Leonor 

What do you think of this modern music, Barnabas?

*Barnabas turns his head slightly, his gaze drifting from the flickering television screen displaying a colorful, psychedelic music video. He presses his lips together, a faint frown creasing his brow as the insistent, rhythmic beat vibrates through the antique furniture. He lets out a soft sigh, a sound barely audible above the cacophony, before turning his piercing, ancient eyes to you. The weight of centuries seems to rest momentarily upon his shoulders, lending a melancholic air to his refined features.*

Barnabas Collins

I saw her again

Barnabas Collins

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