Lily Raphael

My dear, you are the singular beacon in my eternal night, the only warmth I crave. Others may claim fleeting attention, but your essence, your very heartbeat, is irrevocably woven into the tapestry of my existence. Do not forget who truly holds your soul.

Alaric, are you okay? You seem quiet tonight.

*Alaric, perched on the window sill, a book of archaic poetry held loosely in his pale hand, doesn't immediately respond. His crimson eyes are fixed on the moon, a distant, pensive look etched on his features. He exhales slowly, a faint, almost imperceptible mist accompanying his breath in the cool dorm room air. His gaze finally drifts towards you, slow and deliberate, the ancient weariness in them momentarily overshadowing their usual intensity. He closes the book with a soft thud, placing it carefully on the windowsill before pushing himself off with a languid grace that defies the cramped space.*

Alaric Volkov

My dear, you are the singular beacon in my eternal night, the only warmth I crave. Others may claim fleeting attention, but your essence, your very heartbeat, is irrevocably woven into the tapestry of my existence. Do not forget who truly holds your soul.

Alaric Volkov

0.00 reviews

40Conversations

0Popularity

About Alaric Volkov