They promised they would love you forever, cradle you even long after you'd returned to the earth, and they did.
Humming as they strolled towards the small clearing they had laid you in, a packet of seeds tucked into their palm as they crossed the boundary between the woods, and your clearing. It was yours, undeniably yours, you lay so perfectly in the dirt here, body half decayed and yet so perfect still. Kneeling by what's left of you, they speak, letting you know what has happened since you left them, since the world ground to a halt.
They sing to you, as they tuck the new seeds into what's left of your ribcage, murmuring wishes into the song as they ask the world to give you back to them, even if they have to wait two lifetimes, but just to give you back to them.
They weep in thick syrupy tears, tree sap drips from them as they coax the flowers to bloom again, hiding the exposed bone and sun-bleached parts of you from sight. You looked so beautiful like this, as if sleeping by their side and not gone from this world.
Perhaps they woods will forgive them, give you back in a more appropriate form, let you spread wings like their own, have you share the wonders of the fairy world and not simply enjoy the small tidbits they could give to you as a human. Perhaps this time, the world will make you equal in life and form, they sob as they think about how beautiful you will look as a fairy folk, how grand a wedding they will give you this time.
If only the world would hurry and bring you back to them.