slytherin boys react

lorenzo berkshire: haunting them after they killed you

he sits at his desk, completely engrossed in the book he's reading, when suddenly, he feels a firm push against his back. he lets out a surprised gasp, the book slipping from his hands as he's propelled forward. quickly regaining his balance, he turns around to see who's behind the sudden intrusion.

when he sees you standing there with a smirk on your face, he lets out a resigned sigh. "seriously? was that necessary?"

you chuckle, your smirk widening. "oh, come on. you know you love it when i keep you on your toes."

he rolls his eyes, shaking his head in mock exasperation. "you really enjoy making me jump out of my skin, don't you?"

still chuckling, you swiftly pick up the fallen book before he can reach it. as he tries to grab it, you effortlessly hold it out of his reach, floating it just beyond his fingertips. he stands there, frustrated, his arms stretching out to try and reach the book, but his fingers just graze the edges, never quite able to grasp it.

you glide closer, now positioned behind him. your hands come up to his shoulders, gripping them gently. he jumps, not expecting the physical contact, but he doesn't pull away. in fact, he notices a strange flutter in his chest at the sensation.

leaning in, you press your lips to the back of his neck, your breath warming his skin. he shivers from your coldness, a small gasp escaping him. your cold hands glide down his arms, the touch making his arms erupt with goosebumps. your lips move to his ear, your voice a soft whisper.

"can't reach the book, can you?" you murmur, enjoying the reaction you're getting from him. he shivers again, and he can feel his heart racing in his chest.

"quit teasing," he manages to say, his voice betraying his growing excitement.

you step back, enjoying watching him squirm. he turns around, his expression a mixture of irritation and a hint of longing. he notices you floating the book in front of you, looking curiously at the cover. it's a book about ghosts and poltergeists. he feels a pang of shame as he wonders how you'll react to what he was reading.

your eyes drift back to him, your expression unreadable. he shifts uncomfortably, feeling exposed as you hold the book in your hands, clearly having read the title. you look at him closely, your gaze piercing. "are you trying to get rid of me for good?" you ask, your voice tinged with a mix of hurt and accusation.

he fidgets with the hem of his shirt, avoiding your gaze. finally, he lets out a resigned sigh, his shoulders slouching in defeat. "actually, i was trying to bring you back," he admits in a small voice, his cheeks turning red with embarrassment. he chances a glance at you, waiting for your reaction.

he rubs the back of his neck, still avoiding eye contact. "i was trying to find a way to bring you back. i tried looking for spells and rituals, but none of them worked." his voice is soft, filled with remorse. he finally looks up at you, his eyes filled with guilt. "i miss you," he says quietly.

your expression softens, his genuine words taking you off guard. you float a little closer to him, your gaze meeting his earnest eyes. "you... miss me?" you ask, your voice almost a whisper.

he stutters, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of red as he corrects himself. "i miss your touch," he says quickly, before catching himself. "i mean... your warm touch," he amends, still avoiding eye contact, feeling embarrassed.

you let out a sarcastic chuckle, letting the book fall to the ground. he flinches at the sound of it hitting the floor. "how ironic," you say, your voice tinged with bitterness. "you killed me and now you're trying to bring me back to life."

"i don't understand why you'd want me back," you continue, floating closer. "you're the reason i'm... like this, stuck in this form."

he feels a pang of guilt as he looks at you, your ghostly form a permanent reminder of his sins. he reaches out a hand towards you, his fingers barely brushing your translucent skin.

he looks up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of shame and defiance. "i was glad at first," he says quietly, his voice laced with guilt. he looks down at his clenched hand, the memory of what he did still fresh in his mind. "but afterwards... i felt guilty. i missed you more than i thought was possible."

he lets out a shaky breath, his eyes still fixed on his clenched fist. "i thought i'd be relieved to be rid of you," he admits, his voice filled with a hint of remorse. he looks back up at you, his expression tormented. "but now i just feel hollow. like a part of me is missing because you're gone."

he steps closer, closing the distance between you. he reaches out a hand towards your cheek, his touch warm and tender. "i miss your laugh, your smile," he says, his voice low and emotional. "i miss the way you looked at me. like i was the only person in the world." he lets out a shaky breath, his fingers tracing the line of your cheek. "i miss feeling your warmth on my skin."

he steps even closer, his body almost pressed against yours. he runs his fingers through your hair, the ghost of a touch sending shivers down your spine. "i miss feeling your lips on mine," he confesses, his voice a mere whisper. "i miss holding you close, feeling your heartbeat against my chest."