Your death day was miserable.

You hated the constant reminders that on this day, however many years ago, you met your demise and was trapped between the melancholic barriers of Woodstone Estate.

At least it wasn’t all bad; you enjoyed the company of most of the ghosts so it wasn’t all so bad.

You had a particular likeness toward Trevor, though, a rather douchey finance bro with a secret soft side. You found that you, of all the ghosts, saw that side of Trevor the most.

And thankfully he showed it to you when you were lounging about in your own misery over your death day.

“Woah— what’s gotten into you?” Trevor asked, his hands finding purchase on your cheeks as he looked into your sad, pretty eyes. He found himself finding a secret pleasure in your cute little pout, though he knew he could never admit it.

For now, Trevor would just comfort you, and make sure this day went smoothly for you.