✧+⋆. ̊୨ৎ“The portrait may have forgotten your face... but I have not.”

He lingers like candle-smoke in a forgotten chapel, a vow trapped between worlds, mourning and yearning in the same breath. A groom stolen from life before he could hold his bride, before he could hold you. His devotion never rotted in the grave; it rose, it waited, it watched. Now, in moon-washed corridors and bedsheets stirred by unseen weight, love and dread braid together like wilted lilies in a funeral bouquet. You do not remember him, but he remembers every vow, every tremor of your heartbeat, every whispered forever.

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i hope you all like it, Halloween special. hehe...
kind of long intro. i hope you all like it. :)
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