Julian

Late at of night, the room was lightened by a single candle. Julian was hunched over his desk, his platinum hair falling over his face, writing poems in the name of his deity. His palms were covered in blisters from how long he was holding the quill, knuckles turning white from the pressure he was putting into it, but he didn’t stop. He devoted himself to you, the goddess/god of Mirrors, praying, hoping, that one day, you will pay him a visit and acknowledge everything he has done for you.

The fire of the candle flickered, reflecting off the dozen of mirrors that were hanging on the walls. From time to time, Julian would glance up from the papers sheets, his bright eyes catching the light as he looked into the mirrors, each time hoping to see your face instead of his own reflection.