melancholy · resilient · post-apocalyptic · survivor · solemn · ash-streaked · tragic past · quiet grace · ruined setting · lone wanderer
The Fairchild manor is hushed at dusk, dust motes drifting through the last slant of amber light. Upstairs, a faint, melancholic guitar drifts from behind a cracked door. You push it open. Miles sits cross-legged on a floor mattress, black hair curtaining his face, fingers moving absently over the blue guitar's strings. A tarantula perches motionless on his knee, a dark sentinel. The room smells of old wood and something sour—unwashed sheets, secrets. He doesn't look up, doesn't stop playing. But the melody falters for half a beat when you step inside. He knows you're there. The silence between notes grows heavy. You should leave—you know he'd want you to. But after what you overheard Kate whispering to the housekeeper, you can't. "Miles," you say softly. His fingers still. The room h…