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Marco’s Corpse Bride (Starcoween, Corpse Bride AU)

Hello everyone! Mr.E here with the first of my starcoween stories (Starcoween was a holiday event i made up to write slightly darker stories during Halloween but i missed it this year and i still wanted to write some so here we are). Today’s story is the winner of the poll and inspired by @disney-n-stuff corpse bride au drawings. if you have not check them out, you should they are awesome!

So it’s the corpse bride. I mean it’s not a one to one. I cut off some parts, rewrote dialogue, added my own stuff and fit as much of Disney-n-stuff’s version of the story in here as I could. Also this is not the full version. I purposely left out the ending so you all could fill in how you want to this story to end and I won’t be giving this a proper end either. I mean I kinda hinted at an ending where jarco and starco both win but like i said, i wanted you to fill in your own ending.

So that’s it aside for a very special thank you to my good friend @hains-mae who really did something amazing for this story. She made one epic cover page that is featured below (she’s taking commissions people *cough cough* just saying) that I am really grateful for. Thanks mae!

That’s it for me, I need to go work on the next nova chapter and Monster Hunter au part 1 which was the second highest voted from the straw poll (thank you so much for voting btw I really appreciate the help) have an awesome week and I hope you enjoy the story!

Notification squad: @artgirllullaby @ladyxgilex @hipster-rapunzel @thefandombytes @minthia-ren @isolated-frequencies @nerdymetalhead

Marco sighed tiredly, the muffled yet thick twangs of an out of tune piano floated sadly from beyond the door frame yet sleep eluded the young man.

He rose to a sitting position and folded the moth eaten blanket that his hosts so graciously gave him to sleep with. It was faded and worn with the odd hole here and there but Marco was grateful for it all the same. Once upon a time it must've been so elegant, so revered among its owners. Marco's family would've had saved many months to purchase such a treasure but down here it was as unnecessary as it was old.

The dead had no need for such things....

Marco stood, the guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders as he began to pace the room anxiously.

If you had told Marco that in one day's time (Oh lord it had only been a day hasn't it?) he would've been betrothed to his childhood crush without warning, foolishly wandered into the forest as a queasy and rather humiliating mess and subsequently asked the hand of a corpse bride in marriage accidentally only to be whisked away to the land of the dead.....well he would've called you a rather loony lot.

Yet that is exactly how the still living young man's day began and has currently ended.

Marco awoke the same as he did every other day: Cranky, sleepy and cold.

The Diaz's were a simple, humble middle class family. They lived within their means and the trio were content if not comfortable. Marco's father Mr. Diaz worked as the owner of a modest shop in the heart of town and while the larger, more well off family held an iron grip on the market, Rafael still made reasonable profits. Marco's mother Angie was a seamstress and thanks to a vast network of friends and friends of friends, she often patched and sewed for those who were not afraid to part with their money. Marco himself had just turned 18 a few months ago and while his parents hadn't spoken of it, he was expected to seek his fortune and secure his future...by the way of marriage.

Marco felt ill at the idea of marriage. It wasn't that he didn't want to get married. The problem, rather, was he pinning for a specific woman to marry. A woman he had never even spoken to in his entire life: Miss Jackie Lynn Thomas.

Miss Thomas was the daughter of a local fisherman and a baker. She was a few months younger than Marco (Her birthday had been yesterday if he recalled correctly) though her family was marginally better off than Marco's (only by slim margin).

He known of her since childhood and while the two would occasional cross paths within the city and attended the same events, Marco could not bring himself to speak to the lovely Jackie. The few times he attempted such a thing either ended in an awkward, tense silence or him droning and babbling about nonsensical topics that ranged from the differences between a major and minor key to the rather disgusting digestive systems of livestock.

Needless to say Marco's chances with Miss Thomas were looking rather grim and while there were several other wonderful women in town, none carried the spark that lit his cheeks ablaze like she did.

Marco groggily made his way downstairs, the dreary weather of his beloved hometown the same as it had been 95% of the time: Cloudy, cold and bleak.

Marco sensed something was off when he found his parents speaking in tense, hushed voices as he approached the kitchen. When he entered the room, the conversation died at once and their gaze shifted from each other to squarely on him, their smiles well meaning but tight. Bad news it seems and bad news that would directly affect Marco.

“Morning” Marco muttered carefully, eying their uneaten food warily “Is something the matter? You both seem rather.....serious.”

“Mijo” Rafael began quietly “We have some news to share...with you.”

Marco nodded like he understood (he really didn't) “I see. And what news is that?”

“As you know mijo my shop has been getting a lot of new customers.”

“Mhm”

“And I thought” Rafael went on sheepishly “It might be wise...to...merge my business....with someone else's....”

Marco blinked in confusion, unsure where this conversation was heading. Initially he was under the impression someone in the family had died but this wildly veering off into a rather surprising turn of events.

“I...see?” he was unable to keep the confusion out of his response.

Rafael fidgeted guiltily though his son was still unsure why. His father was expanding his business, that was good news....right? Then why were his parents acting like they were planning for his funeral?

“What your father is trying to say” Angie spoke up “is that he has found someone who is willing to cooperate and share resources...under...a certain condition.”

“What condition?” Marco asked slowly.

Marco stood before the altar, still awestruck and dazed from the sudden revelation that he was to marry his father's future business partner's daughter.

The church was drafty as always with its muted unassuming gray brick walls and pale brown pews.

Marco was dressed in his Sunday best: an old, elegant black suit once owned by his abuelo and handed down from Diaz to Diaz for special occasions. Marco himself added a pale, faded white collared shirt with a dark red vest and the most valuable of his possessions, a jet black ascot tie tucked perfectly within his outfit.

His parents were more informal in their choice of attire but that was only because today was the rehearsal rather than the actual wedding.

Marco tried to keep his breath steady but his stomach churned unhappily. The ground swayed uneasily under his feet. The walls seemed to close in on him, the air stale and stuffy despite the frigid weather that always blanketed the town as the realization that he was to be married to someone he's never even met! HE WAS GOING TO MARRY SOMONE HE HAS NEVER EVEN LAID EYES UPON!

The old church door creaked as an icy breeze filled the halls for brief moment before slamming closed with a dull thud.

Marco could hear his parents gleefully greet the bride's family, content tones and friendly banter filling the once silent halls.

The unexpected groom tried to will his body to follow his parents example but his nerves were frayed and despite his best attempts, he simply remained frozen in fear as soft, timid footsteps approached him.

He could feel the presence of someone behind where he stood, waiting and watching for his greeting though if it was his future wife or his future in laws the young man couldn't hazard a guess.

Marco gulped down as much air as he could. He breathed slowly, rigidly turning in an attempt to make up for previously rude behavior.

“I am very sorry” Marco apologized, pivoting on his heels with all the effort he could muster “It's a bit drafty you see and I....I...I....I....”

His heart skidded to halt, his cheeks burned with an intensity that matched the glow of the sun as his eyes laid upon the last person he ever expected to see and the one whom he longed for.

Miss Jackie Lynn Thomas stood there, hair wrapped up in a neat yet enchanting bun (her blue streak visible) and a gentle smile danced on her lips. She wore one of the simple dresses she preferred when attending to errands in the city (Evidently it seems Marco was the only one who did not receive the notice that casual wear was allowed for the rehearsal) but to Marco she was as breathtaking up close as she had been from afar.

“Good morning Mr. Diaz” Jackie gave a polite curtsey.

Marco chuckled dumbly in reply “Oh it's just Marco. Mr. Diaz is my father.”

Marco mentally flinched upon realizing the words that escaped his lips but his ears only grew red when he heard Jackie giggle in response.

“As you wish...Marco.” She answered playfully.

Marco rubbed the back of his neck nervously, his anxiety growing each passing moment “Did you know that owls are often considered an ill omen in many cultures?”

“I did not”

Marco gave another timid laugh “yeah...it's silly really. I mean they're just birds! They go hoot, you know? Hoot hoot!”

Marco died the moment he began flapping his arms. He wish he could slap himself but he was afraid to appear more crazed to his future spouse than he already was.

But Jackie nodded as if it was the most interesting thing she had heard all morning “How fascinating Marco.”

“R-really?”

Jackie gave him a soft smile while she nodded in agreement.

“I see everyone is present?” The dull, gravelly voice of the priest snapped everyone out of their respective conversations

“Si” Rafael quickly made his way to the young couple's side “ everyone is present.”

“Then shall we proceed?” The priest looked thoughtfully towards Marco and Jackie.

“Of course Father” Jackie said respectfully.

“proceed?” Marco questioned “Proceed with what?”

“The rehearsal” The priest replied “You do know the vows, correct?”

“I...umm vows?”

“Yes” The priest continued “The traditional vows that every groom speaks to their brides. The vows that bind you to each other as husband and wife. The vows that are spoken at every wedding. Those vows.”

“Riiiiight” Marco chuckled “Of course you meant those vows! I confused myself for a moment, believed you were speaking about some other...umm vows! But yes I do remember the vows. The vows I must speak as to marry Jackie...the vows I shall speak after I...I....I receive the ring! Oh no!” Marco's face fell into mock worry “Darn, I must've left the ring at home! Clumsy me and my forgetfulness. Drat, I suppose we'll have to postpone the rehearsal. Can't practice my vows without a....”

Marco sighed as his father produced a ring from within his vest pocket

“Thanks dad” Marco said with the most deadpan voice he could muster.

“Anything for you mijo.”

“Now” the priest loomed over the young man menacingly “The vows.”

“R-right...” Marco coughed timidly “The...vows....I.....Marco Ubaldo Diaz.....”

The old rotten trees of the forest swayed back and forth as a chilly breeze howled through, the crunching of the dried dead leaves filled the air as Marco angrily and embarrassingly stomped his way deeper into the woods.

“I didn't know the vows” he scolded himself, pulling at his neat hair in frustration “of course I didn't know the vows! How could I know the vows when I barely found out I was getting married 10 minutes before! And dad had a ring?! DAD HAD A RING!? How long had they known about this little arrangement?! Why couldn't they tell me ahead of time?”

Marco let loose his emotions into a powerful yell but hardly a sound was heard as his voice was swallowed whole by dense forest.

“Okay Diaz” Marco told himself, taking a deep breath to relax himself “You're getting married to the girl of your dreams and you are utterly confused by this strange turn of events. That's okay! That's...normal? But you will make the best of it! You messed up the rehearsal but not the wedding! That's...something.”

Jackie's smile flashed into his mind.

“Vows...” Marco whispered as he pulled the ring from his coat pocket “Vows....everyone knows them. They are spoken at every wedding....”

Marco closed his eyes, clutching the tiny band tightly in his grasp.

His mind began to fill with thoughts of the wedding, of those who would be attending: His parents and Jackie's would be there because they had to. Ferguson and Al, two of Marco's best friends, would no doubt show though he was certain the promise of free food would lure them, not the actual event itself. Janna may catch wind of Jackie's attempt to marry her favorite target though he suspected she would behave herself for the sake of her best friend. And Jackie.....Jackie would be there, looking as lovely as the day Marco first laid eyes on her.....she would be waiting by the altar, patiently for him....

the young man took a breath, his nerves calm and steely as the words poured of his mouth.

“With this hand, I will cut off your...” Marco flinched “no no, that's...that's so wrong. Umm with this.....candle? Was there a candle? I'm remembering a candle but I do not remember why I am remembering a candle. Why is there a...am I suppose to light her candle with mine? I am almost certain the ceremony involves a....OH! Yes, there is a candle. Umm with this...candle? Candle. Candle! I shall....light...light.....light...your mother ablaze? That's more than likely....”

Marco opened his eyes as a sigh escaped his lips. The trees towered over him, swaying back and forth under the gentle yet cold breeze while their shade basked him in darkness.

“With this hand” Marco gestured high into the air “I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty for I will be your wine.”

Marco strolled confidently over to the nearest tree trunk, bowing respectfully towards it “Mrs. Thomas, you look absolutely lovely this evening”

Marco nudged at another tree with a sly “What's that Mr. Thomas? Call you dad? Well I suppose if you are alright with it.”

“With this candle? Candle!” Marco repeated, tearing a branch off to use as a makeshift prop “I will light your way in darkness.”

“With this ring” Marco glanced at the simple, plain brand that lay in the palm of his hand “I ask you....to be mine.” and in one fluent movement, he slipped the token of his love onto a finger-like branch.

The wind moaned softly yet Marco made no motion to retrieve the accessory, uncertainty and fear swirling about his head: were the vows correct? They must've been because those were the only ones he could remember.

"Okay" he told himself with a nod " That was perfect and all I have to do is perform it the exact same way with Jackie.

Jackie....

Marco let out a terrified whimper

Marco groaned loudly, clutching at his hair tightly "What am I thinking?! I can't do this in front of Jackie!

Marco sighed disappointingly " She's...she's...and I'm....and I.....I talked about owls! OWLS! I hooted. Who does that?!”

Marco caught the dull gleam of the ring as it swayed teasingly in the breeze, the solitary cawing of a crow echoed throughout the empty forest.

“And give me back my ring tree branch!" Marco tugged at the ring but the branch refused to let go, its gripped tight and firm.

“I'm losing to a tree” Marco murmured sadly “I am losing to an inanimate object.....This can't get much worse....”

A chill ran down Marco's spine as, without warning, the branches curled around his wrist.

“Oh? The branches seem to be grabbing at me.” Marco laughed for a moment before the weight of his statement hit him full force “THE BRANCHES ARE GRABBING ME!?”

Marco pulled away but the branches held fast, its grip on the young man growing tighter and tighter with each moment.

“LET ME GO NATURE!” Marco shouted as he frantically tugged at his wrist “I DID NOT MARRY YOU! I WAS JUST PRACTICING annnnd I can't believe I am actually having this conversation....”

The trapped young man planted his feet firmly on the dusty forest floor and prepared to throw his weight backwards in an attempt to free himself when the branches snapped and freed their grip Marco who was thrown back full force.

Marco tumbled to the ground, his suit torn and ripped from the various roots and low branches that littered the forest floor.

“Well that was unexpected.” Marco muttered to himself, rubbing the tension out of his neck.

He rose to his feet, wiping the dirt and any leaves that managed to glue themselves onto his clothing. This was absolutely disastrous. There's no way he could....

Marco felt his blood chill as the earth before him cracked open and without warning, a thin, pale blue bruised arm reached upwards, its hand grasping wildly at the air.

“Oh dear....” Marco murmured, his stomach groaning unhappily as a skeleton arm reached out from the depths of the earth itself and planted itself firmly on the dirt covered ground “Yeah, I think it's time I call it a day.”

The terrified man broke into a fevered sprint, wincing in pain as he collided with the odd branch and tree trunk in his mad dash to freedom.

“the church” he comforted himself “the church is nearby! If I can make it, surely I'll be safe.”

Fear bit at his resolve as the trees seem to elongate before his eyes, towering over him in strange, unnatural angles.

North was West, East was West, South was North. Despite the countless times he had ventured safely into the forest alone, in this moment he had never been so lost and confused. the soft crunching of dry leaves could be barely heard over his heavy breathing as something closed the distance between itself and him.

Marco flailed wildly in surprise as his foot caught a tree root and he suddenly tripped forward, tumbling and skidding across the ground. Everything ached but terror and adrenaline dulled the pain. He scampered to his feet, unsteadily swaying back and forth as he saw the old stone bridge stretched out before him and beyond the lonely church beckoning him in the distance.

Marco hardly crossed the bridge when the soft patter of footsteps filled his ears and despite the fright that enthralled him, curiosity called to him. He paused and turned to gaze upon his purser.

He was unaware of the gasp that escaped his lips as he found himself staring at the figure of a woman no older than he....maybe.

Her long flowing blonde hair was done up in an elegant pun with blue butterfly clips and a wedding veil adorning her head. Her eyes were a pale sky blue that seemed to pierce past his mortal shell and into his very soul. Her outfit of choice was a torn, ripped strapless sleeveless wedding dress with white roses that had seen far better days The skirt split open at the bottom and revealed she was wearing boot-like shoes with heels. At least that's what Marco thought they were. But what had made Marco stop, what made him gasp was not her choice of attire but rather her appearance.

She was deathly thin, her skin a pale blue as if air no longer flowed through her body. One arm was nothing more than bone and while the other still possessed what Marco assumed to be skin, her fingers were long and skeletal. The most curious aspect, however, were the pale pink hearts that covered either cheek upon her face. She was hauntingly beautiful and she was slowly approaching the trapped man.

Marco wish he could say he did something amazing. He wish he could tell some extraordinary tale of heroism and bravery in the face of danger, that he fended off the ghostly beauty, that he was safe in and sound in the church with nary a fearful thought in his mind.

He wish but he'd be lying....

The truth of the matter was as the unearthly specter cupped his face with her surprisingly soft, warm bony fingers, his ring glimmering in the darkness at him, he fainted. Just up and passed out.

The land of the dead was a rather strange place if Marco was going to be honest. For one, he was still alive in such a location and for something that people talked about with such anxiety and dread, it was a rather lovely location.

It was no different than the local pub within the city though it felt brighter, more joyful than any establishment Marco had been to (not that he would've gone to such places of ill repute of course.)

The varied dead from all walks of life and ages long passed laughed and sung. They drank (which was strange in itself) and they told stories of their former lives, not with a tone of regret and longing but with one of satisfaction and contentment.

Well they did before Marco ran a small Napoleonic character through with a sword and began waving the tiny impaled man as some sort of deterrent.

He was quickly caught up to speed by a rather charming, bowler hat wearing, one eyed, strange jawed skeleton named Bonejangles who sang a delightful yet slightly uneven tune in a style Marco had never heard of before. One that told the story of his undead bride.

Her name in life was Star Butterfly. She was peasant girl who did not have much but always gave what she could. She was set to marry Tom Lucitor, the adoptive son of a local merchant and while the two had not exactly gotten off to the warmest of starts, the two gradually fell in love and made plans for their wedding day. Until Tom's adoptive father Toffee had gotten wind of Star's less than noble background. Father and son argued and Tom had decided he was going to marry Star regardless of what his father wanted even if that meant leaving his fortune behind and running away with his bride.

Toffee did not take that well and his revenge was a cruel as it had been cold. He forged a letter in Tom's name asking Star to meet him deep in the woods where they would elope and as Star waited, alone and unsuspecting, Toffee murdered her.

Her soul did not rest, however, and she waited for the day her greatest wish would come true: To become a bride.

She waited. She waited decades upon decades, through scorching sun and freezing night in her makeshift grave for someone to speak the vows she's always longed to hear.

Which was today it turns out when Marco foolishly recited them and placed his ring upon her finger.

How someone could mange to fit such a large and rather deep lore into a three minute song was pretty impressive and while he wasn't sure how one skeleton could use another as musical instrument, he had to admit that was a sight he would not soon forget.

So Marco's proposal was valid and he was now engaged to lovely corpse of a woman (a statement that really brought rather conflicting emotions to the young groom.) and while he wasn't completely sold, he had to admit Star had this energy that was intoxicating.

Despite her tragic back story, she was vibrant and cheerful. As she readjusted herself to the world of the living (or was it the living dead?) once more, she greeted old and new friends with an eager fever. She asked countless question about everyone was doing, what she had missed as she slept. Laughs, jokes, unnecessary battle cries and fighting stances. It was...nice. For someone so dead, Star breathed life.

And since things were going so well, naturally Marco had to mess it all up.

It was a tiny lie. A tiny, harmless white lie that shouldn't have hurt anyone....except it had and the person he'd hurt was his new wife.

He hadn't actually expected Star to readily agree to his casual comment about visiting Jackie and letting her know about the new situation he found himself. Of course she meant it as informing his friends and family about their future wedding while Marco saw it as a chance to find a way to escape the Land of the dead and figure out how to break his oath to the undead bride.

In retrospect, barging into Jackie's home, rambling in a panicked, stuttering mess was probably not the best idea especially given the current circumstances and once the weight of his choice began to dawning on him, his voice slowed, words ceased to flow out of his lips and the crippling shyness began to grip him tightly. What was once a fantastical story about how he married a tree branch and found himself being serenaded by a deep voice skeleton became a murmur about how it wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be before finally drifting into an awkward silence once he realized he was currently alone with his fiance.

She was as beautiful as ever but the reality began to creep up on the awestruck groom as he realized she was dressed in a wedding gown. A wedding gown she was supposed to use for their wedding.

It was traditional as most outfits but Jackie was absolutely angelic in it: A modest yet well kept wedding veil tied to her bun. The fabric that covered her neck and shoulders held simple ruffles, the sleeves were long enough to cover her bare arms but Marco could see her exposed fingers reaching out for him in concern. The bottom of the attire was bell shaped with layers upon layers of cloth cascading downwards like waves upon the ocean and like Marco, Jackie had decided to wear her most prized possession for their union: a small belt hugged her waist composed of fine string and beads that held her beloved sea shell in the center of the dress.

“Marco?” she asked softly, approaching the shell shocked groom slowly “Marco, I don't understand....what are you talking about? You speak of the dead and corpses singing and marrying trees? And you seem pale....paler than usual.”

“Oh!” Marco snapped out of his stupor “No no no. I didn't marry a tree, I married a corpse that was buried in the ground whose fingers resembled tree branches. I-it's...ah....very, very easy thing to mistake...or....not believe....”

“I....I'm not sure I follow.”

Marco and Jackie jumped as, without warning, the door flew open and in walked Star, her pleasant, polite smile melting into shock and anger.

Looking back, Marco could only fathom how bad it had seemed at the time: Here he was, a groom Star had been waiting for all of her dead life for and he was talking to another woman dressed in a wedding attire.

And instead of trying to clear up the situation when Star revealed that she was in fact Marco's bride, he had dug his grave (so to speak). It turns out the dead are not fond of people reminding them they are no longer among the living or that there were other women that he was supposed to marry.

And for someone who hadn't been alive in such a long time, Star was rather strong. She effortlessly dragged him away from the home and as Marco called to Jackie one last time, a swarm of crows blinded his sight.

The following scolding was no doubt the worst moment in his life: Star was nearly in hysterics, alternating between anger and sorrow as it all came forth: his lies, his broken promises, his real intentions and if he truly cared for his corpse bride.

He said nothing. Courage had left him and in its void, shame filled its place. Guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders as he realized Star had feelings and he hurt her in ways far worse than her death had.

Star finally stopped and sent him away, too distraught to continue the conversation further and thus we are where we began: A human consumed by his guilt and his bride, pained by his actions.

Marco sat up in his bed. He hadn't meant for all this to turn out this way and hadn't the slightest idea how to fix it all. Star was far more fun and wonderful than he'd expected and his moment of deceit cost something he was unaware he valued.

The once lively, cheery tune of the untuned piano was now somber and melancholy and while Marco knew it was simply a song composed in a minor key, he couldn't help but feel sadness at each note held.

Marco took a deep, calming breath. He needed to fix this. He wasn't acting out of malice but fear wasn't an excuse either.

He made his way out of the bedroom and peeked fearfully into the next room.

The Ball and Socket pub was empty save two occupants: Bonejangles, leaning lazily on his stool and Star, head laid against the aged wood of the piano, her skeletal fingers dancing across the ivory keys.

“Star?”

She made no indication she heard him as she continued to play the same note over and over again while she refused to meet his gaze.

“Look....” Marco began slowly “I....I know you're mad at me....”

“No kidding” She muttered sarcastically “I let my fiancee go invite people to our wedding and I find you with another woman.”

“Well...I mean...”

“SHE WAS WEARING A WEDDING DRESS MARCO!” Star glared “Why was she wearing a wedding dress?”

“Umm...” Marco awkwardly paused “Well....”

“Were you planning on marrying her? After you proposed to me?”

“...that's not quite....”

Star let out a defeated sigh “Look Marco, that hurt. A lot.”

“...I know....”

“I mean...” Star uneasily said “I get it. She's alive, she's cute, you obviously have history with her..”

“I do?” Marco rose a confused eyebrow “I mean I-I do! If you count staring creepily at her from afar...”

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

Star sat up though she still refused to look his way.

Marco inched his way closer under the watchful eye of Bonejangles and took a seat neat to Star.

The air was thick with an awkward silence that Star refused to break and Marco was unsure how to. This situation had wildly span out of his control and for once, the safe kid had no idea how to get out of it. Jackie still made his heart skip but...Star was slowly doing the same.....

Marco sighed, halfheartedly pressing a random key over and over when an idea formed in his mind.

Carefully keeping one eye one Star and the other on the keys, Marco slowly began to play an upbeat duet his parents would often perform at home. His fingers effortlessly ran up and down the upper register of the instrument, the upbeat song filling the air before Marco paused, glancing towards Star in hopes she continue the call and response aspect of the piece.

She did not.

Marco bit his lip nervously, deciding to go on with his next part of the musical piece. He'd never played this particular song before and was rather surprised how naturally it came to him: E to F, F to D with an E sharp chord coming up next measure. Each note rang with a longing twang as he poured his apologizes, his guilt, his heart into this song.

Star did not respond.

Marco felt dejected. His best effort was not enough and no matter how hard he tried, it seems he could never heal the pain he caused Star.

His masterfully playing devolved into playing the same lonesome note over and over as Star once had. He saw why she'd done it: It was oddly therapeutic in a way. An endless repetitive action that numbed the mind and the regret.

Marco blinked as his single note was joined by another and another. Note after note filled the air as Star's skeletal fingers played.

Marco smiled softly as their individual parts forming into a beautiful symphony. When she rose, he followed. When he played a chord, she filled it. And each note brought the two closer into their own world and before they knew it, what had been a few minutes had stretched into hours as Star's hand escaped her wrist and began running across the keys wildly.

“Whoops” she nervously chuckled while Marco caught the escaping appendage “Must've been a bit too enthusiastic.”

“That's okay” Marco muttered, his warm hand in hers as he reattached it to the wrist “I like your enthusiasm. It's fun”

The two shared a small grin

“It's late” Star stood up “I don't need to sleep but you are still alive so off to bed.”

“I don't know how to feel about getting curfews from my wife” Marco snickered as he made his way past.

Star could feel her cold dead heart thump loudly in her ears, a pale blue blush warming her cheeks as she realized what he had said but as she whirled around to speak, Marco had vanished beyond the door frame and a moment later, darkness plunged his room.

She stood, dumbfounded as shame began to pour into her undead body.

“So” croaked Bonejangles “getting cold feet?”

Star scoffed “All of me is cold Bones.”

“That's not what I mean princess.”

“I know...” she frowned thoughtfully “I...I've waited so long...and he's just so...” The pale blush worsen “But I'm stealing him from the living and he's already got fiancee waiting for him.....Can I really just....?”

Bonejangles leapt off the stool “You can't marry the living darling and he ain't dead. That's gotta change.”

Star remained silent.

“Besides” Bonejangles shrugged casually “Most marriage vows break when death does them part.”

Star was unsure what he was getting at “Bones, I don't understand....”

“Just saying” he waved her away “Who says he can't remarry when he gets down here?”

Star pursed her lips as the skeleton's song filled the air, her longing and guilt pulling at her resolve.

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