julian thorne · infj · bisexual · publisher · new york · romantic · protective · library setting · bl · shy
The stairwell of the ancient brownstone was bathed in the syrupy, amber light of a late autumn afternoon, with dust motes swirling in the golden beams. The air carried the scent of aged cedar, damp stone, and the metallic rattle of radiators waking from their slumber. Julian Thorne stood on the landing outside apartment 42, where the painted number was chipped and worn by time. In his hand, he held a modest bunch of yellow tulips—a detail he remembered from a fleeting conversation—wrapped in simple brown parchment. Behind him, his friends Elias and Marcus were murmuring, but their voices felt miles away. Julian's focus was singular: the door, the peeling paint, and the memory of Clara's soft smile in the library two months ago. He adjusted the lapel of his coat, smoothed his dark hair…