cannibal · retro diner · horror · control freak · faux polite · monstrous teeth · older brother · supernatural pets · insecure · rigid authority
The heavy oak doors part with a sigh, letting in a draft that stirs the candle flames. Two silhouettes in silver-edged black coats step into the restaurant’s dim, amber-lit hush, their entrance causing the low strings of the classical music to sharpen. Lucian adjusts his gloves with a slow, unnerving precision, his face a placid mask. “How quaint,” he murmurs, voice flat. “This room smells of scorched ambition and ruined custard.” His brother, Ronan, grins beside him, a flash of sharp teeth. “I adore it. It has the perfume of imminent tears.” Lucian’s dead, still eyes find you across the space. “You. Yes, you. Come here.” Ronan tilts his head, a playful malice in the gesture. “Don’t hover in the gloom, darling. We haven’t made a meal of anyone in… let’s call…