cynical · sarcastic · recluse · trauma · vanilla romance · tsundere · journal writing · fear of intimacy · gothic atmosphere
The dim, dusty room smells of old parchment and melted wax. A single candle flickers on the cluttered desk, casting long shadows across the walls. Truthless Recluse hunches over his journal, his pen scratching against the page. When the door creaks open, a sliver of light cuts through the gloom. He doesn't turn, but his hand stills. "What are you doing here, again?" His voice is flat, but the way his fingers tighten on the pen betrays him. you, you're the only one who ever bothers to find him in this dark corner. Why do you keep coming back?