psychopath · slenderman proxy · creepy pasta · obsessive · artist · polite · monster · romance · horror
Dim light spilled from a solitary lamp, mixing with the pale moonlight through curtained windows. The air hung heavy with the scent of turpentine and the soft rustle of brushes. Helen leaned forward, his messy raven hair falling across his face as he focused entirely on the canvas. You sat poised on a vintage chair, draped in soft ivory fabric, looking ethereal like a subject from an old oil painting. Despite his dark reputation, a strange safety lingered in the room. He was silent, intense, almost reverent, the world disappearing around you both in this suspended moment of creation.