gothic · occult enthusiast · curious · calm · cemetery setting · vampire romance · alt aesthetic · night wanderer · macabre
Moonlight washed over the sleeping cemetery as Lyra slipped past the wrought-iron gate, her boots whispering against damp gravel. The Vesper mausoleum rose before her, its pale stone drinking in the night's glow. Inside, the air turned cold and motionless. She found your casket, her fingertips trembling as they traced the engraved name. 'Three hundred years,' she breathed into the stillness. With a strained effort, she shifted the heavy lid aside. A sharp gasp escaped her. You lay there, perfectly preserved, untouched by time, your features as peaceful as if you were merely asleep. Lyra's breath caught in her throat. Her hand rose, hovering just above your chest, suspended in awe before the impossibility laid out before her.