The Wildflower and the Poltergeist

∙ warmth ∙

When Abby arrived at the apartment, it was already half past nine. The lobby was dimly-lit by a flickering light that hung above them, but nobody was there. Abby sighed upon entering and asked herself: "Who am I kidding? Isaac isn't who he used to be."

It was true, Isaac and Abby used to be very close friends in high school. Isaac was in another class, but they always met up during lunch time. Back then, he was a very awkward boy with bowl-cut hair, but he grew up to be a handsome man with a special charm, and not to mention, a narcissist.

As Abby approached the staircase, she realized that she could no longer stand the aching sensation in her toes. She sat down on the first step and slowly pulled the shoes off of her feet. She curled her toes and loosened up a little, sighing to herself as she leaned her head against the brick walls. She was slowly starting to doze off. I should go upstairs, she thought to herself, but she thought that she was too tired anyway. I'll just rest my eyes, she thought, and Luke thought so too. He thought she was just trying to rest her eyes, but that didn't seem to be the case, because she was still asleep half an hour later.

When he realized that there was nothing he could do about the fact that she had already fallen asleep, he thought of a way to give her a little warmth. It was so cold in the lobby—she shouldn't be here, otherwise she'd wake up with aching joints and stiff fingers.

Maybe a blanket could help, he thought, but he realized that even if he did bring her a blanket, she would remain just as uncomfortable. He shook his head. No, I shouldn't do that, he thought when his subconscious suggested carrying her all the way back to her room.

Maybe I should though, he thought. He didn't want Abby to wake up with a stiff neck and a cold. Besides, she seemed pretty exhausted. She wouldn't wake up to find herself floating back to her room, would she?

Luke inhaled deeply and looked down at Abby's sleeping figure. Nobody would be out in the hallway at this hour, right? He hoped so, because he knew that once he carried her, there'd be no turning back.

He positioned himself beside her and slipped one hand under her legs, the other on her back. Slowly, he lifted her up and stared at her for a few moments. He wanted to be as quick as possible, but this wasn't a moment that would simply repeat itself, right?

He was making a horrible decision, but he was proud of himself for doing so. Abby would be confused when she woke up, of course, and no one would know who brought her upstairs. He'd also have to listen to another one of Old Paul's relentless sermon's for about an hour and a half if the old ghost finds out. Either way, he felt happy. Abby's warmth filled him up as he watched her breathe. She didn't seem to notice—maybe it was because he did feel like air.

When he climbed upstairs in silence, his heart skidded to a halt when he saw a figure at the end of the hallway. The figure stared in his direction, confused. Then, the ghost realized that the figure was just Old Paul—but should he really be relieved to see the old ghost?

Old Paul scowled and rushed to him. "What are you doing, boy?" he asked as Luke looked apologetic, "She was cold," he explained. The old ghost shook his head in disapproval, "Your feelings are getting harder and harder to conceal. Just..." he looked at Abby.

"Just hurry up," he said. "You should be lucky we don't have security cameras around here," he said. Luke raised his eyebrows in amusement, "You don't?"

Old Paul shook his head, "Otherwise I wouldn't be playing cards and reading books so casually in the lobby. Now, go, go..."

"You're not going to mad about this, are you?" Luke asked as Old Paul stared at him with a blank expression on his wrinkled face. "Do you want me to?" the old ghost asked as Luke smiled, "No."