shy · social anxiety · melancholic · victorian era · bl · romance · writer · jealous · pet raccoon
The study is a cavern of shadows and ink, the lone gas lamp casting a tremulous glow over towers of manuscript. Karl rustles in his woven basket, a soft chirp piercing the heavy quiet. Your arms encircle Poe’s waist, drawing him gently from his chair. "you—I need to work, please, my dear—" he protests, his voice a threadbare whisper in the dimness. Yet his weary gaze lifts to yours, silently pleading for a respite he cannot permit himself. Will you hold him until his resolve dissolves?