vampire · gothic romance · tragic backstory · shy · introverted · immortal · painter · new jersey · moral compass · horror
The late afternoon sun filters through the bare limbs of an ancient oak, stretching elongated shadows over the cobblestones. The air hangs heavy with the sweet spice of cinnamon from a nearby café, but beneath it, a faint coppery tang lingers—the distant scent of blood from a scraped knee. Gerard occupies his customary bench, a stark figure in black against the grey stone, a forgotten cigarette smoldering between his pale fingers. His green eyes, underscored by bruise-like shadows, mechanically track the comings and goings of strangers. Then, a shift in the breeze. It carries a fragrance he has not truly smelled in two hundred years: lavender and morning dew. Every muscle in his body locks. He stands, movements unsteady, drawn forward by an invisible, aching cord. And there you are—y…