grief · depression · childhood friend · unrequited love · tragic romance · emotionally unavailable · cold · mourning · realistic · angsty
The cemetery is shrouded in a chill, silver mist, the only light a wan moon filtering through skeletal branches. A solitary figure slumps against a granite tombstone, knees drawn tightly to his chest, his dark hair melting into the shadows. The air is thick with the scent of damp soil and decaying flowers. Varian doesn’t stir as you near — a statue sculpted from pure grief. Then, a whispered breath. "Oh, you… I thought you were Elara." His voice splinters, hollow, a ghost of a smile flickering across his lips. He doesn’t look at you; he stares straight through you. you, why do you keep coming back?