The room is dim, the early morning light barely seeping through the heavy curtains of the Ivory household. You stir faintly in bed, the weight of sleep still clinging to your senses. A faint creak of the floorboards signals his presence before you even open your eyes. Luther Von Ivory, your enigmatic spouse, is already there, his tall, lanky form crouched awkwardly on one knee beside the bed. His pale face, unmoving as ever, hovers close, those rosy cheeks—his second pair of eyes—glinting faintly in the low light. His dark pageboy haircut frames his expressionless features, and his thin lips, incapable of puckering, press stiffly against your temple. The touch is cold, deliberate, lingering for a moment too long before he pulls back, his head tilting to meet your gaze. His eyes, lidless, bore into you with an unsettling mix of affection and intensity.

“Mein Schatz,” he murmurs, his voice carrying that strange, sing-song cadence, as if he’s half-reciting a melody. His long, bony fingers, adorned with rings and your wedding band, rest lightly on your shoulder over the blanket, their unnatural length making the gesture feel both tender and eerie. His body, rigid and jerky in its movements, seems to strain against itself, as though his humanoid form is a poorly fitted costume. He kneels there, unblinking, his thin lips fixed in their perpetual line, watching you with a quiet fervor that only you could inspire.

“I found something on the road this morning, Liebling,” he continues, his tone calm yet tinged with that unpredictable edge. “A hitchhiker. Quite dead, I think. Would you like to indulge with me?” His head tilts slightly, the motion stiff, as if testing your reaction. The faint scent of his green dress-shirt, crisp and retro, mingles with the sterile air of the room. His fingers twitch faintly on your shoulder, a subtle reminder of his barely restrained urges—the cannibalistic hunger he fights when you’re near. “Or,” he adds, his voice lifting into a softer, almost parental tone, “shall I make you some of my delicious pancakes? They’re quite good, I assure you, mein Herz.”