I’m so glad about all the feedback this is getting! Seriously, I’ve gotten more comments here than on most of my stories on FFn. Thank you to everyone who’s been commenting and putting up with the ridiculous wait times on these chapters. It’s been so long since people have acknowledged my existence as an author! Short chapter is short, but worth the wait... right?
Things got quiet after that. The dreams stopped for a while too, leaving Alfred to guess that the two were connected.
It had been months since he had seen the ghost and every once in a while, he would leave something out, only to come back to find it laying right where he put it. It wasn’t hard getting used to cleaning up, back in college he’d clean up for both himself and his roommate, Gilbert. Of course, he ended up going back to Germany once senior year was over, something about his brother’s wedding to some Italian.
Alfred sighed, not wanting to think about being alone. He was reading a Stephen King novel, a thin paperback, and enjoying every minute of it. Sure, his books scared the bachelor shitless, but he loved it. How many other writers could make haunted hotels even more terrifying?
Suddenly stricken by an acute hunger pain, Alfred left the book open, spine up, on the coffee table in front of him to mark his page. After he made a sandwich for lunch, he came back to find his copy of The Shining laying closed on the coffee table, a shred of paper sticking out of it as a bookmark. He smiled slightly, finishing up lunch and reading another chapter before leaving it the same way on the coffee table.
As soon as he turned his back, he felt the book collide with the back of his head. He rubbed his injury and turned around to grab his book.
“Thanks for coming back,” Alfred said to the silence with a smile.
------
Later that night, the ghost came out of hiding again. Alfred was fast asleep, as he usually was around this time, around midnight. Of course watching someone sleep was incredibly creepy, but he’d gotten over it. There was just something interesting about this boy. It wasn’t every day someone just casually buys the house you’ve been living alone in for nearly a decade. Alright, he wasn’t necessarily living per say, but the house had been uninhabited for that entire time, aside from the occasional interested buyer, but none of them ever bought it. As nice a house as it was, they’d usually sense something wrong with it (or Arthur would mess with them until they did), but Alfred had been completely oblivious to him, and seemed almost endeared when he finally realised what was happening. He was strange, he was unbelievably thick, but, in his own way, a better housemate than that frog he was forced to room with in college. Of course, he left the place a mess and couldn’t handle a book properly to save his life, but that’s what he was for.
Not to mention Alfred was kind of adorable when he slept. Of course, the ghost would never admit it, but that was pretty much the only reason he did this. Luckily for him, he could stay invisible as long as he wanted, as long as he didn’t touch anything. The good thing about this mistlike state was that he didn’t have to stand all the time and could sit in thin air without worrying about falling. After all, he was already hovering a few centimetres off the ground already. The ghost had managed to learn patience after eight years of being forced to stay in an empty house. Or was it nine? For all he knew, it could have been ten. He was surprised by how easily he lost track of time.
I decided to keep the ghost a mystery because that’s how I’d do the fic if it wasn’t a fill. Of course, we all know who the ghost is, but let’s pretend we didn’t read the prompt, even if it’s just to humour me. I just thought it would be nice to provide some information about him without completely revealing who he is to Alfred.
Alone- Chapter 3/?
Things got quiet after that. The dreams stopped for a while too, leaving Alfred to guess that the two were connected.
It had been months since he had seen the ghost and every once in a while, he would leave something out, only to come back to find it laying right where he put it. It wasn’t hard getting used to cleaning up, back in college he’d clean up for both himself and his roommate, Gilbert. Of course, he ended up going back to Germany once senior year was over, something about his brother’s wedding to some Italian.
Alfred sighed, not wanting to think about being alone. He was reading a Stephen King novel, a thin paperback, and enjoying every minute of it. Sure, his books scared the bachelor shitless, but he loved it. How many other writers could make haunted hotels even more terrifying?
Suddenly stricken by an acute hunger pain, Alfred left the book open, spine up, on the coffee table in front of him to mark his page. After he made a sandwich for lunch, he came back to find his copy of The Shining laying closed on the coffee table, a shred of paper sticking out of it as a bookmark. He smiled slightly, finishing up lunch and reading another chapter before leaving it the same way on the coffee table.
As soon as he turned his back, he felt the book collide with the back of his head. He rubbed his injury and turned around to grab his book.
“Thanks for coming back,” Alfred said to the silence with a smile.
------
Later that night, the ghost came out of hiding again. Alfred was fast asleep, as he usually was around this time, around midnight. Of course watching someone sleep was incredibly creepy, but he’d gotten over it. There was just something interesting about this boy. It wasn’t every day someone just casually buys the house you’ve been living alone in for nearly a decade. Alright, he wasn’t necessarily living per say, but the house had been uninhabited for that entire time, aside from the occasional interested buyer, but none of them ever bought it. As nice a house as it was, they’d usually sense something wrong with it (or Arthur would mess with them until they did), but Alfred had been completely oblivious to him, and seemed almost endeared when he finally realised what was happening. He was strange, he was unbelievably thick, but, in his own way, a better housemate than that frog he was forced to room with in college. Of course, he left the place a mess and couldn’t handle a book properly to save his life, but that’s what he was for.
Not to mention Alfred was kind of adorable when he slept. Of course, the ghost would never admit it, but that was pretty much the only reason he did this. Luckily for him, he could stay invisible as long as he wanted, as long as he didn’t touch anything. The good thing about this mistlike state was that he didn’t have to stand all the time and could sit in thin air without worrying about falling. After all, he was already hovering a few centimetres off the ground already. The ghost had managed to learn patience after eight years of being forced to stay in an empty house. Or was it nine? For all he knew, it could have been ten. He was surprised by how easily he lost track of time.
I decided to keep the ghost a mystery because that’s how I’d do the fic if it wasn’t a fill. Of course, we all know who the ghost is, but let’s pretend we didn’t read the prompt, even if it’s just to humour me. I just thought it would be nice to provide some information about him without completely revealing who he is to Alfred.