Libraries

Musical Book Worm |🍀 |

       After moving into a new home, Y/N would find to hear, late at night, soft hums and songful voice from the library in their home.

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miscellaneous

Requested: No.

point of view: third person

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        Their new home wasn't extravagant, it wasn't huge, but it was a nice size. A Victorian with a dark brown base color, and soft blue accent color for the outside.

       Within the home, the front door lead down a hall way, the hallway housing doorways to the formal dining room, front room, kitchen, and then the stairs. From the formal dining room, there is a doorway to a small, but beautiful library, with books, upon books.

       The bookshelves house ladders, the steps just barely large enough to let someone sit upon them.

        A little while after moving in, Y/N would start to think that while eating in the dinning room, they'd hear a soft singing from the Library, but when they go to look, and see of themselves, if there really was someone singing in the library, only to be met with the room of books.

       Even later, some books would be misplaced, sitting on the ladder and not on the shelf. It started making Y/N worried, scared even of the mysterious entity living inside their home; Until, a sleepless night.

      Y/N was reading, getting deep into a story that was way too good to put down, when Y/N hear that soft, echoey sing-song voice coming from downstairs, the sound instantly sending Y/N into a cold sweat.

       Standing up out of the bed, and slowly creeping down the wooded stairs and to the dining room, Y/N stood within the dining, listening to the tune, that sung out from the unknown, the sound alone from the echoey voice, easing Y/N from the beautiful sound.

        Y/N eventually peeked around the corner, peeking at a slightly translucent male sitting on a ladder, wearing a seemingly pale yellow sweater, while having faded brunette hair, and a soft, gray-ish beanie. He was singing. Singing a gentle tune while whisking through a book slowly, smiling down at the worn pages.

       He looked peaceful. Like a kind soul, slowly, Y/N stepped out. "Hello.." The song that fell from the male's lips froze, and he slowly looked toward the doorway to see the person standing there. He wore the look of a toddler who had been drawing on the walls, the look just screaming 'I'm caught'.

        Y/N, noticing, gave the faded male a soft smile. "Your singing is very pretty." They looked at him, before he closed the book, set it down, and stepped down the ladder, standing merely 3 feet away.

       "..Thank you.." His echoey voice was soft, and gentle, and he sounded like he was very far off, and like he had his mind constantly running with thoughts.

       Y/N gave the ghost man a soft smile once more. "I'm Y/N, what's your name..?" The Ghost seemed taken aback slightly, his head dipping slightly, and sheepishly. "I'm... I'm Wilbur.. But call me Ghostbur.. I prefer it.."

       Y/N smiled at him. "I don't mind you being here. I'm not kicking you out, I promise." Ghostbur looked at them quickly, flashing them a little smile. "Thank you.. Y/N.."

       Months start to go on, Ghostbur was a regular sight, floating around the house, and eventually, Y/N got a guitar, just for their new friend to play, often hearing him playing it in another room.

       He eventually opened up, telling Y/N memories from his life before the afterlife, about his home, about this country that was once named L'Manberg. His stories of the home, always filled with such passion, Y/N was fascinated by Ghostbur's words of his old home.

       Y/N even recalled the soft singing of Ghostbur later that night, soft strumming of the guitar, his echoey voice ringing softly through the house, the words ringing in Y/N's ears, and fading as they Drifted to sleep..

"...My L'Manberg..."

"...My L'Manberg.."

"...My L'Manb..."