╰ ♡ andrew

  ^{it takes a while for andrew to reply, not expecting conversation to continue  (  if he were in this situation ?  he more than likely would have bolted - though he’s glad jonathan hasn’t  ) . when he does, jittery atoms are slowly materializing into something visible to the human eye but he scoots out of the way so the light through the door doesn’t hit him.}

             ^{❝ y-yeah - yeah… um… n-not th-th-this room !  an’ I - I don’t THINK… think I n-need h-help,
                   I - I haven’t talk…talked to s-someone in a… a - a long time. no-no one…
                                                                               no one m-moved in b-before - before you. ❞}

  ^{the doorknob rattles & twists until andrew gets the hang of it and peeks out at jonathan, just a bit, with all the worry in the world  — for him, the way he reacted, but also at the idea that he read in books as a kid how people can do all sorts of things to rid spirits from their homes, if they know enough  ;  and he’s not so sure where he’d end up if that happened.}

                                   ^{❝ do… d-do you… see a - a lot of ghosts ? ❞}

^{Jonathan doesn’t mind the stutter if anything it makes the ghost seem even more human to him. If he continues thinking about it like that, he knows he’ll calm down enough that, hopefully, he won’t have another onslaught of forced shaking. He’s always hated that as if the pain and flashes of awful things weren’t bad enough.}

^{At the rattle of a doorknob, Jonathan is quick to look back at the closet. He barely sees what looks like bright blue eyes ( and that golden hair ) but it’s enough. He felt a little less insane when he could see the ghosts.}

                ^{❝ — you’ve been here all alone ?  I don’t really like to be alone. ❞}

^{Because when he is he has to experience the cold shivers and hear the voices and the not-so-nice touches from his FRIENDS on the other side all by himself. His mind has been tricking him for years, telling him that the ghosts are there when they really aren’t. He’d be cowering in a corner, hearing the soft cooing of one of them but right before they’d attack his mom would knock on the door and it would all just END.}

^{After that he’d just have to wait for the real ones ; the waiting was the worst part.}

            ^{❝ yeah — they’re everywhere. They usually don’t like me, but you seem… calmer. ❞}

^{Thank you for that.}