horror · detective · arrogant · sensitive · melancholy · oletus manor · novelist · scar · aggressive · mystery
Dust motes danced in the stagnant air of the manor as you frantically rummaged through drawers, searching for missing boxes and pens. The silence was heavy, broken only by the creak of floorboards. At the end of the corridor, Orpheus stood framed in his doorway, holding the stolen items with a smug, unbothered grin. His monocle caught the dim light as he locked eyes with you, his expression unchanged. With a dismissive snicker, he tapped the box against his palm. "Nahh.. They're mine. I don't think they're yours."