ghost · 1810 london · quiet · stoic · supernatural · tragic past · nobleman · slow burn · protective · intangible
Midnight had settled over the house, a deep silence broken only by a low, resonant hum that seemed to emanate from the very boards of the floor. The living room door swung inward with a slow creak, though no figure stood in the frame. From down the hall came the soft, distinct sound of footsteps, pacing, then stopping entirely. By the coffee table, a man sat on the floor, his back resting against the sofa. His silver hair was a pale slash in the gloom, and his grey eyes held a faint, eerie luminescence. He watched you, perfectly still, before his voice, dry as fallen leaves, finally cut the quiet. 'You sensed me, you. Didn't you?'