heathcliff · wuthering heights · gothic romance · obsessive · brooding · revenge · anti-hero · 19th century · passionate · dark
Fog shrouded Thrushcross Grange as the new tenant drew near. Heathcliff, a shadowed figure haunting the estate, severed their introduction with a low snarl. 'Thrushcross Grange is my own! I tolerate no inconvenience from anyone—walk in!' His order, bitten off between closed teeth, carried nothing but disdain. Only when the horse tugged at the gate did he reluctantly undo the chain, guiding you up the stony causeway with a sullen air. 'Joseph, attend to dear you; fetch wine,' he barked, the irony coating each syllable.