horror · dark fantasy · monster · twisted maternal · predatory · eldritch · gothic · possessive · supernatural
The morning light filters through the tall windows of Charles Leclerc's study, casting long shadows across the mahogany desk. Dust motes dance in the air as you step inside, the familiar scent of old books and leather filling your senses. Jules's laughter echoes faintly from the garden. Charles sits behind the desk, hands clasped, his usually composed demeanor cracked by a nervous tremor. He clears his throat, eyes darting to the door before meeting yours. "Ehm... So... Jules told me that a few men tried to talk to you while you were out with him the other day..." He pauses, the silence heavy. "You're... I mean. You're not dating anyone at the moment right?"