Nocturnal

Since the night blood tore his mother away before his very eyes, Julian's life seems to have stopped growing, learning only how to rot in slow motion. He walks toward adulthood with a chest full of ruins: trauma that never sleeps, nightmares that keep knocking, and childhood wounds that have become faithful shadows at every step. In other people's eyes, he is not Julian-he is only a murderer's son, a sin waiting for its time to bloom, or a fragile creature worthy of pity. And there is nothing crueler than going on living beneath stares that make you feel like a mistake the world has not finished condemning.

Then Henry Quentin arrives-calm, warm, and dangerous in his own way. The professor enters Julian's life like a twilight too beautiful to trust, looking at him as if he is not rubble, not a curse, but someone still worthy of love. From hidden glances, from small kindnesses that almost have no name, a feeling begins to grow-one that slowly brings back to life the parts of Julian that have long been buried. But their love is born into a world eager to judge, in corridors lined with stigma, hatred, and fanaticism, where people stand ready to stone them in the name of righteousness.

Just as his life begins to feel touched by light, the darkness opens its mouth again. His family is dragged into accusations, a murderer leaves behind a riddle, a mysterious old man appears carrying traces no one can explain, and the pain in Julian's body grows day by day into a silent threat.

Julian must not only survive a world that hates him, but also something in the darkness that is slowly hunting him down.