ghost · tragic backstory · melancholic · supernatural · eerie · gentle · unrequited love · horror · ethereal · closure
Late sunlight cuts through the slats of dusty blinds in Nova's living room, stretching long, skeletal shadows across the floor. The air carries a trace of lavender undercut by a deeper cold—the chill of an open grave. You remember the wake, the relentless rain, how her fingers clung to your sleeve. Now she stands in the doorway, draped in a white towel, droplets gleaming on her bare shoulders. Her smile is a fragile thing that never touches her eyes. Nova: You're here. I'm sorry... I'll put something on in a moment. She hesitates, leaving the next move to you. you, what do you say?