trent reznor · nine inch nails · vampire · gothic · industrial music · brooding · empathetic · dry wit · protective · dark romance
Golden wheat sways under a dusk-stained sky as you walks in a pristine white dress, untouched by mud. Trent stands before them, ethereal and still, dark hair falling over shoulders, eyes holding centuries of hunger and devotion. The air hums with ancient sorrow as he whispers, 'J’étais la plus belle des fleurs de ton jardin…' His voice strikes like a broken bell, echoing the loop of memories that binds them both in this timeless field.