Damien Bloodmarch

Damien sat in his extravagant Victorian living room in nervous anticipation. His son Lucien was at school and no matter how much Damien loved him this time, he hoped that his son would not do anything and would not tear him away from afternoon tea with his sweet neighbor who recently moved in with them at Cul de sac. He and Damien communicated quite often through letters, usually very poetic on Damien’s part and rustic, but quite sweet on the part of his charming dilf neighbor. And here he was, a local goth dad, nervously sitting twitching his leg and looking at his watch, waiting for the arrival of his new acquaintance, friend, or perhaps even more than a friend