There's something weird about your new house, something had doesn't really fit in. You can't tell what it is but sometimes your clothes have been moved or your cologne is used much faster than it should be and you're starting to worry a little. Two months after you bought the house the lights start flickering, the TV turns on on it's own and you once come home to clothes spread through the whole house. That's when you realize that you have a ghost in your house.
You end up borrowing a Ouija board from Fef and bring it home, placing it on the living room table. You call out to the ghost, receiving no reply until suddenly your laptop turn on, showing a word document, stating one simple thing.
your a22 ii2 fiine a2 fuck.
You just stare at the message, frozen as another one appears.
dont look so fuckiing 2urprii2ed, you already knew ii wa2 here.
2eriou2ly, your booty ii2 fly a2 hell.
From that day on you slowly get to know the entity in your house. You learn that his name is Sollux Captor and that he hung himself on the loft once upon a time.
You also learn that he really wants to fuck you. A lot.
In the end you agree to masturbate for him. In return he'll let you see him for the first time.
It goes off without a hitch, masturbation leaving you feeling just a little more happy than before.
You hear a soft sound, like someone clearing their throat and your eyes glide to the foot of your bed. You discover that Sollux must have been dead for at least a hundred years, his clothes looking like something straight out of the 19th century. His hair is black, his face pale and he's skinny as fuck. He's wearing glasses and his eyes are different colors, one brown and one blue. He shrugs, shifting awkwardly.
"Well, here I am." He says, his voice soft and sweet, reminding you of honey and days spend in pleasant company.
You see Sollux every day from then on, in the kitchen when you are making coffee, in the bedroom when you are getting dressed and in the bathroom when you're getting ready in the morning, shaving before styling your hair and spritzing on some cologne.
The first summer you spend in the house you discover that he can only go to the roses in the backyard and no further than that. Instead he just looks on longingly as you pluck cherries and raspberries a small distance away from you and he floats up to kiss your lips when you come back. You can't feel it as anything and he only feels the heat of your body. He can still taste and smell things so you let his taste the fruits and berries you take from the garden, let him smell your body and taste the food you cook.
He can interact with most items but can't move them, preferring to hack you computer and waste your cologne in the bathroom. No matter how many times you tell him not to he just laughs and kiss your cheek, leaving behind a speck of cold on your skin.
When Feferi visits he always hides, leaving small messages on you computer all through her visit. At night he stays close to your bed, watching you.
You stay in the house your whole life, enjoying the almost domestic feeling you get from living with him.
Just weeks before you turn 74 you fall ill, meaning you're barely able to get out of bed.
Fef's kids, the ones who call you their uncle, stop by to take care of you, making sure that you're okay, that you eat and drink and shower, get around. You only get worse though, a deep and painful cough settling deep in your chest like a cold stone.
You start staying up late to listen to Sollux, to let him find your "Life energy," kind of like your soul but different, and let him take care of it, gently stroke it, blow to the flames, trying to make them grow but it always leaves you feeling empty and weak.
As the weeks pass he grows more and more distressed, running his fingers through his hair and shifting to cradle your core, to try and coax it back to full strength. You both know he's failing, that you're dying.
You've been sick for almost two months, your birthday already passed, when you tell him to just put it out. He stares at you, whispering that he won't that he won't let you die that easily.
You beckon him close and press a gentle kiss to his lips which are barely there before letting yourself slip away.
Being dead is not all that different from being alive, only difference being that you can feel him now, can kiss him and hold him. He looks gorgeous with his face bathed in golden light as you shift slightly, holding him close.
He let you pull him with you as you went away, pulled him to another world and away.
The wings on his back suits him perfectly and you sigh as he runs his fingers over yours.