TITLE: A Simple Ghost(Love) Story
GENRE: Romance/humor, a teeny bit of angst
PAIRING(S): some Prussia/Hungary
RATING: PG-13, for potty mouths
WARNINGS: Possible necrophilia(not really, unless you're a prude ^_~), magical creatures, human names, fluff, lots of it
SUMMARY: Just the same old story; boy meets ghost, boy falls for ghost, the rest is simple. No matter what Alfred thinks.
NOTES: Done for the Secret Santa at usxuk community on Livejournal. A thousand thanks to the wonderful, loverly absolute_power who beta'ed this monstrosity for me and did it with love! A further thanks to the band The Fray whose wonderful song "Where the Story Ends" was a heavy inspiration to this story and you can spot it's influence in the titles of the parts. Hope you all enjoy, especially you kupodesu!

A Simple Ghost Story

Part Two: We're Close and Then We Run

"So, you're the comic book artist for this series? As in the creator?"

"Yeah, and…? You look surprised."

"Well, when you spoke of your difficulties of late I'd assumed you were speaking of getting the story right so you could get published, not that you already had a thriving series published, adored at your age, and had a bit of writer's block. It's a bit of a surprise to see you've already accomplished all this when you're in, what, your early twenties?"

"Twenty-two. And thanks, I think. I had some help in getting it going. My publisher, Kiku, he knows this guy and he helped in getting the first draft to the right people. How do you even know what a comic book is anyway? You've been dead for over a hundred years!"

"Were you not paying attention when the neighbor told you this happens to be one of the most active sights for paranormal and mystic activity in all of England? For the past twenty years I've been forced to share my home with sloppy men who do nothing but jump at every noise they make but claim that I make and read nothing but those comic books. I believe the term you Americans like to use to describe them is 'nerd.'"

Alfred smiled and gave a laugh at the expression that passed over Arthur's face as he flipped the page of his most recent comic book so Arthur could read; the ghost missed reading and being a ghost, he wasn't exactly able to hold onto objects. Arthur was reading the latest battle between Captain Liberty and General Winter with a fervor that Alfred found endearing and awesome, though he claimed that it was all a load of rubbish whenever Alfred teased him about liking it. Alfred was planning on picking up a few actual books the next time he visited the village; even though they were way more boring than his comic books he figured that Arthur would appreciate the gesture.

It had been close to two months since Alfred had learned of Arthur's existence and they had started their odd friendship, and they had been the most laid-back and enjoyable months Alfred could remember having in a long time. Arthur was easily irritable, cross most of the time, and had a perverse sense of humor (mainly because it involved making Alfred trip or walk into doors), but he was also caring and a good listener. Alfred couldn't remember unloading on anyone all the stress and worries he had about his life, the comic, and everything else as much as he had on Arthur in the past few weeks. And he felt better for it; he felt freer and stronger than before after airing out all the crap he'd been stressing over and not being told he was overreacting or that he just needed to relax in response.

Arthur didn't give him any bullshit answers about how he'd get back his 'mojo' if he just relaxed or that he was just going through a slump and he'd get out of it eventually if he was just patient. No, he told him to stop being a "lazy berk" and "to work himself out of whatever slump he got himself into instead of whining about it all bloody day," which was actually way more effective than anything else he'd been told. He'd started sketching a few days ago and even though he still wasn't sure where he wanted to go with the new storyline, he was much happier with the drawings he was producing. It might also have been because Arthur liked to hover over him and watch him draw and he didn't want the ghost to think badly of his abilities.

Alfred liked having him there though. Alfred liked having Arthur around in general. It was weird to think that he'd wanted to have him exorcised Ghostbusters style when he first arrived, and it made him oddly sad to think about how he'd disappear when Alfred figured out what Arthur's 'unfinished business' was.

Arthur didn't say it in so many words how unhappy he was with being a ghost, but Alfred could imagine he was and that'd he'd be happier if he could actually 'move on' or something. He always had this wistful kind of look on his face when Alfred caught him watching him, almost like he was jealous of Alfred for something as simple as making a sandwich or even picking up the trash. It would make him happy, to be able to find peace and stuff, even if it kind of sucked for Alfred that it meant he'd lose his friend. But still, he was a hero just like Captain Liberty, and being a hero meant you had to sacrifice sometimes for the greater good.

The only problem was Alfred wasn't quite sure how to broach to Arthur the question of exactly what his unfinished business was, as the ghost had been very quiet regarding anything to do with his life or death. Oh, he went on and on about the different things he'd seen or learned in his afterlife, being cooped up as he was in the manor, but he was very strict in keeping most of the conversation on Alfred. It was probably normal, Alfred guessed. Talking about your life was probably pretty traumatic for a ghost, probably even more so talking about how he died. Still, if he was going to help Artie, he was going to need to know that stuff; the trick was getting the ghost to talk about it without feeling pressured.

Alfred had spent a lot of time on his grandparents' farm as a kid though, and if he could calm down an angry, bucking stallion with some sugar cubes, he could figure out how to handle his temperamental ghost no problem.

"Can you turn the page?"

Alfred snapped out of his musings and gave Arthur a grin as he turned the page of the comic book so Arthur could read how Captain Liberty used his super strength to put up and hold blockades to protect the city from a huge avalanche General Winter had sent sweeping down. Arthur was doing his half-floating, half-sitting thing on a chair beside Alfred in the kitchen, hovering close to Alfred's shoulder, so close that if Arthur were solid and alive Alfred could probably feel his breath on his neck. The thought was kind of nice, being able to feel Arthur so close to him—Alfred frowned at the odd thought before he shook his head and focused back on Arthur.

"What is the little blob that follows the Captain about? I thought it was a thought bubble at first but it has eyes here."

Alfred looked to where Arthur pointed with a transparent finger and grinned wider. "That's Mochimerica, Captain Liberty's pint-size, shape-shifting helper. The Captain rescued him from an underground laboratory doing illegal experiments to try and topple the governor with an army of indestructible creatures a few issues back. Mochimerica was so grateful towards the Captain for rescuing it from the evil scientists who created it but wouldn't let it eat burgers, a food it craved more than anything, so it decided to help the Captain in fighting crime!"

Arthur raised a large eyebrow at Alfred. "But it's a blob. A blob that likes to eat hamburgers. How much help can it possibly be?"

"A lot of help, duh! Look here!" Alfred turned the page and pointed to how Mochimerica had morphed around the Captain's feet and helped to steady him. "It's helping the Captain not lose his balance or footing as he stops the avalanche by forming a kind of glue for his feet! Captain Liberty is strong, but even he can't stop a mountain of snow all by himself!"

"Why does it have that odd horn atop its head?"

"That's not a horn, that's Mochimerica's hair!"

Arthur gave a soft chuckle as Alfred turned the page, and Alfred felt a warm tickle in his stomach at how alive he looked when he laughed. Arthur passed a glance over Alfred before looking at the Captain and Mochimerica, a smirk settling over his laugh as he pointed at the heroes. "You know, I can't help but notice how similar you and Captain Liberty look. You both have blue eyes, you both are blond, and you both have that errant hair that sticks out from your head. And you certainly share Mochimerica's disgusting food preferences."

"You're one to talk about yucky foods; you've got the word 'blood' alongside 'pudding' you know. And—well, so what if he's a little like me? I wanted to make him awesome, and as I'm the most awesome guy I know, it only seemed natural!"

"Of course it did." Arthur was still smirking and chuckling a bit under his non-existent breath, his tone blatantly sarcastic but holding warmth in it still. He propped his chin up on his hand and continued to read Alfred's comic with a look of contentment- which Alfred had discovered was rare for the blustery ghost- crossing over his face as they read together. Alfred took a deep breath as they reached the end of the comic, intent on trying to ask Arthur a personal question while he was distracted, but the ghost let out surprised breath as they got to General Winter's bargain for Lucy Mae's safety and whirled his unusually bright green eyes on him.

"He really loses his powers? It's not a trick or anything, but he actually loses them?"

"Uh, yeah. That's the problem, remember? He lost his powers and now I need to find a way to give them back that doesn't involve a vat of nuclear waste. I didn't think it'd be hard when I first decided to take away his powers but now—I don't know. I can't figure out a way that'll make the fans happy but is still awesome and unique and makes sense."

"I- I suppose I just assumed that he was bluffing when you mentioned that. You'd gone on about how much the Captain loved defending the city, so I'd assumed that while he wanted to protect Lucy Mae, he would've just bluffed losing his powers and you were trying to figure out a method for him to fool General Winter."

"Nah, I wanted him to really lose them—he really loves her, you know. And he'd do anything to save her, even giving up something he loves. Kinda corny I guess." Alfred chuckled nervously as he said the words, knowing it was more than a little corny to show the romance in his comic that obviously, but that had been what he wanted. He wanted to show just how much the Captain loved Lucy Mae and what loving someone so much meant. His mom called him a romantic; he guessed he was, a little bit. He watched Arthur's expression, waiting for some kind of snort or comment on how stupid that was, but he did neither.

Arthur went silent as he stared at the last panel of the comic, a sad, faraway look entering his eyes when Lucy Mae was released and she wrapped her arms around the broken Captain on the dirty floor. It was more of an emotional response than Alfred was expecting and he felt a pit grow in his stomach, wishing he could do something to comfort that sad look in Arthur's eyes, but his main mode of comfort involved hugs and shoulder claps, and he couldn't do any of that with Arthur. He closed the comic and set it aside, a crease forming between his eyes as he watched Arthur stare into nothing.

"Hey, Arthur, you okay?"

Arthur blinked rapidly and jerked his head up quickly, staring into Alfred's face with an unreadable expression before he frowned and floated into a standing position. "Fine. Why wouldn't I be? It's nothing but a silly comic, certainly not anything to get upset over. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"Wait, don't g—!" Alfred started, but with that, Arthur was gone. Alfred sighed and stood up from the table, gathering up the comic books he'd been reading with Arthur all that afternoon, frowning sadly and kicking himself for even mentioning anything. Arthur was so bipolar, one minute sad and the next minute all in a huff, so of course he'd just get all stuffy at Alfred's concern. He put the comics back in his bag, pausing on the cover of the last one and wondering why Arthur had gotten so upset at the Captain losing his powers, why he'd gotten upset because he'd done it for love. Alfred thought it had been a really cool idea that showed how heroic and awesome Captain Liberty was, even if it was a little corny.

Shrugging, he decided it wouldn't hurt to start making something for dinner; he'd miraculously found some frozen hamburgers at one of the markets in the village and had bought 6 boxes or so. A hamburger would be the perfect way to help bump him out of the melancholy mood Arthur's abrupt departure had brought on.

"But he's been all mopey for days now! I mean, I know he's a ghost and gets upset over little stuff all the time, but isn't five days a little excessive to stomp around the house, invisibly you know, and slam doors, windows, and rugs into my face?"

Elizaveta shook her head and gave Alfred a sympathetic smile as she served up tea and a tray of cookies. Her husband, Gilbert, was seated on the sofa across from them but he was munching on a bag of chips, called crisps in England which confused Alfred because chips were French fries here and whenever he asked for where the chips were he got odd looks. He was flipping through one of Alfred's comics as he munched; Gilbert was kind of obnoxious and rude but he liked Alfred's comics, so he wasn't a complete asshole. Still, Alfred wasn't sure how Elizaveta put up with him; he seemed to frustrate her constantly and she'd already hit him three times and threatened him twice with a frying pan since he'd been there. Oh well, if it worked for them, it worked for them—Alfred was sure glad he wasn't the one married to Gilbert though.

"Are you surprised? I wouldn't be shocked to find out that damn ghost has a huge ghost-stick up his ass," Gilbert quipped. He didn't look up from his comic but seemed to notice the dirty look Elizaveta shot him because he smirked and blew a sideways kiss to her. "So he's in more of a snit than usual. He's a ghost, what do you expect?"

"There's a difference between a ghost who's always mopey being mopey and a ghost who was in a fine mood before and is now depressed and miserable, Gilbert!" Elizaveta glared at her husband, who ignored her entirely, before she gave Alfred an apologetic look and offered him more cookies. "I'm so sorry about him, Alfred. He's an uncouth, no good, dirty idiot and we just have to ignore him."

"I'm awesome and you know it."

"If you don't directly acknowledge him, he'll eventually get infuriated and leave." Alfred grinned with Elizaveta as Gilbert huffed and flipped the comic book page with a bit more force than usual. "But back to your problem with Arthur. You know it's so nice to actually be able to put a name to the face, so to speak! It's still amazing to think that you can actually see him!"

"I'm just happy you don't think I'm crazy."

"Oh pish posh, nothing crazy about believing in or seeing ghosts! I told you, that manor is one of the most renowned spots of paranormal and mystic activity in all England!"

Alfred grimaced around a cookie. "Oh Liz, please don't tell me you believe in fairies and gnomes and unicorns too! Arthur won't shut up about them and how they live in that little forest by the house."

"You have been bunking with a ghost and speaking with him on a daily basis, yet you don't believe in magical creatures?" Elizaveta shook her head disapprovingly as she sipped her tea. "I imagine Arthur doesn't take to kindly to that."

"He shut a window on my hand."

Elizaveta nodded sagely. "That certainly sounds like him. But anyway, back to your 'problem.' The key to getting someone out of a depression is to talk them out of it! Gentle and compassionate communication is the key—"

"Yeah right," Gilbert muttered. He gave a derisive snort at the offended look his wife directed towards him before he set down Alfred's comic and swung his legs off the couch and back on the floor. "Look, maybe 'soft talk' stuff out works for girls all right, but not on guys. If you really want to know what's wrong with your ghost, I suggest you make him tell you what's wrong and quit being a loser about it. He'll yell, maybe cry, and then everything will come pouring out and go back to normal in your little freak-show house."

"I'm serious, Gilly, I'll get the frying pan!"

"And on that lovely note, thanks for the read, Al, hope you get more of it out soon." Gilbert gave Alfred a smirk as he dropped the comic in his lap and gave his wife a quick kiss on the cheek before heading out. Elizaveta still looked annoyed, but she had a slight flush to her skin as she turned back to face Alfred.

"Oh, that man…sometimes I don't know whether I want to snog him or hit him senseless!"

Alfred wasn't quite sure how to respond so he settled for giving a quick grin of agreement. "Do you think he's right? I mean, Arthur says he enjoyed knitting and cooking and stuff, but he's not very girly."

"Maybe. Can I see that page of the comic he got upset over?"

Alfred flipped the comic open to the last page and handed it over, tapping his fingers absently on the armrest while Elizaveta studied the last page intently; when she was done and looking back up, she had a starry look in her eyes that made Alfred chuckle. She handed the comic back over and sighed, smiling wide as she cradled her chin in her hands.

"Oh, that was so romantic!"

"Thanks! I mean, didn't want it to get too sappy or whatever, but happy you liked it!"

"And this is what upset Arthur?"

"Yeah. He got all weird and disappeared after reading this part."

"Did you say anything to him?"

"What, on the ending? I guess—I just said I wanted to show the fans how much Captain Liberty loves Lucy Mae and that he'd sacrifice anything to keep her safe."

Elizaveta frowned for a moment before she clapped her hands and gave a little cry of success. "Oh, it's so simple! He was upset because he's probably never been in love! You said he was young, right? Maybe his unfinished business is that he's never been in love and he can't move on until he can resolve his issues with that. Or fall in love himself!"

Alfred frowned and thought it over. That certainly did make sense, but Alfred wasn't sure how exactly he could be expected to help Arthur move on if that was really what was holding him back. Granted, Elizaveta's response was kind of ridiculous and probably leaning more towards her romantic inclinations, but Alfred thought she hit the nail on the head with pegging why Arthur got upset with the comic. Never been in love… that sure sounded like unfinished business to him. And Arthur was pretty young for a ghost; it must've sucked dying so young and never having experienced the rush of being in love. Not that Alfred could really speak for what the 'rush' felt like; he'd been with people and thought he might have really liked a few of them, but that was probably it. If you loved someone, you'd know, and Alfred had never known for sure.

Still, there was a big problem that reared its ugly head in Alfred's mind as Elizaveta gushed about how this had to be the reason and citing all the evidence she could come up with. If never being in love was the unfinished business, and either dealing with that or falling in love was really how to help Arthur move on…

How was Alfred supposed to help with that?

Alfred stayed with Elizaveta and Gilbert for dinner, because Elizaveta made awesome food and always had Alfred take home leftovers, and then headed back towards the house, still mulling over exactly how to approach Arthur with all the new information he had swimming around in his head. The direct approach recommended by Gilbert seemed the most effective method, but Alfred also did not want to have anything slammed into his face or his toes. He guessed he could try a hybrid method to ease Arthur into talking about his 'unfinished business' before breaking out the big guns, but he wasn't sure how to begin. Hopefully Arthur had at least ventured out of wherever he was hiding (Alfred guessed the attic), so he didn't have to threaten the curtain or upholstery with colored markers again.

Alfred took a deep breath and blew it out noisily as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. It was summer but it still got chilly as the sun set, and while it wasn't that long a walk back to the Kirkland manor, Alfred had decided it was best if he brought a light jacket to help ward off the chill. He was happy Mattie had insisted on having him pack it, it certainly helped to have it nearby when Arthur floated in and brought that weird breeze-thing with him. However, despite the jacket, he gave a little shudder as he walked past the edge of the little forest that bordered the Kirkland manor and hunched his shoulders closer together. He didn't like the forest, for some reason; it just gave him the creeps.

Which, as it turned out, was for good reason; a tree root snagged his foot and yanked him down to the ground in the span of a millisecond and started dragging him into the creepy forest before he could even think to do more than yelp. By the time the root stopped dragging him, he was surrounded by dark green and he felt a scream start to bubble up and out of his throat when the roots let go and slithered away. As he scrambled to his feet, eyes wild and glasses askew on his face, he blinked rapidly as what appeared to be a small horse cantered into the clearing. And by horse, he meant unicorn, because that was definitely a horn jutting out from its forehead. He blinked again and shook his head as the horse with a strap-on horn came close and neighed in a manner that was unmistakably laughter. Alfred felt nervous words spill out of him as he stared in disbelief at the legendary creature standing before him.

"What are—how did—are you—"

"After living with a ghost for a few months, you think you'd be less surprised with a unicorn."

Alfred's eyes got bigger and he slumped back down to the ground, sending stray leaves and dirt scattering as he stared at the unicorn, the talking unicorn, and tried to take everything in. Not a minute ago he'd been walking, everything had been normal, and he hadn't believed in things like unicorns because while he did believe in ghosts and stuff, unicorns and fairies were just lame. Obviously though, he'd never imagined a unicorn quite like the one staring down at him, because there was nothing lame about what he was looking at. And he was talking to Alfred, he, because that was a male's voice, light blue coat almost looking white in the darkness of the trees, indigo-colored mane and tail looking even darker against the pale coat and dark, dark blue eyes fixated on him in amusement.

"You- you can talk?"

The unicorn snorted and shook his regal, almost lion-like mane back in time with the flicking of his tail, the pointed hoofs moving impatiently on the ground. If it was possible for a lion, a deer, and a horse to cross-breed, the result might be similar to the unicorn Alfred was staring at; still, Alfred had never seen anything as beautiful in his life, even if it was freaky that a unicorn was talking to him.

"Obviously," he drawled. "Otherwise you'd be quite mad. Pick your poison."

Alfred scrambled back to his feet for a second time and cast an anxious glance around the surrounding forest hurriedly before he focused back on the unicorn. "I- uh, I didn't umm…why did you drag me here?"

"Well, I certainly didn't drag you anywhere; that was the fairies. But you're here because we've all decided you're not some nutter and genuinely seem to want to help Arthur Kirkland. So, I wanted to have a little chat."

"Uh, who's the 'we' here?"

The unicorn nickered again before he cantered up next Alfred, blinking his impossibly dark blue eyes owlishly at him. "I suspect a bunch of creatures you didn't believe in prior to five minutes ago. You know, 'mystical' creatures, which is frankly a load of bollocks. We've certainly been here longer than any of your kind have, nothing mystical about us. So what if we value our privacy? Not every race likes to be gawked at."

"Like- like fairies and leprechauns and stuff?"

"As we're not in Ireland, no to the leprechauns, but basically yes. But I'm not here to help you grapple with what's real and what isn't, I'm here to talk to you about helping the poor ghost trapped in that manor for the past hundred and some odd years."

Alfred blinked and stared at the unicorn again, trying to push aside the fact that he was talking and apparently in cahoots with fairies, because he wanted to help Alfred help Arthur and that was way more important. "Really? You know how I can help him? Elizaveta, the neighbor down the road, she said it's because he hasn't been in love before and that he needs to deal with that or fall in love, and I'm not even sure how that would work as he's dead and all. Do you know why he's dead? He won't say anything about it, but as he's always going on about you guys here, he probably tells you all that stuff."

The unicorn was silent after the word vomit he snorted again and cocked his head at Alfred. "You're very genuine in wanting to help the ghost, interesting."

Alfred blinked in confusion. "Why's that?"

The unicorn ignored his question. "Do you want my help or would you rather ramble off on tangents until the sun comes up?"

Alfred smiled a bit sheepishly before he nodded; the unicorn nickered again and gave a nod of his own before continuing. "We're rather fond of Arthur Kirkland, have been since he was a boy, and as it's partly because of us he met his untimely death, we've been waiting for a chance to truly help him. The fairies believe that chance may be you. You can see him, you want to help him, and you've puzzled out a large reason as to why he is still here among us, neither living nor truly dead."

"But, he's a ghost," Alfred interjected swiftly. "So he's got to be dead! That's how it works, isn't it? You die, but you've got unfinished business here so you can't move towards the 'light' right?"

"If that was the case, don't you think there'd be a much higher number of ghosts wandering about?" the unicorn asked him dryly. "Not everyone who dies with 'unfinished business' becomes a ghost, as nearly everyone dies with something that could hold them here. Most spirits do move on, regardless of things left undone here; ghosts are what happens when the body dies but the spirit is unable to—Arthur is a ghost because he is Faerie Touched and when he was killed, the magic in his soul kept him here."

"Magic?" Alfred asked skeptically, not caring he was talking to a unicorn of all things.

"You know, I've always found humans' dismissal of 'magic' humorous. You surround yourself with your own brand of magic every day except you call it science. They are not that different from one another. Nonetheless, the truth of the matter is Arthur is a Touched soul, meaning he could see all sorts of Fey creatures and phenomena and it trapped his soul here as a ghost."

"Why would it do that? That seems like a curse."

"Or perhaps it was a gift, a second chance."

Alfred waited for the unicorn to elaborate on his cryptic answer, but he just stood there and looked smug so Alfred pushed through. "Ok, so how can I help?"

"You've already been told how you can help, that clever woman down the road worked it out for you."

"What, getting Arthur to fall in love? And how exactly am I supposed to do that? We can argue whether he's technically dead or just halfway there, but still, it's not like he can go out and meet girls when no one but me can see him."

"Who said anything about random girls? And you said it yourself, you can see him, problem solved."

The unicorn stared at Alfred in a knowing fashion and after a moment it clicked in his head with terrible, exciting, and mind-boggling certainty. "What, you mean ME? You want me to get Arthur to fall for ME?"

"You're quite loud as it is, there's no need to shout, I'm right here," the unicorn quipped dryly. "Of course I'm referring to you. Have you met any other eligible young men who can see Arthur around recently?"

"But- but—"

Alfred didn't even know how to protest. What the hell was the unicorn even on about? How did he expect Alfred to get a stuffy, Victorian era ghost to fall for him, and why would Alfred even want him to? Sure, Alfred wasn't fussy about gender and had a supportive family and all that so it wasn't about Arthur being a guy, but seriously, he was a ghost! It didn't matter how kind he was under all that bluster, how good of a friend he'd been to Alfred the past two months, how he smiled and enjoyed every one of Alfred's comics even though he clearly was more a fan of stuff like Shakespeare. Or how green his eyes were, that he was quite attractive for being a transparent phantom, that Alfred had those weird stomach cramps whenever Arthur would give him a small smirk, smile, laugh. Or- or—

"You want to help him, I'm telling you how. Whether you can or not isn't something any of us can control; though I doubt the fairies would have even contacted the rest of us about you if they didn't believe there was a chance that you could." The unicorn's words were almost gentle as he rested his chin on Alfred's shoulder, the soft, downy hair on his cheek brushing against Alfred's.

"Yeah, yeah ok… I guess that makes sense. But isn't that messed up? Getting him to fall in love and then sending him on after that?" Alfred felt uncharacteristically angry at the thought. Arthur had never been in love, or maybe never been in love with someone who loved him back; if his ticket out of being a ghost meant finding that kind of love and then being forced from it…it wasn't fair at all.

"You'd be surprised how powerful the human heart can be, if the human is strong enough to endure. You'd also be surprised at all it can do with the proper motivation." The unicorn stepped away from Alfred, pointing with one of his hoofs out of the forest the same way the tree roots had dragged him in by. There was something odd in his voice, something that seemed to want to imprint itself in Alfred's mind, as if what he was saying would make more sense at the right time. Alfred hated riddles.

"So, that's it? That's all you're going to tell me? Nothing about how Arthur was killed or about how I'm supposed to make him fall for me or anything?"

"Yep. I suggest if you want the rest of your answers, you ask Arthur yourself. I'm off now, it was lovely chatting with you, Mr. Jones. If you manage to work everything out, bring Arthur out to meet us here after everything's taken care of. I'm sure he misses us quite a bit."

And with that, the unnamed unicorn bounded back off into the forest, leaving Alfred alone in the forest with whirling thoughts and a heavy heart, not sure if he was more confused by the unicorn's words or how exactly one went about making a ghost fall for a living human—and how a living human went about falling in return knowing that if he did, the ghost would be gone forever. Man, so much for a relaxing getaway, Alfred thought to himself before he made his way out of the forest and back towards the house, where Arthur was.

And where Alfred finally going to get some answers.

TBC…

Review, yes? Oh, and you're all amazing, just so you know.

Osco