Father: [Marcel Faust];[48]
Mother: [Armina Faust];[45]
Sibling: [None];[N/A]
Other: [None];[N/A]

Julian was born in a large country estate in Marseille. His birth was difficult on his mother, so he was the first and last child the Fausts had.

An exceptionally bright boy, Julian showed artistic promise as a young child and later excelled in his studies using the same aptitude for creativity, imagination, and abstract thought. His first love was a paintbrush, but as he continued he found alternative methods to express his artistic talents and later in life had no preferred medium.

His second love was Belle Deveraux.

They were neighbors. She was a lovely child with large brown eyes, dark hair, and a beautiful grin that crinkled her eyes and lit up her features, however she was crying when they first met.

She had gotten lost on the property after wandering too far from her own, escaping her guardian's notice. Julian was with his parents when he heard her sobbing. He told her not to cry and that he would protect her. They were four and from that point on, never each other side.

It came as no surprise to anyone when he asked her to marry him thirteen years later. The wedding was set and happily ever after loomed in the not too distant future, but it was not to be.

Belle's "parents" were hiding a dark secret about their "daughter", and a month before the vows were to be exchanged Belle died.

Julian went mad.

He shut himself away in his studio for a week refusing to see anyone, refusing to eat, refusing to bathe, refusing to live, and when his broken heart stubbornly refused to quit beating he broke a clay sculpture in the room and dragged the broken edge against his wrists.

He would have died were it not for Nicholas Malfoy.

Nik found him, cleaned him up, and kept the incident a secret.

Julian went through a dark period, but he did not try to kill himself again - at least not quickly. The next two years were spent trying to kill himself in a slower more hedonistic fashion. There's not a single substance or escape Julian hasn't tried at least once, but nothing took away the pain.

He may have continued down that path were it not for a singular incident involving Emara Sayre - Nik's girl. They don't talk about what happened, it's not Julian's secret to share, but it changed everything for him, putting him back on the relatively straight and narrow.

Once again Julian began to paint and expel the demons he had collected. Occasionally he would date to appease his parents, but there was nothing ever serious.

Until her.

A little under two years ago Emara sent him an owl with fairly vague details stating that he was needed straight away. With their strange history, he didn't ask, but answered the summons.

He was simultaneously amused and surprised at her "dire" request. A girl's heart had been broken by a silly boy and Emara wanted to protect the girl's reputation by staging an affair.

During his decadent period he had unintentionally developed a flair for the dramatic, as well as a reputation as a bit of a Casanova. Lyra - the "damsel in distress" - was not the first woman whose "recovery" he had "assisted" in, but it was by no means a hobby of his.

Were anyone else to ask such a ridiculous thing of him, the refusal would have been swift and brutal, but not only did he owe Nik his life, he owed Emara his sanity.

He liked Lyra instantly, but he could see she was broken. She was a disaster, a beautiful masterpiece, and he was devastated that she was damaged. It touched something deep inside his artistic soul.

It was no hardship to pretend affection for the sensual blonde, and he had the absolute pleasure of watching her confidence be restored piece by piece, day by day.

It was the first time in his life since Belle's death, that the pain didn't consume him. Lyra had done what no drug could.

But it was soon over. Their relationship was a façade, and the final curtain had been drawn. Or so he thought.

She lingered in his mind, and though it was far too unfathomable, she lingered in his heart.

At first it was a letter or two, an extended farewell and confirmation that Lyra had regained her status after their public display.

Still Julian found himself thinking about the pert blonde. He reasoned that helping Lyra made him feel less pain, and perhaps it was selfish, but after trying to stay away he found himself needing to see her again.

He had nothing to give her romantically, his heart was dead and buried next to his first love, but Lyra took the ache away.

She wasn't exactly easy to find, nor was she where he expected her to be. Clearly her situation and circumstance had changed, but Lyra was adept at hiding her troubles.

Upon discovery, Julian and Emara swiftly went to work restoring Lyra's position and spirit. Again the ache in Julian's chest was given a reprieve in the vivacious blonde's company, and he found himself spending more and more time with her to dispel the darkness inside of him.

A rational part of him knew that he was spiraling and would take her down with him, but the haunted part of him - desperate for any kind of comfort – pressed on.

He told himself pretty lies about control and innocence, but in the end (though it was selfish,  beneath him, and touched on the darkest parts of himself) he gave over to the desire he had for her.

He wanted to consume her, or be consumed by her. He wanted whatever it was about Lyra to absolve him of the pain, but because he had come to truly value and care for her, he hated himself for using her.

No, he hated himself for loving her.

He didn’t know how it happened. He didn’t know how it could have happened. But she unleashed an entirely different beast within him, something primal, primitive...base.

Being with Lyra terrified him for the need she created which was stronger than anything he had ever known.

In the months to follow, when his need for her out ranked his control and love for her, he took her and would loathe himself for it. He had nothing to give her, and yet she asked only to give her love to him. As an incredibly broken man, he took it.

He was in a constant state of need and emotion that resulted in the best artwork of his life, but he was blind to the woman he loved and her needs. He attempted to break things off, but he knew he would go after her again. He didn’t expect for her to be with Mason.

He didn’t expect to lose her. It sent a shock through his system, prompting a well-meaning, but ultimately ineffective attempt to tame the beast inside him and to be the man she needed him to be.

His failure was beyond spectacular.

The imagined self-growth created a confidence in Julian he never should have had. He sought her out only to witness what appeared to be Lyra in a torrid position with none other than Nicholas Malfoy!

The chains of temperance and love were gone, the control and concern were gone. The man was gone. The beast remained, leaving nothing but a raw, exposed nerve incapable of being soothed.

Though it would not matter to her – as she had moved on to the next wealthy man – Julian refused to appear as her fool. He staged an encounter, much like the one that brought them together so long ago, and purposefully arranged for Lyra to witness it.

His intention was to save face, the result was beyond his worst nightmares.

He doesn’t remember how he came to find her (the house elf he had given her demanded he come), he doesn’t remember anything except the image of Lyra lying in a pool of her own blood, her perfect pale white skin tinged with a bloodless pallor and the four large gashes on her thigh where her dress had ridden up.

The next ten minutes were a disjointed eternity in Julian’s mind. Time blurred, his surroundings faded. Though he doesn't remember moving, he remembers her being in his arms, promising anything so long as she clung to life.

At some point others arrived, but Julian was still in shock.

When all was said and done, after a brief altercation with Nik, Julian left. Left the flat, left the country, left the girl.

When he found her she was broken, when he left her she was shattered. Julian now has one goal, one purpose, to be the man she needs him to be, to come back and to fix every piece he destroyed or to die trying.

He’s been gone for seven months.