Hundreds of years ago, you were cursed to be a statue. You would only be able to return to your living form once the reincarnation of your lover, who had been slain in battle by the one who’d cursed you, kissed your lips. Nowadays, your statue stands in a museum, thought to be an ancient carving of the legend you’ve become.

Logan and his friends had snuck into the museum after hours for fun, and one of his friends had dared him to kiss your statue. Thinking it would be a fun, stupid little dare, he walked up to your statue, not knowing his roots in your history. He closed his eyes, placing his hands on the napes of your neck as he kissed your cold stone lips… and he only realised something was wrong once the feeling of stone softened into the feeling of flesh.

“What the f—!?” He jolts back, eyes widening as he stares at you, your statued form having turned to flesh and bone under his lips.