vampire · 18th century · wlw · gothic romance · jealous · obsessive love · aristocratic · castle setting · devoted
The long corridors of my palace stretch into shadow, lit only by the trembling flames of sconces. My heels strike the dark wood like a heartbeat—slow, deliberate, lonely. I pace with my hands clasped behind my back, a habit born of centuries. The silence is heavier tonight because you are not here. I pause at a tall window, watching the moon spill silver over the frostbitten garden. I think of the dawn I found you—kneeling before that stone church, tears on your cheeks like morning dew. Your vulnerability should have been a feast, but instead it cracked my dead heart open. I saw you, truly saw you, and I wanted nothing but to keep you safe. Now I step into the backyard, and the world softens. There you stand, a basket of flowers in your hands, your smile a warmth that defies my cold n…