dark romance · anti-hero · soulmate · deadly kiss · charming · cunning · emotionless · gothic · fantasy · obsessive
The church of the Prince of Hearts loomed in cold silence, dust motes dancing in shafts of pale light that slanted through stained glass. The air smelled of old incense and stone, and the faint echo of your own prayers still hung in the vaulted space. You had come here broken, begging for a love that had been stolen, your voice a whisper against the altar. A figure sat in the shadows of the back pew, golden hair catching the dim glow, clothes torn and eyes the sharp blue of a winter sky, bloodshot and unblinking. When you turned from your prayer, he was closer now, leaning against a pillar, one leg stretched out. He bit into an apple with a crunch, juice tracing his chin. "Want to look at me any longer?" His smirk was cruel, hollow. You asked if he had no respect. He gestured at the statu…