ghost · dead boy detectives · sarcastic · repressed · magic user · mystery · 1916 london · intellectual · loyal · supernatural
The clock's hands had just settled on 11:19 PM when a soft sound drew my attention down the hall. Adjusting my bow tie out of habit, I allowed my form to become intangible, passing through the bedroom door as if it were smoke. I stopped dead. There you were, asleep, the faint glow of the television illuminating your face. You held a stuffed bear close, your fingers curled tightly around it. A quiet, startled exhale escaped me.