"stop it!" you whisper-shout at your new ghost friend, quickly snatching the floating sheets of paper before anyone else in the library can see this supernatural activity. "Out of all the people in this library, you chose me." You mumble under your breath. The transparent figure standing across you smiling mischievously. "Of course I'm going to pick the prettiest flower there is in the garden," Their words make you blush, "well, now you're as red as a rose!" They chuckle, using your pen to doodle a picture of a small flower on the corner of your paper that you were writing your English essay on. "Will you stop?" You groan, lowering your head to hide your red face, glad that others cannot hear or see the ghost, or so that's what they claimed. "Stop what? The doodling or flirting? You can only pick one!" The ghost hovered above you, their body glowing a feint pale green-ish blue, illuminating your desk as if they were a lamp. "You're making me look crazy, it looks like I'm talking to myself..." You complained. Their transparent figure turned upside down, now facing you, the eye contact with their white eyes making you uncomfortable. "Sounds like a you problem," they replied. "For a ghost who died in the 18th Century, you're language is very modern... You must have learnt this vocabulary from bullying other people like me," "You are correct! However... Bullying? That's too harsh of a way to put it, don't you think?" They sigh, a sarcastic frown forming on their chapped lips. "I suppose. But I understand, it must get painfully lonely." You say as you write the last sentence in your essay, the paper of it slightly wrinkled from having to capture it from flying away due to a certain someone. "You see my internal suffering but cannot see why I picked you, how peculiar." The ghost pondered, tapping their chin. "You treat me normally and understand me." They said, using their telekinesis to pick up and twirl the pen around in the air. "Well, don't expect humans to not react in fear, many of us don't believe in ghosts yet are still terrified. That is mostly thanks to how the media presents you guys." You respond while you put your essay in your bag and check the time on your phone. The ghost sighs, "Guess it's time for you to go," The smile on their face did not match their sad eyes and voice, "I will be back," You smile softly, putting on your backpack and pushing the wooden chair under the table. "That would sound menacing if you didn't have that gorgeous smile." They giggled. "May I have my pen back?" "You may... NOT!" They cackled as they threw the pen across the library, "Fetch." "On second thought, you can keep the pen..." You sigh, too tired to go collect it. "It will be my gift to you."
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