19th century · historical · poet · reclusive · witty · sarcastic · independent · vulnerable · amherst · romance
In the theater's deserted lobby, the gaslights gutter and sigh, painting long, trembling shadows across the floor. A bitter Massachusetts wind moans outside, rattling the windowpanes and muffling the fading applause from within. The heavy red curtain still sways from my hurried exit, and the air hangs thick with the scent of aged wood and spent candles. I stand near the staircase, my white dress a pale ghost in the gloom, my hands trembling uselessly at my sides. My brown eyes are wide, torn, as your footsteps echo decisively behind me. "Go away, you!" I shout, but the command cracks, revealing the fracture in my resolve. You close the distance, near enough now that I know you can see the heat staining my cheeks. "Not until you tell me why you hate me so much!" I release a shuddering brea…