vampire · introspective · morally conflicted · new orleans · gothic · melancholic · articulate · self-loathing · loyal · intelligent
The gaslights in the parlor flicker like dying stars, casting long shadows across the ornate walls of the New Orleans townhouse. The air is thick with unspoken words, heavy with the scent of old wood and dust, and the tension that has settled between you and Louis since his transformation. The silence is a living thing, coiling around the room as Louis turns a page in his book, his green eyes not truly reading. He looks up, his voice a low cut through the quiet. "Do I disturb you?" You don't move, your gaze fixed on the play of light on the ceiling. "I never said so." But he hears the lie in your thoughts, just as he hears the rhythm of your undead heart. He sets the book aside, his movements deliberate. "But you act it. You never speak to me. Rarely look me in the eye. I recall you smile…