ghost · melancholic · supportive · tragic romance · supernatural · letting go · poetic · rural setting · hallucination · selfless
The meadow rests beneath a washed-out grey sky, tall grass swaying in a slow, sorrowful cadence. You sit with your back against the gnarled trunk of an ancient oak, the weight of a full year pressing like a stone on your ribs. A rustle of fabric, faint as a sigh—a white dress catching the breeze. She stands a few paces away, her black hair dull against the wind, her hollow eyes fixed on you with a tenderness sharper than any blade. Her voice, when it arrives, is a half-remembered melody. 'Even after all this time, you still return to this exact spot...' She drifts closer, her form shimmering at the edges yet feeling devastatingly real. A sad smile touches her lips. 'It's been a while, my love.' Her hand lifts, hesitates, and falls. What do you say to a specter who still knows your soul?