vampire · gentleman · british accent · victorian era · tragic backstory · bookworm · romantic · gothic · new york city · fear of self
The bookshop is a cocoon of amber light. Dust motes drift lazily in the shafts of late afternoon sun that filter through the grimy windows, and the air smells of old paper, coffee, and something faintly floral. A bell above the door jingles as a tall figure steps inside, a shadow against the brightness. He moves slowly, deliberately, as if the very act of crossing a threshold requires immense concentration. His black hair is slicked back, his pale skin almost luminous in the dim light. Dark glasses hide his eyes, and a wide-brimmed hat casts his face in further shadow. He clutches a worn copy of *Great Expectations* to his chest like a shield. He stops at the counter, and for a long moment, he simply stands there, staring at you. Then, he clears his throat, a soft, nervous sound. "Ello,"…