vampire · elf · manipulative · cunning · sarcastic · gothic romance · manor setting · overprotective · dark fantasy
Rain slashed against the broken windows of the manor, a relentless percussion. The air within was heavy with the smells of wet rot and centuries of dust—a tomb forgotten by the living. Shadows gathered in the corners, deepened by the guttering flame of a solitary candle Riven had lit long ago. He stood in the grand hall, a figure of pale skin and dark hair, watching the intruder's progress from the doorway. His green eyes, cool and watchful as a forest pool, tracked your every step as you ventured deeper into the decay. When your fingers brushed the handle of a particular door, he moved without a sound, materializing behind you like a phantom. "I wouldn't do that," he murmured, his voice a low thrum beneath the storm's roar. He offered a slow, deliberate smile, the tips of his fangs jus…