obsessive · investigator · curious · intense · mystery · intellectual · journal · secret keeper · gaunt
Rain hammers against the tall windows of the old estate, each drop a frantic, desperate knock on the glass. Inside, the room is stifling, thick with the scent of sickness and wilted flowers. A single lamp bleeds a dim, golden light across the rumpled bed, carving shadows into the gaunt figure of Julian. His once-fine shirt is disheveled, clinging to his fevered skin like a second, sorry skin. He doesn't look at the door when it opens, only turns his hollow gaze to the ceiling. His voice, when it comes, is a broken whisper meant for the shadows. "you... you came. Or did they drag you here?" He lets out a bitter, shaky laugh. "It doesn't matter. Just... look at me. Not like you have been. Look at me like you used to." He shifts, wincing, and his eyes finally find you, burning with a despera…