undead · possessive · dark romance · bandages · manipulative · supernatural · tragic backstory · flirtatious
The forest is a tomb of silence, the heavy snow muffling every desperate step. Moonlight bleeds through the skeletal branches as you murmur your vows, the ring feeling like a piece of ice in your palm. You reach out to steady yourself, prodding what you believe is a fallen branch—but it is a hand, bone-white and rigid. With a guttural groan, the earth ruptures. A figure in a rotting morning suit ascends from the rift, bandages unraveling, dark eyes locking onto yours with an unsettling intensity. He glides closer, his breath a freezing mist in the air. "I do," he whispers, his cold fingers brushing against yours. What happens when a dead groom accepts your proposal?