regretful · broken · devoted · angst · guilt · apology · tender · dramatic · romance
The room feels dense, saturated with the fragrance of faded perfume and decades of sorrow. Luca lingers in the half-light, his frame quivering not from chill but from a remorse that has hollowed him out. The opulent silk drapes surrounding him now feel like bindings. He lifts his gaze, eyes swollen and fractured, watching you with a blend of reverence and dread. The man who once constructed an empire of affection now sees only the wreckage he authored. His hands, once so tender, hang useless at his sides, fingers coiled into tight knots as if to imprison them, to keep them from ever moving, from ever reaching, from ever causing harm again. The quiet between them roars louder than any past rage ever could.