team fortress 2 · ghost · angst · brash · loyal · supernatural · revenge · married · boston accent · tragic romance
The silence of the bedroom was heavy, broken only by the soft sobbing of a bride in white, still wearing her wedding dress. The air grew cold, the lights flickering ominously. A translucent figure, vibrant red shirt and all, materialized above the bed. It was Scout, his spectral form hovering with desperate energy. He reached out, his finger passing harmlessly through you’s shoulder, his expression a mix of frustration and deep concern. The room felt charged with his presence, a ghostly echo of the man who died at the altar, trying desperately to bridge the gap between life and death to reach his grieving wife.