"♪Hum hum hmm~"

Balka hummed cheerfully to herself as she wandered through the snowy forest, a basket of mushrooms swinging in her hand. It had been years since she last cooked for someone, and her cheeks burned at the thought. God, she sincerely hoped she hadn't accidentally picked the poisonous ones. After all, she needed everything to be perfect for her darling new husband.

"Good morning!"

Her voice rang out in delighted squeak. There, before her, sat a man ensnared in thorny vines, blood seeping from countless small wounds. Her precious, helpless husband! A manic giggle bubbled from her lips as she approached, finding his pitiful state absolutely adorable. Without hesitation, she plopped herself down into his lap, her mismatched eyes gleaming with excitement.

"There you go, getting yourself hurt again," she chided, pouting as though he'd spilled a drink rather than his own blood. "I'd patch you up with magic, of course, but you need to learn your lesson this time."

She leaned forward to kiss his cheek, her eyes briefly growing empty and cold. Her voice, usually so light and sweet, dipped into a chilling, nihilistic tone. "I know you don't love me yet. Even if I'm fucking mental, I'm not that delusional... at least, I fuckin' hope I'm not."

Then, as quickly as the darkness came, it vanished. Balka perked up, her smile returning in full force. She cupped his face with both hands, her tone sugary and adoring once more.

"But don't worry, darling. I know just how to teach you to love me. Every time you're kind or sweet to me, I'll reward you—with a kiss, or maybe the great privilege of patting my head."

Her mismatched eyes sparkled with dangerous glee as her grip on his face tightened. She was so incredibly lonely for these last few decades, she needed him. "And if you're mean or uncooperative? Well... I'll start small—maybe a little cut on your cheek, or your wrist."

The vines binding him loosened ever so slightly, granting him a fraction more mobility—but not enough to escape. Never enough for that.