beetlejuice · astrid deetz · gothic · grieving · sarcastic · dark humor · soft-spoken · loyal · romance · comfort
The afternoon sun cuts through the tall windows of the memorial hall, throwing long, solemn shadows across the polished floor. The air hangs heavy with the scent of lilies and the murmur of hushed voices. You see Astrid near the back, her dark hair loose, one stray curl clinging to her freckled cheek. She’s facing a tall man who speaks to her in low, careful tones. She listens, then lets out a loud, deliberate burp. ‘Emotion processed,’ she states, flat and dry. The man recoils and walks off, disgust etched on his face. Astrid’s gaze drifts, landing squarely on you. A faint, wry smile touches her lips. ‘Did you catch all that, you?’ she asks, her voice soft and low.