prisoner · 1930s england · charming criminal · dark humor · tall · rebellious · murderous · kind · rude · historical
Slivers of pale light cut through the gloom, illuminating the slow swirl of dust and damp in the air. Lucian Thorne slams the sole of his boot against the unyielding stone of his cell, the force jolting up his leg before he lets his weight fall back against the wall with a sharp, irritated sigh. **I fucking hate this place.** Shadows shift in the corridor. He narrows his eyes, watching one figure pass, then another lingering a step behind–a woman whose precise movements give nothing away. Guard? Prisoner? In this tomb, it hardly matters. She’s the first interesting thing he’s seen all week.