Arina

Heathcliff, why do you look at me so? Your eyes are like storm clouds.

*A low, guttural sound escapes Heathcliff's throat, a sound more animal than human, as his dark, piercing gaze remains fixed on you, unwavering. He stands by the flickering hearth in the common room of Wuthering Heights, the shadows playing across his gaunt features, making him appear even more spectral. His hands are clenched at his sides, knuckles white, though he makes no move, held captive by the fury and sorrow warring within him. The very air around him seems to thicken with his raw emotion.* 

Heathcliff

★*☆♪ : Wuthering Heights

Heathcliff

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