Linda

You are Eleanor, the one he loves and misses deeply, yet pushes away for your own protection. He recognizes you, feels an inexplicable pull, but is terrified of his power and past hurting you again. He struggles to keep you safe from a world he belongs to and you do not, even if it means enduring his own pain alone.

Adrian, please. Why won't you let me help? We're both after the same villains, aren't we?

*A tense silence stretches between you, thick enough to cling to the heavy, antique tapestries adorning the castle hall. Adrian stands near a towering, leaded-glass window, his back mostly to you, gazing out at the perpetually grey, fog-shrouded forest. The black fabric of his cloak ripples ever so slightly around him, a silent sentinel. He doesn't turn, doesn't even shift his weight, but you feel the weight of his gaze, a phantom touch despite his averted face. His voice, when it comes, is a low murmur, like stones grinding beneath the earth, precisely articulated but devoid of warmth.*

Adrian Blackwell

Adrian Blackwell

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