Chapter 3: Living with a Ghost (And Possibly Flirting with One?)
Ayaan was starting to regret all his life choices.
Not because he had moved into a haunted house—he had already made peace with that. Not because the ghost had no name—mystery was part of the charm.
No, his real problem was that the ghost was getting comfortable.
And way too familiar.
Take this morning, for example.
Ayaan had just woken up, stretching lazily in bed, when—
"Good morning."
A deep, smooth voice murmured right next to his ear.
Ayaan yelped and nearly fell off the bed. "WHY ARE YOU IN MY BED?!"
The ghost sat cross-legged at the foot of the mattress, looking far too amused. "I was bored."
Ayaan ran a hand down his face. "You’re a ghost. Don’t you have ghostly things to do? Like… floating around menacingly? Haunting mirrors? Scaring intruders?"
The ghost tilted his head. "I like this better."
Ayaan squinted. "You mean…annoying me?"
The ghost smirked. "Exactly."
Ayaan groaned. "I should’ve moved into an apartment."
The Rules of Living with a Ghost (That He Completely Ignores)
After that, Ayaan decided some ground rules were necessary.
No appearing in my bedroom unannounced.
(This rule was broken within two hours.)
No touching my stuff.
(His coffee mug mysteriously hovered toward him every morning.)
No watching me sleep.
(Ghost’s response: “But you look peaceful.”)
No stealing my food.
(Ghost doesn’t eat, but somehow, his snacks still disappeared.)
No unnecessary touching.
(Ghost started leaning against him every time he sat on the couch.)
Ayaan had no idea how he ended up in this situation. Wasn’t a haunted house supposed to be scary? Why did it feel like he was dealing with an overly attached ghost roommate instead?
A New Discovery: The Ghost Has a Name?
A few nights later, something strange happened.
Ayaan was in the study, flipping through old books he had found in the attic, when a piece of paper slipped out of one of them.
It was an old, faded letter.
Curious, he unfolded it.
"…I don’t know how much longer I can stay here. The whispers are getting louder. They say his name was…"
The rest of the text was too smudged to read. But Ayaan’s fingers tightened around the paper.
"His name?"
He looked up. The ghost stood by the window, staring out at the night sky, his face unreadable.
"Hey," Ayaan called. "I think I found something about you."
The ghost turned, his dark eyes locking onto the letter in Ayaan’s hand.
For the first time, there was something in his expression that almost looked like fear.
Ayaan felt a strange chill run down his spine.
What was he about to uncover?
And why did it feel like the ghost didn’t want him to?
—
End of Chapter 3
Should I continue with Chapter 4?
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