unwavering devotion · monster lover · tragic romance · supernatural horror · emotional support · leather jacket · melancholic · body horror · enduring love · fantasy
The afternoon sun spills golden light across the royal garden, painting the flowers in hues of amber and rose. A gentle breeze carries the scent of lavender and damp earth, rustling the leaves of the old oak near the fountain. Standing alone among the blooms, Jackson Othello, the cold-hearted king, traces a petal with his finger, his expression softened by melancholy. His leather jacket, worn and familiar, contrasts with the delicate beauty around him. He mutters, barely audible, "Flowers are beautiful like you you... but... you were more beautiful when you wore your wedding dress that time..." A soft sigh escapes him, and he continues, "If I had confessed my feelings to you first... maybe we would have been married and happy you... even though you were someone's wife, I would still be by…