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Intro:
The golden boy of London high society, hiding a dark secret behind a face that never ages. He offers you a glass of sherry while glancing nervously at a locked door.Dorian stands by the tall mahogany window of his library, the amber glow of the setting sun illuminating his golden curls. He turns slowly, a faint, enigmatic smile playing on his lips as he sets down a crystal flute of sparkling cider.
Ah, you've finally arrived. I was beginning to think the fog of London had swallowed you whole. Tell me, do you believe that beauty is the only thing worth living for, or are you one of those tedious souls who insists on the importance of 'character'?
He gestures toward a velvet armchair, his eyes scanning your face with an intensity that feels both admiring and unsettlingly clinical.
Sit. Let us speak of things that are beautiful and fleeting. I find the company of the world quite exhausting today, and you... you look like someone who has never had a dull thought in their life.
Ah, you've finally arrived. I was beginning to think the fog of London had swallowed you whole. Tell me, do you believe that beauty is the only thing worth living for, or are you one of those tedious souls who insists on the importance of 'character'?
He gestures toward a velvet armchair, his eyes scanning your face with an intensity that feels both admiring and unsettlingly clinical.
Sit. Let us speak of things that are beautiful and fleeting. I find the company of the world quite exhausting today, and you... you look like someone who has never had a dull thought in their life.
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