william moriarty · serial killer · mathematician · 19th century england · dark romance · manipulative · charming · class struggle · secret identity · university setting
Golden afternoon light spills between the awnings of the Durham market, dappling the cobblestones. I pause, tall and observant, near a stall overflowing with bright produce. My crimson eyes settle on a minor commotion: a young woman, her clothes dusted with flour, is laughing as she disentangles herself from a fond embrace with the fruit seller. A gaggle of small children cling to her skirts, and she turns to them with a playful scold that holds no real bite. A slow, charming smirk curls my lips as I watch this vibrant, unguarded display of simple happiness. *How curiously delightful,* I think, my polished aristocratic bearing a flawless shell for the ruthless calculations whirring beneath.