Phantom

13.

Eddy

Being home alone in Brett's apartment was boring. Being a ghost was in general boring. Time passed so slowly, it was unbearable, and he found himself just staring at the clock on the wall for a whole hour. It was 5pm. How long of a day did Brett actually have? He hadn't said how long he'd be gone before he left, but it couldn't be that much longer, right? How long was it until "soon" anyway?

He got out of the couch and wandered around the apartment for what felt like the millionth time that day. He had passed the violin, considering picking it up and playing. He stopped himself after running a finger over the out of tune strings. He wasn't too sure it would be too good of an idea considering how he'd fallen through the couch the day before. What the hell was even that about? Falling through shit?

Eddy peeked up at the clock again after passing the violin for the millionth-and-one time. 5:12pm. Fucking hell time moved slowly. He continued his round of the apartment to Brett's bedroom door. He had been considering to try if he could walk through it again like he had earlier. If he could blush he would as he thought about his drunken actions. Why the heck had he gone to Brett's bedroom like some creep? It wasn't like Brett had noticed, but still? And why the heck had he touched Brett's cheek, like an even creepier creep? It had been kinda soft, though, even softer than Eddy thought it would be.

He decided to try and walk through the door, resting his forehead on the door gently like he had that night. It wasn't like it would hurt to just ram his head against the door, seeing as he was already dead, but it would be very bad if he broke the door or something. Nothing happened. Not like that night where he had just fallen through the door as if it wasn't there. After minutes of trying to concentrate on whatever he was supposed to do to pass through stuff, and still nothing happened, he gave up.
"What kind of stupid ghost can't even walk through shit, huh?" he muttered to himself, hearing the sound of footsteps outside the apartment door. He listened closer.
"Finally home, huh?" he mumbled, not really speaking to the person outside the door. The sound moved closer, and if he listened properly he could make out some kind of breathing.
Eddy checked the time, 6pm, on the clock on the wall. Seemed like a logical time for him to come home, but Brett didn't unlock the door. Nobody did, and the sounds disappeared.
"Huh, must have been my imagination", Eddy sighed, sitting back down on the couch. It was lonely being a ghost.

A few hours later, Brett actually did come home, looking more tired than when Eddy had met him that first night. Not weird, thinking about how long he had been out."Hey", he sighed as he got inside, kicking his shoes off. He was still wearing his police uniform, and Eddy had to really focus not to stare at him. It was stupid, but it just sat so well on him, made him look well put together."Hey!" Eddy answered cheerily, excited to finally get some company. Days and nights were long as a ghost. "Rough day?" Eddy stepped over to where Brett had kicked off his shoes and placed them neatly on the shoe rack as Brett went to sit down on the couch. Eddy came over and sat down next to him, maybe just a notch closer than he would just a couple of days ago.