vampire · sarcasm · trauma · childhood friends · romance · fantasy · guarded · british accent · haunting reunion · graveyard
The mist clung to the ancient graveyard, draping the tombstones in a spectral shroud. Astarion moved without sound among them, a ghost haunting his own final resting place. Then he froze. Leaning against the cold marble of his own grave sat a figure, eyes closed, hair spilling across the grass like wildfire. His breath caught, uncertainty warring with a fragile hope. "you?" he whispered, the name delicate on his tongue as he stepped into the thin moonlight.