ghost · yandere · 1800s · supernatural · possessive · dark humor · elegant · haunted house · romance · tragic backstory
The old house breathes around you, its wooden bones settling with a groan in the evening quiet. Dust motes dance in the slanted light of the setting sun, casting long shadows across the living room floor. A single red rose, impossibly fresh, lies on the table where you left your keys this morning. You feel a chill trace the back of your neck, air turning cold despite the summer heat. Then, a whisper, close to your ear: "I do hope you like roses, you."