#((when it comes to the upcoming wedding that they're a *bit* more lenient than they normally might be))

[theheadlessgroom]

https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/722617115162673152/theheadlessgroom-beatingheart-bride

@beatingheart-bride

“The nightmares, th-the dreamscapes about being a-a ghost and yet, not being in heaven (at least, I don’t think it’s heaven...) and instead staying here in Gracey Manor!” he cried out, louder than he’d intended, only for him to pause and listen, making sure no one was around to hear them. Once he was certain of it, he got to his feet and began to pace the parlor floor, previously tired mind now wired, running at top speed as he explained:

“I’ve been having these nightmares,” he began brow furrowed. “Most of them surround my death-hanging...I dream of Beau dying the same way, and...all these others at my wake, dancing and dancing and dancing until their feet are bleeding, they can’t seem to stop...it’s a horrible nightmare, and...I’ve been having it...a lot. Too many times, I’d say.

But...at the same time,” he sighed, in both confusion and exasperation. “I dream of...something after that. I’m a ghost...and so is everyone else around me. We live like we did when we were alive, there’s so many people from so many walks of life in my house, as if we all lived together, I...it’s sort of...nice to see; even if we’re all dead, we’re...happy, somehow. I...I even want to say that...that you and Randall, y-you’re there!”

Admittedly, these nicer dreams of life (or something like it) as a ghost were few and far between on account of the nightmares too often intruding upon his sleeping mind, but still, these dreams of being a ghost were an ever-present part of his dreams as of late. Even though he knew they were dreams, there was still something so real about them...

Looking back to Emily once again, he asked, still hoping she’d believe him, still hoping she understood, because she’d had the same dreams: “Have you...have you been...dreaming the same a-as of late, Miss de Clair?”