When the awkward one looks at the window as they're moving in, she's sure he can see her and, in a moment of panic, she hides. But it's stupid, because she's a ghost, and obvious people can't see her. He was just looking at the curtains, that's all. And they're going to leave anyway, him and his friend, because it's her house and she doesn't accept someone else between those walls.
Still, she ends stalking them as much as she haunts them.
There's something so... alive about them, not like all those couples before them, buried in their little monotony. They laugh and they shout and they even wrestle on the couch sometimes, and she finds herself entertained by the high-pitched noises one of them can make when he's offended. Their schedules are uneven, working in a hospital and such, but she quickly learns when they're home for dinner or not, and she peeks at them by the window between the kitchen and the living room.
It doesn't stop her from trying to scare them, though, and she moves objects at night, makes noises when they're in the bathroom, hides things. The Irish one gets all offended when she steals his fingerless gloves, as if it was the most precious thing in the world she had taken away from him, and he broods for the rest of the day when he can find them. She feels bad and puts them back where she found them.
It's easiest with the lanky one, because he's easily scared and, well, there's still that thing about the way he screams. She has fun with him, moving curtains at night and flickering the lights when he's in the kitchen and making small breathless noises in his back. He's terrified. Yet they aren't planning to leave any time soon.
There's one morning in particular, and it's only the handsome Irishman and her. He's in the kitchen, eating his breakfast sleepily, just toasts and tea, and she watches him from the staircase. When she's sure he's not watching – as if he could see her anyway – she moves and hides behind the wall, peeking at him from time to time. She likes that, watching a man eating breakfast, and she misses those moments spent with Owen. The guy has no clue she's here, and she stares at him for way too long, and only then does she realises she had a problem. She cares about him – them – too much, even if she's dead and they're alive, and it's becoming a problem. She can't get attached to people, especially when they can't see her.
They have to go.
Still she keeps looking at him, and he finally raises his head while sipping his tea. It makes her panic and she apparates – for a lack of a better word – in another room. Later that day, she finds red paint and writes on the wall. It should work.
But they stumble in her room, umbrella and croquet bat as weapons, and she's not crazy, they can really see her. She screams at them, and the weird one screams even higher, and the Irish one just stares at her. It's so weird yet so thrilling and she doesn't know what to think.
"She's a ghost."
"Your point being?"
He stares at her like she stared at him in the morning, and a grin grows on his lips, as if it was the funniest thing in the world. The other one is still panicking when he asks "Did you rent-a-ghost on me this morning?"
She quickly accepts the fact she doesn't want them to leave.