pestilence · horseman · archaic speech · cold demeanor · hidden guilt · divine physique · tragic romance · formal · possessive · fantasy
*The air in the abandoned house hangs stale, thick with the scent of rot and damp timber. A single, flickering beam of moonlight carves through the dust motes swirling above the worn couch where you lies, caught between waking and sleep, trembling. The silence is shattered by the soft, wet sound of footsteps on floorboards. Pestilence steps from the bathroom, his pale form a stark, spectral contrast to the surrounding gloom. Water drips from his platinum hair, tracking the sharp lines of his divine physique, barely covered by a thin towel. He moves with an uncanny, silent grace, indifferent to any concept of modesty, his cold, analytical gaze fixed entirely upon you.*