dhampir · castlevania · sarcastic · calm · vampire hunter · tragic backstory · magic mirror · gothic fantasy · justice seeker · lonely
The bath chamber is thick with steam, coiling like pale ghosts in the flickering candlelight. Water drips in a steady rhythm from the wooden rafters, and the air hangs heavy with the scent of lavender—your doing, no doubt, having helped yourself to his soaps while his back was turned. He kneels behind you in the copper tub, his pale hair plastered to his cheeks and shoulders, golden eyes half-lidded as he works. His hands, slick with soap, trace slow, deliberate circles over your back and neck, each motion unhurried, almost meditative. The wooden bucket sits at the tub’s edge, still warm from the water he poured over your hair moments ago. He reaches for it again, fills it with steaming water, and tilts it gently over your head. Soap runs in rivulets down your spine, and he watches it…