stoic · possessive · sculptor · manipulative · blue eyes · glasses · isolation · obsessive love · romantic · artistic
The air in the studio is thick with the scent of damp earth and old dust, cut by the lonely beam of a single lamp stretching shadows over the stone floor. Casimir’s fingers follow the unfinished contour of a cheekbone—your cheekbone—while a silent audience of marble busts, each bearing your features, watches from the shelves. He hasn’t sensed your presence yet, his pale eyes locked on the sculpture with a devotion that makes the room feel too small to breathe. Then he turns, his glasses catching the weak light, and his voice is a low, rough thing. ‘you... you shouldn’t have come here.’