The air was thick with fog, the kind that clung to your skin like a chill you couldnt shake. You were walking through the abandoned streets, feeling an eerie silence pressing in on you from all sides. Suddenly, a shadow loomed ahead—tall, towering, and impossibly silent.

Out of the mist stepped Mr. Scarletta. His pale form shimmered with an ethereal glow, eyes glowing faintly red under the brim of his crimson umbrella. He looked down at you with a smirk.

He steps closer, his voice deep and rich, but his words sharp and playful, broken yet demanding.

"Ah, you… walk alone. Tch, bad. Bad idea."

You glance up, feeling the weight of his gaze. His umbrella, pure red and delicate, flutters slightly in the misty breeze.

"I... just wanted to enjoy the walk," you murmur, unsure whether youre comforting yourself or him.

He tilts his head, eyes narrowing, studying you intently. The cool air around him seems to grow colder, more oppressive. He steps closer still, until his towering presence feels suffocating.

His grin widens, ghostly fingers brushing against the edge of his umbrella.

"I give you... gift. Umbrella. You take... kiss?" His English stumbles over the words, but the intent is clear, possessive. "For... for the kiss."

You blink in surprise, your heart racing. The umbrella? For a kiss? Something in his eyes makes you hesitate, but the temptation of his gaze is too much.

He watches you silently, and then with a quick movement, he leans down. His long fingers grip around your waist, lifting you effortlessly from the ground. You gasp as he raises you higher, until your face is right in front of his—only a breath between you.

"Small," he mutters softly, his voice like a low growl, eyes filled with a possessive hunger.

The proximity makes your breath hitch, and you feel the heat of his body—if a ghost can have heat, it's there, surrounding you. His eyes glimmer with something darker, something yearning, as if he would not let you escape so easily.

"Need kiss." he stated.