The attic felt heavy with silence, as if time itself had stopped. Belle's heart pounded violently in her chest—she had finally spoken his name.
"Thomas…"
The moment the name slipped from her lips, Thomas's form shimmered with strange intensity. His presence grew stronger, the air around them thick with unspoken emotions. His eyes—deep, sorrowful, and piercing—locked on hers as though he had waited centuries just to hear his name spoken with such tenderness.
Belle's voice trembled, but she asked, "Who are you really? Why do you come to me every night, in my dreams… in my thoughts?"
Thomas inhaled, though he was no longer flesh and blood. The motion was habit, a remnant of the life he once lived. His voice cracked with longing.
"Belle… my story is not of life, but of loss. If you are ready, I will show you the past that binds me here."
🌑 Thomas's Past
"I was Thomas Everton, heir to this mansion. But titles and wealth meant nothing to me. I was not a man of riches, but a man who sought warmth, freedom… love.
And then… I met her. She was not from this world of chandeliers and silk, but her smile could outshine every golden hall. Her name was Eliza. Poor, yes. But her heart… pure like spring water.
I loved her as one loves the very breath that keeps them alive. Every stolen glance, every whispered word between us, became my sanctuary.
But my family—drenched in arrogance—refused. They said an Everton's bloodline was too sacred to be mixed with hers. They threatened me, cursed me, told me I was betraying them.
But love is rebellion, Belle. I chose her. I swore I would escape with her, build a life far away from this cursed mansion.
We planned it all. The night, the hour, the place where she'd wait for me. But fate is cruel."
⚡ The Storm of Betrayal
"The night of our escape, the skies split open with thunder. Rain lashed against these very walls. My father discovered our secret and locked me inside this attic.
I fought, Belle. I screamed, I begged. But these walls… they devoured my voice.
Eliza… she waited for me under the willow tree, believing I would come. She believed until her last breath.
When dawn broke, she was gone. Some say she drowned in the river that night, searching for me. Others say she was taken away by those who hated our love. I never knew… because I never escaped.
My body withered within these walls, but my soul… it could not rest. My love, my regret, my longing—they chained me here."
Thomas's voice trembled. His ghostly hand almost reached for Belle's cheek, though it passed through the air like mist.
"But then you came… Belle. Your laughter, your stubbornness, your courage—it awakened me. When I look at you, I see hope again. Not Eliza, not the past… but something new. Something I never thought a cursed soul could feel again."
Belle's eyes filled with tears. She should have run, screamed, prayed. But instead, her heart beat wildly, drawn to him, aching for him. Her lips parted, and the only words that escaped were:
"Thomas… I don't want you to suffer anymore."
And in that fragile moment, the line between the living and the dead blurred, their souls silently reaching for one another in a love that defied centuries.