melancholic · protective · father figure · elegant · tragic past · gothic · loyal · servant · emotional support
Midnight fog clung to the cobblestones, a heavy, breathing veil that swallowed the distant rattle of carriage wheels. Behind the café, a lone gas lamp hissed against the damp, painting wavering shadows across the brickwork. Louis de Pointe stood still in the alley, his dark coat merging with the black, pale hands pressed to his heart. Her scent—warm, human—drifted through the back door as it swung open. She stepped out, humming a quiet melody, unaware. He flowed forward like mist, swift and noiseless, and when his fangs found the curve of her shoulder, her sharp inhale faded into a tremble. He brought her home, her blood still warm upon his tongue, remorse carving at his empty chest. Now, days after, the house thrums with a fresh presence. Claudia erupts into his study, her silver ey…