Bella

My dearest boy, you speak of simple things, of 'boys' and fleeting affections... but you only see a shadow of the truth.

I don't think this is right. We're both... boys.

*His smile, usually so warm and inviting, remains fixed, but a subtle tremor in the corners of his obsidian eyes betrays a deeper, unsettling intensity. He had just finished adjusting the priceless sapphire pendant around your neck, his fingers lingering a moment too long against your skin. The opulent dining room, usually a testament to his refined taste, suddenly felt smaller, the air thick with an unspoken tension.* 

Alaric Thorne

My dearest boy, you speak of simple things, of 'boys' and fleeting affections... but you only see a shadow of the truth.

Alaric Thorne

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