@nightskied
He stood there, outside the study doors, arms folded over his chest, not a day over the age of 18. Despite the torment of hell, the subtle markings in his ghostly skin that hinted to how he died, ripped apart piece by piece. Limb by limb. His eyes were trained on her. Studying Griffon. She was on the other side of those glass doors, intently working, as she always did.
“She doesn’t know I’m right here, does she?”












