lazy traveler

05/04/2026

19/03/2026

🎬 LOVE IN THE TIME OF UNDEAD
“No biting… just loving.”
Sa isang lungsod na halos lamunin na ng apoy, usok, at mga naglalakad na bangkay, may isang lalaki na tila hindi pa rin sumusuko—si Marco.
Hindi siya bayani. Hindi siya sundalo.
Isa lang siyang tao na gusto lang mabuhay… at makahanap ng kape kung posible.
Habang naglalakad siya sa wasak na kalsada, napansin niya ang kakaibang katahimikan. Walang sigaw. Walang takbuhan. Parang may mali.
“Okay… mas nakakatakot ‘to,” bulong niya.
At doon niya siya nakita.
Isang babae—marumi, sugatan, at… oo, zombie. Pero hindi siya tulad ng iba. Hindi siya sumugod. Hindi siya nag-growl.
Nakatitig lang.
“Uh… hello?” sabi ni Marco, dahan-dahang umaatras.
Lumapit ang babae. Medyo pilay. Medyo creepy.
“Braaa—”
Biglang tumigil.
“…Hi.”
Napakurap si Marco.
“Wait… nagsalita ka?!”
Ngumiti ang babae. Medyo may dugo sa ngipin… pero cute pa rin.
“Hindi… ako… kakain…” sabi niya, parang pinipilit maalala kung paano magsalita.
“Wow,” napakamot si Marco. “First time kong ma-reject ng zombie.”
Pinangalanan niya itong Bella.
Sa kabila ng delikadong mundo, naging magkasama sila—isang tao at isang zombie na pilit bumabalik sa pagiging tao.
Tinuruan niya si Bella ng mga simpleng bagay:
“Okay, ulitin mo—no biting.”
“…No… biting…” sabi ni Bella, sabay tingin sa leeg ni Marco.
“Hoy! Focus!”
Habang tumatagal, napapansin ni Marco na may nararamdaman siya.
“Hindi pwede ‘to,” kausap niya ang sarili. “Zombie ‘yan, Marco. ZOMBIE.”
Pero isang gabi, habang nakaupo sila sa gilid ng sirang gusali, nakatingin sa apoy sa malayo, sumandal si Bella sa balikat niya.
Tahimik. Walang gutom. Walang takot.
Para lang silang… normal.
“Alam mo,” sabi ni Marco, “kung hindi apocalypse ngayon, baka niligawan na kita.”
Tumingin si Bella sa kanya. Dahan-dahan siyang ngumiti.
“…Late ka na,” sagot niya.
Isang araw, nakasalubong nila ang grupo ng survivors.
“UY! May kasama kang zombie!” sigaw ng isa.
“Relax, girlfriend ko ‘to,” sagot ni Marco.
“ARE YOU INSANE?!”
Biglang lumapit ang isang zombie mula sa likod—mabilis, agresibo.
Bago pa makareact si Marco, sumugod si Bella… at hinarang ito.
Nag-away ang dalawang undead.
“BELLA!” sigaw ni Marco.
Sa huli, nanalo si Bella—pero sugatan siya.
Lumapit si Marco, nanginginig.
“Ba’t mo ginawa ‘yon…”
Tumingin si Bella sa kanya, mahina na ang boses.
“…No… biting… remember?”
Napatawa si Marco kahit umiiyak.
“Ang kulit mo talaga…”
Sa gitna ng mundong wasak, kung saan ang buhay ay panandalian at ang kamatayan ay pangkaraniwan…
May isang kwento na hindi inaasahan.
Isang lalaking natutong magmahal kahit mali.
At isang zombie na natutong magmahal kahit huli na.
Habang naglalakad sila sa abo ng lungsod, magkahawak ang kamay—
hindi perpekto, hindi normal…
pero totoo.
Dahil sa mundong patay na…
puso pa rin ang nabubuhay. 🧟‍♀️💖

19/03/2026

“CHECKMATE SA PUSO: Rematch ng Tadhana” ♟️❤️😂
Sa parehong café…
Parehong mesa…
Pero hindi na pareho ang laban.
Umupo si Lila, may dalang iced coffee.
Si Marco? Nakaabang na—parang grandmaster sa finals.
“Ready ka na matalo ulit?” sabi ni Marco, seryoso.
“Ready ka na ma-fall?” sagot ni Lila.
BOOM. Tahimik ang buong café… (well, sa imagination lang ni Marco)
Opening Move
Nag-start ang laro.
“Pawn to E4,” sabi ni Marco.
“Ha? English? Pwede Tagalog?” reklamo ni Lila.
“Sige… usog mo ‘yung maliit na tao sa harap.”
“Ahh, si frontliner pala.”
The Drama Builds
Habang tumatagal—
“Uy, bakit mo kinain ‘yung knight ko?!” sigaw ni Lila.
“Strategy.”
“Strategy mo mukha mo. May feelings ‘yon!”
“Chess ‘to, hindi teleserye.”
“Pareho lang ‘yon—may traydoran din.”
Plot Twist #1 😳
Biglang tumayo si Lila.
“Time out.”
“Bawal—”
“Hindi, emotional break.”
Lumapit siya kay Marco… yumuko… at bumulong:
“Alam mo… kahit matalo ako… panalo na ako.”
Napakunot noo si Marco. “Bakit?”
“Kasi… nakakausap kita.”
CRITICAL HIT.
Marco.exe has stopped working
Hindi na makapag-focus si Marco.
Nagkamali siya ng galaw.
“Wait… bakit napunta king ko doon?”
“Distracted ka kasi,” ngiti ni Lila.
“Hindi ako distracted.”
“Sure ka? Hindi dahil… sa’kin?”
Plot Twist #2 😂
Biglang may dumaan na waiter.
“Sir, miss, pang-ilang date niyo na po?”
“Hindi po kami—” sabay nilang sagot.
Nagtinginan.
Tahimik.
“...pang-ilan nga ba?” bulong ni Lila.
Endgame ♟️🔥
Habang papalapit ang dulo—
“Check,” sabi ni Marco.
“Relax ka lang,” sagot ni Lila.
“Check ulit.”
“Grabe ka, pressure.”
“Checkmate,” sabi ni Marco, confident.
Tahimik si Lila.
Ngumiti siya.
“Hindi pa tapos.”
“Ha?”
Bigla niyang tinulak ang isang pawn.
“Checkmate.”
Nanlaki mata ni Marco. “IMPOSSIBLE.”
“Possible… pag in love ka na.”
Final Blow ❤️😂
“Marco,” sabi ni Lila.
“Ano?”
“Sa chess… king ang pinakaimportante, diba?”
“Yeah.”
“Pero sa buhay ko…”
Lumapit siya, konti na lang pagitan nila.
“Hindi king ang gusto ko.”
“...ano?”
“Ikaw.”
Ending Scene 🎬
Tahimik ang café.
May nahulog na kutsara sa kabilang table.
Pero hindi na nila napansin.
Kasi sa wakas—
Si Marco… ngumiti na hindi na kayang itago.
“At sa tingin ko…” sabi niya,
“Hindi ako natalo.”
“Talaga?” tanong ni Lila.
“Hindi,” sabi niya.
“Kasi pareho tayong na-checkmate.”
🔥 Final Line:
“Sa chess, may nananalo at natatalo…
pero sa love—pareho kayong talo… kasi pareho kayong nahulog.”

19/03/2026

Title: “Midnight, With a Laugh Track”
In the quiet hour between 2:17 and 2:18 a.m.—the minute most often skipped by dreams—there existed a forgotten realm called The Interval.
It was not a place of nightmares, nor a place of comfort. It was where unfinished feelings went to rehearse.
And it was ruled—reluctantly—by a being named Silas Vale.
Silas was not Death, nor Dream, nor Desire… though he borrowed from all three. He was Custodian of Awkward Moments. Patron saint of things left unsaid. He wore a long black coat stitched with faint echoes of laughter—actual laughter, stolen from sitcoms across time. A strange choice, considering he hadn’t laughed in centuries.
Because Silas had once been in love.
And that had gone… poorly.
—
Enter Mara Dela Cruz.
Mara did not belong in The Interval.
She was alive. Very alive. Loud, clumsy, charmingly chaotic. The type of person who tripped over flat ground and apologized to furniture. She worked a late shift at a 24-hour convenience store and had the uncanny ability to fall asleep anywhere—on counters, buses, once inside a freezer (long story, mild frostbite, still funny).
One night, at exactly 2:17 a.m., Mara fell asleep mid-eye-roll while watching a terrible romcom on her phone.
And slipped.
Straight into The Interval.
—
She woke up backstage.
Literally.
Velvet curtains. Flickering stage lights. A sign overhead reading:
“TONIGHT’S FEATURE: Your Worst Regret (Now With Comic Timing!)”
“Okay,” Mara said, sitting up. “Either I’m dreaming, dead, or this is one of those weird experimental theaters.”
A slow clap echoed from the darkness.
Silas stepped forward.
Tall. Pale. Beautiful in a way that felt… inconvenient. Like you’d accidentally fall in love with him and ruin your life schedule.
“You are not scheduled to be here,” he said.
“Cool,” Mara replied. “Neither was my ex, but he still showed up.”
Silas blinked.
“…What?”
“Sorry,” she stood, brushing dust off her jeans. “Defense mechanism. I joke when I’m confused, scared, or mildly inconvenienced. So—where am I?”
Silas hesitated.
No one ever asked him that so… casually.
“You are in The Interval,” he said. “A realm between moments. Between decisions. Between what was said… and what should have been.”
Mara nodded slowly.
“…So basically emotional traffic?”
Silas stared.
Then, unexpectedly—
A faint sound escaped him.
A breath.
Almost… a laugh.
—
That was the problem.
Mara didn’t treat The Interval like a sacred metaphysical domain.
She treated it like a weird, slightly haunted improv theater.
She wandered through memory sets like they were sitcom stages:
— A looping first date where the guy kept saying the wrong name
— A breakup scene with dramatic thunder that refused to sync
— A confession frozen mid-sentence, waiting for courage
Mara gave them punchlines.
She fixed awkward silences with jokes. She added fake laugh tracks to tragic moments. She turned heartbreak into something… survivable.
Silas followed her.
At first, to monitor.
Then… to listen.
—
“You’re doing it wrong,” Silas said one night as Mara sat on the edge of a crumbling dream set.
“Doing what wrong?”
“Pain should not be softened. It must be felt fully. That is its purpose.”
Mara tilted her head.
“Yeah, but if you only feel pain, you get stuck there.”
She kicked her feet lightly.
“Comedy doesn’t erase it. It just… makes it breathable.”
Silas looked at her.
There was something in her voice.
Not denial.
Experience.
“…Who hurt you?” he asked.
Mara laughed.
“Oh wow. Straight to the tragic backstory, huh? What are you, a goth therapist?”
Silas frowned.
“I am not—”
“Relax,” she smiled softly. “Everyone gets hurt. That’s not special.”
She looked out at the shifting horizon of unfinished moments.
“What matters is… you keep going anyway.”
Silas didn’t respond.
Because he hadn’t.
—
Days—or what passed for days—went on.
Mara couldn’t leave.
Every time she tried to wake up, she slipped back into The Interval.
Silas began to suspect the truth.
She wasn’t lost.
She was… held.
By something unresolved.
—
He found it eventually.
Her scene.
A small one.
Quiet.
No dramatic thunder. No grand heartbreak.
Just a hospital room.
A phone in her hand.
A message unsent:
“I love you. I should’ve said it sooner.”
Silas stood in silence.
Mara appeared behind him.
“Oh,” she said lightly. “Yeah. That one.”
“You never sent it.”
“Timing sucked.”
“They died.”
“Yeah.”
Silence.
Then Mara shrugged.
“I was gonna tell them. Just… not yet.”
Silas turned to her.
“You are trapped here because of this moment.”
“I figured.”
“Then why do you laugh?”
Mara looked at him.
Really looked.
“Because if I don’t… I’ll stay here forever.”
—
Something in Silas broke.
Or maybe… healed.
He had spent centuries preserving pain in perfect stillness.
But Mara…
Mara let it move.
Even if it moved through tears and bad jokes and awkward timing.
—
“I can fix it,” Silas said suddenly.
Mara blinked.
“What?”
“I can return you to the moment. Let you send the message. Change the outcome.”
Mara froze.
Hope flickered.
Dangerous, fragile hope.
“…At a cost, I’m guessing?”
Silas nodded.
“You would forget this place. Forget me.”
Silence.
Mara exhaled slowly.
“Of course. Classic cosmic terms and conditions.”
Silas stepped closer.
“Or…”
He hesitated.
“I can let you go. As you are. You will wake up. You will remember. But the moment remains unchanged.”
Mara looked at him.
Then smiled, gently.
“You’re asking me to choose between fixing the past… or keeping the truth.”
“Yes.”
“…Wow,” she laughed softly. “You really are bad at romcoms.”
Silas frowned.
“I am not—”
“I’ll keep the truth.”
Silas stilled.
“No reset. No rewrite. Just… me, knowing I loved them.”
Her smile wavered—but held.
“That’s enough.”
—
Something shifted in The Interval.
The stage lights dimmed.
The unfinished scenes began to move again.
For the first time in centuries…
The realm let someone go.
—
Mara stepped toward the exit—a doorway made of soft morning light.
Then paused.
Looked back.
“Hey, Silas?”
“Yes.”
“You should try laughing more.”
Silas said nothing.
She grinned.
“Start small. Maybe don’t open with dead people.”
And then—
She was gone.
—
Silas stood alone.
The Interval quieter than ever.
But not empty.
He walked slowly to the stage.
Sat where Mara used to.
And whispered, awkwardly:
“…Emotional traffic.”
A pause.
Then—
A real laugh.
Soft.
Broken.
Alive.
—
And somewhere, in the waking world, Mara Dela Cruz woke up smiling through tears.
Her phone still in her hand.
The message still unsent.
But her heart…
finally on time.
—
End.

18/03/2026

The apartment was cheap.
That should’ve been my first warning.
“Only 3,000? In this area?” I muttered, staring at the listing.
Too good to be true.
But I was broke.
So… I signed.
The first night was normal.
Second night—still fine.
Third night?
That’s when things got weird.
I woke up at exactly 3:07 AM.
No reason. Just—awake.
The fan stopped spinning.
The air felt… colder.
And then—
knock… knock… knock…
From inside my closet.
I sat up slowly.
“Okay,” I whispered to myself. “This is how people die in horror movies.”
The knocking stopped.
Silence.
Then—
“Excuse me?”
I froze.
That voice?
Soft. Annoyed. Definitely not mine.
The closet door creaked open by itself.
And there you were.
Not floating.
Not scary.
Just… standing there.
In pajamas.
Looking irritated.
“You moved my stuff,” you said, arms crossed.
I blinked.
“…I’m sorry, WHAT?”
“My clothes were in there,” you pointed to the closet. “Now they smell like you.”
“THIS IS MY APARTMENT!”
You scoffed. “I’ve been here longer.”
Silence.
“…Are you a ghost?” I asked carefully.
You tilted your head. “Are you slow?”
That was how I met my ghost roommate.
Your name was Mina.
You died two years ago.
And apparently, you refused to leave.
“Why would I?” you said. “Rent is free.”
Living with a ghost was…
complicated.
You’d turn off the lights when I was gaming.
“Go to sleep,” you’d nag.
“I’m not five!”
“You look five when you cry over losing.”
“I DO NOT CRY!”
“You sniff dramatically,” you mocked.
You also stole my food.
Which made zero sense.
“You can’t even eat!” I complained.
“I eat emotionally,” you said, hugging my snacks.
But the worst part?
You followed me everywhere.
Work.
Bathroom.
Even dates.
One time, I brought a girl home.
Big mistake.
“She’s not even that pretty,” you whispered loudly.
“I CAN HEAR YOU,” I hissed.
“Good. Break up with her.”
“We’re not even together!”
“Even worse. No chemistry.”
The girl left ten minutes later.
You looked proud.
“Are you trying to ruin my life?” I snapped.
You paused.
Then looked away.
“…No.”
That was the first time you sounded… different.
Things changed after that.
You stopped teasing as much.
Started staying quiet.
Watching me more than bothering me.
One night, I found you sitting by the window, staring outside.
“You okay?” I asked.
You didn’t answer right away.
Then—
“Do you think ghosts can fall in love?”
I laughed nervously.
“That’s a weird question.”
“Just answer.”
I hesitated.
Then said softly—
“I think… they already did. That’s why they stay.”
You turned to me slowly.
Eyes unreadable.
“Then that’s stupid,” you said.
But your voice…
was shaking.
Days later—
I came home to an empty apartment.
No lights flickering.
No sarcastic comments.
No you.
“Mina?” I called.
Nothing.
On the table—
A small note.
“I think it’s time for me to leave.”
My chest tightened.
“No,” I muttered. “No, no, no—this is not funny.”
The air turned cold again.
The clock hit 3:07 AM.
And suddenly—
You were there.
But different.
Fading.
“Hey,” you said softly.
No teasing.
No attitude.
Just… you.
“You’re leaving?” I asked.
You nodded.
“Looks like my time’s up.”
I stepped closer.
“Then stay.”
You smiled sadly.
“I don’t get a choice this time.”
Silence filled the room.
Heavy.
Painful.
“Hey,” you said again, reaching out—
Your hand passed through mine.
That hurt more than anything.
“Don’t bring girls here anymore,” you added weakly.
I let out a broken laugh.
“Why? You gonna haunt me?”
You smiled.
“…I wish I could.”
Your form flickered.
Fading more.
“Wait,” I said quickly. “You asked me something before.”
You looked at me.
“About ghosts falling in love.”
I swallowed.
“I think they do,” I said.
“…And I think I did too.”
You froze.
Eyes wide.
For the first time since I met you—
You looked completely speechless.
Then—
You smiled.
Soft.
Real.
“Took you long enough,” you whispered.
And just like that—
You disappeared.
The clock stopped.
The air warmed.
The apartment felt…
empty.
But sometimes—
At exactly 3:07 AM—
The lights flicker.
And I swear…
I hear your voice.
“Don’t lose again, idiot.”
I stopped sleeping properly after you left.
Not because I was scared.
But because I kept hoping.
Every night—
I’d wake up at 3:07 AM.
Sit there.
Wait.
Listen.
Nothing.
Until one night—
knock… knock… knock…
I shot up so fast I almost fell off the bed.
“No way…” I whispered.
The closet door slowly creaked open again.
Same as before.
Same sound.
Same cold air.
“…Mina?” I called.
Silence.
Then—
“Wow.”
A voice.
Familiar.
Annoyed.
“You got uglier.”
I froze.
“…What?”
And then—
You stepped out.
Not transparent.
Not glowing.
Not ghost-like at all.
Just…
Alive.
I stared at you.
“You’re… solid.”
You looked down at yourself, flexing your fingers.
“…Oh,” you said casually. “That’s new.”
“YOU’RE HUMAN?!” I yelled.
“Why are you shouting?” you snapped. “I just got back.”
I grabbed your arm.
Warm.
Real.
Not fading.
“You died.”
You blinked.
“Rude. I was dead.”
“…What changed?”
You shrugged.
“No idea.”
We both stood there.
Processing.
Then you looked around the apartment.
“Wow. You didn’t clean.”
“I WAS DEPRESSED.”
“Still no excuse.”
I laughed.
Actually laughed.
For the first time in weeks.
“You disappeared,” I said, quieter now.
You looked at me.
“I didn’t want to.”
Silence again.
But softer this time.
“Then why did you?” I asked.
You hesitated.
Then walked past me, sitting on the bed like you used to.
“I remembered something,” you said.
“What?”
You looked down at your hands.
“My death.”
My chest tightened.
“I wasn’t ready,” you continued. “I had regrets. Things I didn’t say.”
You glanced up at me.
“…People I didn’t leave properly.”
I swallowed.
“Am I… one of those people?”
You didn’t answer.
You stood up instead.
Walked closer.
“Say it again.”
“What?”
“What you said before I left.”
My heart started pounding.
“You heard that?”
You smirked slightly.
“I’m a ghost. Of course I did.”
I exhaled slowly.
Then stepped closer too.
“I said… I think ghosts fall in love.”
You watched me carefully.
“And I said…” I continued, voice softer now,
“…I think I did too.”
This time—
You didn’t disappear.
You just stood there.
Eyes locked with mine.
“…Good,” you said quietly.
And then—
You hit my arm.
“Ow—WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!”
“That’s for taking forever,” you said. “Do you know how dramatic you were while I was gone?”
“I WAS HEARTBROKEN!”
“You looked stupid.”
“I WAS IN PAIN!”
You laughed.
Bright.
Alive.
God, I missed that.
Then suddenly—
The lights flickered.
Both of us froze.
“…That’s not me,” you said.
The room got cold again.
Colder than before.
From the corner—
Something moved.
A shadow.
Tall.
Distorted.
“Uh…” I said slowly. “You said you were the only ghost here.”
“I was.”
The shadow twitched.
Then—
knock… knock… knock…
But this time—
It wasn’t from the closet.
It was from the door.
You grabbed my arm.
“…I think,” you whispered,
“…something followed me back.”
I stared at the door.
Then at you.
“You just had to come with extra problems, huh?”
You rolled your eyes.
“Oh please. You love me.”
The knocking got louder.
I sighed.
“…Yeah,” I admitted.
“Unfortunately.”
You smirked.
Then squeezed my hand.
“Good,” you said.
“Because if we’re dealing with another ghost…”
You glanced at the door.
Grinning now.
“…you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
BANG.
The door shook.
And this time—
We faced it together.
The knocking didn’t stop.
It got worse.
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
The door shook like something on the other side was done waiting.
You tightened your grip on my hand.
“…Okay,” you whispered. “New plan.”
“YOU have a plan?!” I whispered back.
“Of course. I used to be dead. I have experience.”
“That’s not reassuring!”
CRACK.
A thin line split across the door.
Something black… seeped through.
Like smoke.
Like it was alive.
“Yeah,” you said slowly.
“…that’s definitely not normal.”
The lights exploded.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Then—
A voice.
Low.
Distorted.
“…you took… what’s mine…”
I felt your hand tremble.
Just a little.
“You know it?” I asked.
You didn’t answer.
That scared me more than the ghost.
The shadow stretched across the wall—twisting, growing, forming something almost human… but wrong.
Too long.
Too broken.
“…Mina,” it growled.
I stepped in front of you instinctively.
“Back off,” I said, even though my voice betrayed me.
“Wow,” you whispered behind me.
“You’re being brave. I’m impressed.”
“I am terrified,” I hissed.
“Same.”
The shadow lunged.
Everything happened fast.
Cold air.
Falling objects.
That thing reaching—
You pulled me down just in time.
“Move!” you shouted.
We hit the floor.
The wall behind us cracked.
“Okay!” I yelled. “Plan?! NOW WOULD BE GREAT!”
You grabbed my face suddenly.
Close.
Too close.
“Listen,” you said, serious now. “That thing—”
You swallowed.
“…it’s the reason I died.”
My mind went blank.
“What?”
“I wasn’t supposed to come back,” you continued quickly.
“And it doesn’t like that I did.”
The shadow screamed.
The room shook.
“So what do we do?!” I asked.
You hesitated.
And I knew—
I knew I wouldn’t like your answer.
“I have to go back,” you said.
“No.”
Immediate.
“That’s how this works,” you insisted. “If I stay, it stays.”
“I don’t care!”
You softened.
Of all times—you softened.
“I do,” you said quietly.
The shadow rushed toward us again.
Closer this time.
Stronger.
“You said you loved me,” you whispered.
My chest tightened.
“Yeah.”
“Then trust me.”
I shook my head.
“No. Last time you said that, you disappeared.”
You smiled sadly.
“…And I came back.”
The room cracked again.
Time was running out.
“Hey,” you said, touching my cheek.
Warm.
Real.
“I don’t regret it,” you added.
“…Regret what?”
“Falling for you.”
That broke me.
“Then don’t leave,” I said.
Voice barely holding together.
For a second—
You looked like you might stay.
But then—
You stepped back.
“I have to finish this,” you said.
The shadow lunged again—
But this time—
You ran toward it.
“Mina!” I shouted.
You didn’t look back.
Light burst across the room.
Blinding.
Violent.
The shadow screamed.
You screamed.
And then—
Silence.
Everything stopped.
The lights came back.
The air warmed.
The room…
was normal again.
Except—
You were gone.
Again.
I stood there.
Not moving.
Not breathing.
“…You said you’d stay,” I whispered.
Nothing answered.
Days passed.
No knocking.
No shadows.
No you.
I hated how familiar that felt.
Until—
One morning—
I woke up late.
Sunlight pouring through the window.
And something felt…
different.
“Finally awake?”
I froze.
Slowly—
I turned.
And there you were.
Standing in the kitchen.
Holding my food.
“…You’re eating again,” I said, stunned.
You grinned.
“Of course. I’m alive, remember?”
I stared.
Processing.
“No flickering?” I asked.
You shook your head.
“No disappearing.”
“…No ghosts?”
You shrugged.
“Hopefully.”
Silence.
Then—
I walked over.
Slow.
Careful.
And pulled you into a hug.
This time—
You didn’t fade.
You hugged me back.
Tighter.
“See?” you mumbled into my shoulder.
“I told you I’d come back.”
I exhaled.
Finally.
“…You’re not allowed to leave again,” I said.
You pulled back, smirking.
“Relax. You’re stuck with me now.”
“…That sounds like a threat.”
“It is.”
I laughed.
You smiled.
And for once—
No shadows followed.
Just you.
“Hey,” you said suddenly.
“What?”
“You still love me?”
I rolled my eyes.
“…Unfortunately.”
You grinned.
“Good,” you said.
Then stole my food again.
“HEY—”
Some things…
never change.
THE END 👻💖