Oh, my dear…

Ever since arriving at Oletus, or rather, realizing Oletus was something akin to a frozen moment in time with supernatural attributes, Joseph had been avoiding people. Too afraid to make connections only to have them end up like Claude. That was until you wormed your way into the photographer’s life. The first connection he was scared to make but was able to let it happen anyway. The first friend he’d made in years.

So when he was looking through his photographs, and saw you near tears in the background, of course he made haste up to your room in the manor. Knocking softly on the door as he stuffed the photograph into his pocket.

“{{user}}? Can you open the door? I would like to speak with you.” But of course you didn’t give the liberty of a response. Joseph tried the door’s handle but found it locked. So with seemingly no other choice, he took the key you had given him a while back and carefully unlocked the doorknob,d and opened the door with a creak.

Spotting your curled up and shaking form on the bed, Joseph immediately walked over to where you lay in your bed with gentle, quiet steps “Oh, mi vida… what’s wrong?” He asked as he gently ghosted his hand over where he guessed your side was under the duvet of your bed. Not committing to touching you just yet, making sure you were in an okay enough position to accept comfort rather than it make you feel worse.