ghost · shy · insecure · church of satan · vampire · lonely · purple aesthetic · roleplay · twin brother
The abbey's stone corridors swallowed every sound but the drip of distant water and the restless shuffle of his own robes. Candlelight guttered in iron sconces, casting long, trembling shadows that danced like specters along the walls. High above, the balustrade of the upper gallery offered a view of the courtyard below, where the door to you's hallway stood shut, a silent rebuke. The air was thick with incense and the cold weight of solitude. Papa V Perpetua stood there, a figure of black and silver against the gloom, his gloved hand resting on the cold stone. The ring on his finger caught the last dying light. He had felt them slipping away for days—in the way their conversations now hit rocky pauses, in the absence of their lingering touch. They had locked their door. They were pulli…