Hi Folks, it's been an age and a half since I last uploaded or updated. I lost the passion for a while due to a bunch of drama, health stuff mental health stuff and then covid. Now I am back in the writing mood I am hoping to finish this story and so I am updating and re-writing chapters as well as creating new ones.
I would love to hear reviews of this revised and updated version.
I will also update chapter 14, but please read this before skipping to the next.
Lydia cackled to herself at the less-than-manly scream that echoed from the bathroom. She was still giggling as she moved her way back downstairs, into the kitchen and away from the Ghoul soaking in the bath.
She gazed out the window at the now-setting sun. she couldn't help but be drawn in by the sky. It seemed like it was alive, as it blazed quite beautifully, with vibrant pinks and orange. As the sun made its way beyond the horizon, she smiled to herself. As she watched how the last few tendrils of golden light seemed to kiss the earth a gentle goodbye before they faded away into nothing. The night was suddenly upon them and as if it had been waiting for its cue, Lydia's stomach let out an angry growl. She tore her eyes away from the window as she realised she hadn't eaten anything all day. Actually, now that she thought of it she hadn't really eaten much of anything over the past few days either. She cursed herself at her own stupidity. If she was going to be dealing with a very pissed-off bio-exorcist she needed to keep her strength up. Any break in her defences and he would worm his way in, she already knew that. Admittedly, half of her was quite interested to see what he would do given the opportunity. yet she shrugged off the thought as she made her way to the fridge. She stared blankly in at the sparse contents, her eyes glazing over as the cold seeped from the fridge, engulfing her body in wonderful icy stillness. As she stared without really looking, a voice from somewhere deep inside Lydia began to speak.
"Is he really all talk"? It whispered in something of a hiss. Lydia paused, confused, though not about the voice itself but more about what it said. Normally if she heard any type of voice in her head she would have been alarmed, to say the least; if not seriously questioning her own sanity at the sinister intrusion. Yet, as the voice hissed its words she felt almost calmed by them. It felt natural somehow. Almost as if it was something that had always been there within her; just waiting for when the time was ripe and it could make its move.
"Any minute now he will be out of that tub and you are going to kiss him, not because of some stupid bet, but because you want to", the voice whispered. Each syllable sounded as if had been uttered by a snake or some sort of strange creature that resided in the blackest stretches of the ocean.
"You're scared you're going to like it" the voice announced in an almost teasing manner and Lydia couldn't help but nod in agreement. She was scared deep down that she would indeed enjoy kissing him. She knew somehow, the repugnant ghoul would win her affection with his forked tongue and once they kissed there would be no going back. She began to bite her bottom lip as she thought about what sort of a kiss it would be. She suspected it would be rushed, deep and passionate. Him trying to get every microsecond he could from her lips, before she pushed him away. But, she also knew he liked to play games. After all, he was infamous for messing with people's heads. So, perhaps that kiss would be short and sweet. Almost chaste and full of longing. A silent promise, placed against her lips that there would be so much more to come. Though she would have to work for it. She would have to ask for it and say out loud that she wanted him. It was certainly his style and Lydia bit down harder as she nibbled anxiously away at her bottom lip.
"You're drawn to him, you need him, you always have done and you always will do, after all, isn't that why you kept the ring"? The voice hissed seductively. She had never told a soul about keeping the ring Beetlejuice had once forced onto her hand.
It had been their wedding night and little Lydia had sat alone in her room. Still dressed in the red tulle monstrosity that was her impromptu wedding dress. She had climbed out of the thing only to find herself clad in lace lingerie, in the same matching shade of blood red the dress had been. She shuddered to herself at the memory of it. Considering her age at the time, it was beyond creepy. She remembered pulling desperately at the ring on her finger trying to free it from her hand. Yet, it stuck there as if it was grafted to her very bones. She spent hours trying to rid herself of the ring and just ended up with a very swollen and bloodied hand. It took four whole months before she finally managed to release her finger from the ring. She wasn't sure why it had decided to give up after so long. At the time she thought it signified that Beetlejuice was gone for good after finally being dispatched by the sandworm, (obviously now though, she knew better).
But, when the ring finally gave way she had been swallowed by a wave of sorrow. She knew she should be happy that he was gone; after all, he was practically a venereal disease in ghost form. Except all, she could feel was loss and she wasn't exactly sure why. She couldn't pinpoint the emotion she was feeling. It was just this unmanageable swirling mass of sorrow and god knows how many other emotions mixed into it. At the time she really thought he was gone for good and oddly enough it made her feel isolated and alone. More alone than she had ever been before, even though she was surrounded by her family and her dear friends the Maitlands. Barbara had made Lydia a list of all the different and creative ways she could throw away the ring as a last metaphorical "Fuck You!" to Beetlejuice. These included a few choice ones such as dropping it into the ocean. Or selling it to some poor unfortunate soul, along with a dozen other plans. Quite a few of which she was surprised to find bordered on a moral grey area. But none of them appealed to her. She had a feeling that even if she threw the ring into the deepest part of the ocean, it would somehow find its way back to her. Also, she couldn't, in good faith palm the ring off to some sap. What if Beetlejuice appeared one day and decided to do a little bio-exorcising on the person simply because they had the ring. She couldn't stomach that thought.
After she mentally crossed off every option on the list she came to the conclusion that she would have to keep the ring. Though she would never admit it, after being forced to wear the thing for such a long time she had become more than slightly attached to it. She didn't want to keep on wearing it that much she was certain of as it was a daily reminder of HIM and the confusing wave of feelings associated with HIM. She sat and stared at the ring for a while as it sat in the palm of her hand, she couldn't get rid of it, she just couldn't. She hadn't told anyone about the strange crushing weight she felt since it had left its place, snug on her finger. She knew they wouldn't understand and they would insist on throwing it out. Her feelings be damned.
She decided the only thing she could do was find a place to hide the ring and make up a story later. But the only problem was where to put the thing. It would have to be somewhere she knew it would be safe, but also where she wouldn't see it. She got up to find a suitable hiding place when the ring slipped from her fingers and rolled across the floor, coming to rest against the skirting board. She bent down to pick it back up and that's when she noticed a tiny, hairline seam in the woodwork. It was as if this particular piece of the skirting was just slightly different from the rest and as she traced along the seam with her fingertips she heard a small click. The Board came away from the wall easily and as she lifted it away she noticed a small hole carved into the brickwork. It was large enough to keep a few small trinkets or some money and she was reminded of the time capsule scene from the film Amelie. She instantly knew that this was the place to hide the ring, it just felt right for some reason. After wearing it for so long Lydia hated the thought of it rusting up in the wall. So she placed it in a small stone box that her mother had passed onto her. The box had a floret of ornate lilies carved into the top, the petals were made from a mother-of-pearl inlay, which looked quite beautiful against the dark stone. She quickly deposited the ring inside and put the box into the hidden wall cavity, before carefully putting the skirting board back so it looked like the rest of the wall. She hadn't thought about the hole in the wall or the ring in years and yet this voice somehow knew that she had not only kept it but that she had also felt attached to it in some way.
She was brought back to the present when the voice sounded again.
"You felt it the moment you met him," the voice hissed in her mind, tearing her away from the memory of the ring, that she hadn't thought about in literally years.
"It had nothing to do with Adam and Barbara, they only helped speed up the process a little. You would have found him sooner or later, perhaps in a seedy motel, perhaps in the waiting room of the damned. The how and the where don't matter, you would have still found him and let him loose eventually," the voice murmured.
All Lydia could do was nod in reply, she didn't know how or why this voice knew what she felt. The feelings had been buried so deep down, on an unconscious level that she was only becoming aware of them as the voice whispered. It made Lydia feel as if there was a great big spider web inside her which hid so many secrets. Each of them wrapped up in, delicate layers of silk. She felt as if someone or something had begun to tug on one of the silken threads and this had begun to slowly unravel the layers. Yet, in doing so it had made things start to come away at the seams ever so slightly.
"You're just like him. Yes, you're still alive and breathing, but under the skin, you two are already one. You were built from the same clay and that's why you will always go to him. You can try to fight it but in the end, you will be his" the voice muttered.
"No I won't" Lydia snarled back at the voice. It hissed angrily in reply before she felt the odd sensation of it leaving. The icy embrace that had engulfed her before the voice began to whisper sweet nothings into her ear had lessened. It began to sweep away from her like the strange crashing waves of an unseen ocean. She felt her body relax and her muscles began to soften back up. She hadn't realised that they had been stiffened as if in Rigour Mortis while the strange hissing voice talked. She could feel it leaving her to slither back to whatever dark recess it had originated from. Yet she knew it would come back. For now, it ebbed but like the ever-flowing of the tide, it would always return. She wasn't sure how she knew this, it was just sort of innate. Programmed into every cell of her being. Just like her knowledge of the voice. Somehow she knew it was there to help her and it was a part of her. Even though she had no idea of its existence before today. She now knew it had always been there, just waiting in the background for its time to shine. The frozen stillness that had captured her in a bubble of strange silence was gone and she became aware of the rest of the world again. The ticking of the kitchen clock, the low buzz that came from the open refrigerator. The gurgling rumble that came from her stomach and the depressing sparseness of food she currently had.
"You won't what?" Beetlejuice's voice sounded from behind her. She jumped at the sudden noise and bashed her head on the door of the fridge. She hadn't heard him approach so she suspected that he had ghosted down through the ceiling. But, how long had he been there watching her? She already knew that the strange, intoxicating voice hadn't been one of his tricks. It felt way too natural to be something from his magic. She still remembered the strange fizzing feeling that spread through her body, when he made the gaudy red wedding dress appear upon her so many years ago. But, she felt no such feeling and he didn't seem to be aware of the voice. If he had been the cause of it or even just heard it then he would no doubt be teasing her. Or he would be trying to bait a reaction from her. But, how long had he been watching her, stand in her trance-like state as she stared into the depths of the fridge?
"Ah nothing," she said, quickly brushing off his comment.
"I was just thinking that I'm not going to cook for a ghost again," Lydia said quickly, mentally chastising herself for such a rookie mistake.
"Adam and Barbara were always so finicky about cooking, you had to ladle everything with heavy seasoning or hot sauce before they could claim to taste it" Lydia quickly murmured almost stumbling over her words. The story she told was true, the Maitlands did have a penchant for highly spiced foods despite both of them having rather plain tastes when they had been among the living. Lydia had bought them a bottle of special hot sauce which was made out of ghost chillies, the pair thought it was a match made in heaven and she had ended up buying them a crate of the stuff. Lydia doubted that the sauce was fit for human consumption, or at least without having to suffer through some otherworldly pain. She still had a bottle in the cupboard, no one human had dared to try it so it was still there gathering dust.
"So, I was thinking, takeout?" Lydia asked sitting down at the table across from the Ghost. It was then that she actually looked at the man and took in his newly washed appearance. He looked fantastic. If Lydia didn't know better then she would have thought he was alive. The mould that seemed to gather along the corners of his mouth and hairline had been scrubbed away. His skin tone had improved dramatically as he looked a little more human. He was still pale as death but some of the ashen tones to his skin were gone. His eyes no longer had quite the deep sunken in quality that they had sported an hour or so ago.
Lydia never realised how wonderfully green his eyes were before. They were a beautiful eerie emerald and they seemed to glow slightly as he looked at her. His hair was slicked back and it was now a satisfying sandy blonde. Opposed to the dirt-filled chlorine green it had once been. If he had been living he would have been seen almost universally as a catch. Lydia couldn't help but feel more than a flutter of attraction towards him. She noted that his scraggly dark stubble looked lighter and tidier, with what looked like perhaps 3 days worth of stubble at the most. It would seem that most of the dark pigmentation of his scruff had been due to the algae that lingered around his mouth. His lips seemed more appealing too. Though nothing about them had changed, perhaps it was her perception of them that had changed. The voice had been right about her wanting to kiss him and her eyes lingered on his lips for just a second too long.
"So I'm guessing you approve then?" Beetlejuice asked with a wicked smile that brought Lydia out of her little trance. Lydia hummed back in reply before finding her words.
"You actually clean up really well" Lydia stated with a smile. She tore her eyes away from him for a second only to have her gaze drift back to him of its own volition. It was then that she realised that the ghost across the table, was shirtless. She couldn't help but let her eyes wander across the bare skin of his chest that was showing from under his jacket.
His flesh was covered in unusual marks that captured both her imagination and curiosity. He was practically crawling with Tattoos depicting various symbols that she couldn't trace. A few looked vaguely familiar and she was under the impression that they must be some kind of runes. He had a few of them penned in such a deep black ink that seemed to warp and shimmer as she looked at them. It almost felt like they were trying to avoid being read. Or, perhaps it was simply a sign of their magical potential. She noticed a few marks that stood out from his flesh even more than their black and grey, shaded counterparts. These ones had a whole different dimension to them that the monochromatic lettering simply didn't have. Some of the marks were raised up from his skin creating delicate yet complex patterns in an ivory white, which had an almost silver shimmer to it. Lydia was reminded of old scar tissue that had healed over. Except these particular scars were cut into a very precise pattern.
One picture, in particular, spoke to her. It was a beautiful set of 3 concentric circles with a large emblem set at the very centre. Each circle had two micro circles somewhere along their circumference and nestled within the middle of each micro circle sat a single sigil. She wasn't sure what the circular nest egg of patterns actually meant but she felt very attracted to that design in particular. She had always been a fan of ink and any type of body modification, which is what led to her current status as a freelance photographer. Though she did tend to stick more to Tattoo based magazines as a bit of a backup, when it came to regular work. She had seen thousands of beautiful tattoos and scarification pieces over the years. Some even depicted similar patterns. Yet, this piece on Beetlejuice had such a strong appeal she was almost taken aback by it. She felt the urge to run her fingertips across each one of the circles. Part of her thought that if she could trace these strange lines on his flesh, then perhaps their cryptic nature would crumble away unlocking their hidden meaning.
"Hey babes my eyes are up here" he chuckled watching as Lydia's blush became deeper as she quickly, tore her eyes away from him guiltily. He chuckled deeply enjoying how uncomfortable Lydia seemed. She looked so sexy with that blush on her cheeks that he made a mental note to mess with her a little more.
"If i had known you would like me this much I would have started bathing ages ago" he practically purred, making eye contact with the woman. He knew she had nice eyes, hell his little indiscretion in the bathtub had focused on the mental image of her lips and her skilled mouth. Though he had been especially fixated on the way she would look up at him with her big doe eyes.
Yet, as he caught her eye this time. He noticed that there were little specks of honeyed amber, streaking through the beautiful chocolate brown. He wasn't sure why but all of a sudden he became aware of a new fire that seemed to burn brightly behind Lydia's eyes. It was deep and passionate. Though he had no idea where it had come from, or what had sparked it he, couldn't help but be drawn in by it. He got the strangest feeling of deja vu that was oddly unsettling, even for him. He had dabbled in many a magic over the years and had got used to the feeling of how reality changed especially when he messed with it. The whole world would go on changing and the majority of the time, no one noticed. Even if said changes were glaringly obvious. He felt that familiar pull deep inside of him that usually came with his magic endeavours. But he hadn't done anything and it wasn't like Lydia could do anything. She was just a breather. Yet that fire behind her eyes, it made him feel strangely warm. It also made him feel all hard and soft at the same time which was an incredibly odd sensation. He suddenly couldn't think of her eyes being any other way and that confused him deeply. Something had changed. It was subtle, like a background rumble of thunder many miles away. Still, it was just enough for him to notice that something was different and that intrigued him.
Over his many, many years, not a single piece of magic had slipped past him without it raising all kinds of alarms. So the fact that something had slipped by him in such an inconspicuous and natural way was quite alluring. He wanted to find out more, but there was no trail he could follow. Normally magic had something he could track, a feeling of electricity, a smell of burnt iron or blood. But with this, there was nothing but the fire dancing behind Lydia's captivating eyes.
While Beej was lost in thought, staring soulfully into Lydia's eyes. She was admiring the strange, otherworldly emerald glow that seemed to shine from within him. It seemed to intensify and smoulder when they made eye contact and though he only held her gaze for a moment or two it felt like time had stopped. Before quickly speeding back up again as if to make up for the little shift. She became aware that he was staring at her and her blush deepened to the point that even the tips of her ears turned a marvellous shade of crimson. She coughed, hoping to break Beej out of whatever sort of trance he was in.
"Why was he staring at me like that? And why do did I like it so much?" She thought to herself, as she quickly got up from the table and began rifling through one of the kitchen draws; which contained mainly junk, but also happened to house several take-out menus. She could still feel Beej's eyes on her even as she stood with her back to him. Luckily by the time she sat back down at the table, he had stopped with the unsettling and incessant staring and seemed to be examining a stain on his shirt which was suddenly clasped in his hand.
"You reckon you could give this a wash for me?" he asked nonchalantly as he thrust the garment at her. It must have been his only shirt as another hadn't materialized on his person.
"Er sure, but couldn't you just juice it clean instead? Wouldn't that just be easier, or you know just make a new shirt appear? You seem to be well versed in magical wardrobe changes" She said with a sly smile as Barbara had told her about how the man had changed clothes several times during their encounters without muttering a single word.
"Well, normally I could and would but there are certain things I can't change. This being one of them" he said gesturing to the rotten, moth-eaten and mouldy dress shirt which Lydia had taken from him. She eyed the stained cloth suspiciously, she didn't have a clue how any of these stains came about; nor did she want to. She felt that if she held the offensive garment for much longer, she might catch the plague from it.
"I kicked the bucket in that one and don't ask me why but juicing it just ain't working" Beej continued as Lydia pulled a face of disgust. Not that he would ever let on to Lydia or admit out loud, but he still wasn't up to his full strength. It was all because of that blasted mirror. It seemed to stifle his powers even though he was technically out of it. The effects hung around, leashing him to it like a ball and chain. The blood tie to Lydia certainly made him stronger. However, he still had a while to go until he was back to full strength. Then he could blow this popsicle stand once and for all. Though, for now, he would focus on his plan to seduce Lydia. If he could get her to fall in love with him then he would be free from his prison of glass. Moreover, if he got her to marry him then he would have free roam of both the netherworld and the land of the living to do with as he pleased. Plus having Lydia as his wife sounded pretty sweet. He imagined Lydia, clad in wedding night lingerie, moaning beneath him and writhing in pleasure. He shifted uncomfortably adjusting his pants as the familiar itch began to return. He tried to cleanse his mind of thoughts consisting of Lydia in delightful compromising positions. As he needed to gain her trust before he could really indulge in hedonistic fun with her. Luckily Lydia didn't seem to notice as she was more preoccupied with his stained shirt. He knew that the longer she allowed him to roam free, the quicker he expected his powers to return. He knew he would have a fight on his hands tonight. He would have to try and convince Lydia not to banish him back to the mirror by the night's end. But, if he played his cards right, he would have a soft bed to sleep in rather than the granite mattress of his mirrored prison.
"Why does it…?" Lydia took a sniff of the shirt and all at once the colour drained from her face. She moved the shirt away from herself and held it with her thumb and forefinger as if she was scared it would attack her.
"You know what, on second thought I don't even want to know" Lydia replied hastily. There was more of a stain-to-shirt ratio going on and she had a feeling that even New York's best dry cleaners wouldn't be able to lift the stains. Nonetheless, she would give it a go before sending it to the local laundromat. No doubt the old couple that ran it would be horrified by what they found under closer inspection. They would, in all likelihood, either suggest burning the item or they would do it themselves. She quickly upped and stuffed the offending article into the washing machine. She added soap, softener and a sterilising liquid she usually used to soak any piercing jewellery in, to the draw of the machine. Considering the state of the shirt it would need all the help it could get. She added an extra shot of antibacterial liquid to the drum, as she powered the thing on to its most intense cycle. Hopefully, something would make it at least a little more palatable before she sent it out to the professionals.
"Here, pick something," Lydia said sliding a hand full of takeaway menus across the table to Beetlejuice as she sat back down in her seat, across from him.
"We haven't got all that much choice being out here in the boonies. It's gotten a little better since we moved in. There is a lovely little Thai place down near Mainstreet that delivers, or, there's the pizza house which is serviceable at best. Which isn't that bad considering the guy that runs it burnt down the Home Economics room in high school. He considered his spaghetti, meatball pizza pie and burger pizza the house specials. But considering you're no longer one of the living I'm sure you will be alright with his fast food, fine dining experience". She used heavy sarcasm on the latter part of the illogical oxymoron. She always imagined an irate and screaming mental image of Gordon Ramsay, whenever she thought of the illogical restaurant concept in question and somehow it never failed to amuse her.
The only experience she had ever gotten from the pizza house in question, was a week of dealing with a violent bout of food poisoning. The only thing that pizza place's food was good for was a masochistic colon cleanse. So, it was something Lydia tried to stay away from as much as physically possible. Even mentioning the place her stomach gurgled loudly in protest at the mere memory of what that food had done to her.
"Then there's a reasonably serviceable sandwich store. Oh, and then there's a Cantonese place which is actually my favourite. But, hell, guests choice" she said hoping he would choose the latter place.
"There are more places in town but they don't deliver and there is no way in hell that I'm leaving you alone in my house" Lydia added, a little venom darkening her voice as she gave Beej a scathing look. She knew he would probably order something awful. The last thing she wanted to eat was a slice of pizza, that was dripping with absurd amounts of 'special' garlic oil and topped up with an equally appauling amount of grease. Though the only thing special about the garlic oil, was that it was probably older than she was and it reeked of dinners long since past. She didn't really want to order from two different places but if he picked the pizza joint she would have to make an exception. The last thing she needed during the photo shoot tomorrow was cold sweats and projectile vomiting that would give Regan a run for her money.
"As much as I would love to see you eat a…"? he blinked and turned back to the leaflet a look of pure confusion crossing his face.
"Salmon and cream cheese, prawn pizza... What in the fuck?" He asked scrunching up his eyes for a moment as if he expected a more rational item to appear on the paper if he focused enough on it. Instead, he just identified the odour of garlic coming off the menu and some unmistakable, now-dried grease stains that had smudged some of the more exotic items on the paper.
"I think i will give the Cantonese place a go". He said with a toothy grin. "That pizza place is bizarre even for netherworld cuisine standards" He added truly confused by this mortal menu, though he knew a few places in the neither where rubes would pay through the nose for such culinary abominations. It was incredibly tempting to see Lydia go through the misery of eating such an artisanal mutation. He was very aware of the photo shoot she kept talking about and was interested to see how it would pan out. He knew she would cancel the whole gig if the food made her sick. It struck him that she was his only link to living, breathing models. He would forgo his little stunt for now. Besides, he knew she would either A: Banish him back to the mirror, while she recovered from the effects of the horrifying monstrosity, passed off as a pizza. Or B: Guilt trip him into looking after her even though he wasn't exactly the nurturing type. In fact, he couldn't possibly get any further from a comforting bedside manner. Though he wouldn't admit it, the thought of Lydia getting sick concerned him. What he was more disturbed about, was the fact that he actually found his thoughts lingering on the health of a goddamned breather. As a rule, he liked to think he only cared about number one, the ghost with the most. Perhaps a very small Venn diagram of things he would be directly gaining from. Usually, his priorities were in no particular order: hookers, gambling, drinking whatever gut rot he could get his hands on and lastly whatever scam he was currently pulling.
He didn't understand the newfound concern for Lydia's well-being. What the hell was going on with his head? The bath must have washed away all his bravado and layers of menacing aloofness he had acquired over the years. Yes, that had to be the reason for it. All he needed to do to get back in his element was play a prank or two. that would sort his head out, or at least he hoped it would. This newfound feeling of, well, feeling anything but lust and his usual bolshiness was disturbing, to say the least. He didn't care about anyone but himself and Lydia should only enter the equation when it came to their bet and his plan to fuck her. He was ripped from his thoughts when Lydia spoke.
"Good because I don't actually eat meat or seafood of any kind. I'm a vegetarian" Lydia declared which earnt a snort from Beetlejuice.
"So Babes do indulge me, why is that? Is it some sort of animal rights thing? Do you think meat is murder?" He teased as he swung back on his chair until it wobbled on its back two legs. He waved a hand over his lap and a decapitated calf's head appeared out of thin air. The creature let out a distressed "Moo" as he prised open its skull. He swirled his fingers around in its head only to pull out a finger, dripping with blood and smoothied grey matter, which he then languidly began to lick off his fingers with his forked tongue. Before he had a chance to mutter "Finger licking good" and laugh maniacally as planned Lydia interrupted him.
"Hey, nice party trick" Lydia replied in an upbeat manner to which Beej let out an angry growl and suddenly the cow's head was gone.
"It's more of a biology thing, eating meat makes me ill for some reason" She replied with a sly smile knowing she had taken the wind out of his sail by not reacting to his little apparition.
"Plus I don't think it's right to eat anything that has been observed to have some sort of heightened cognitive ability. If it can think if it has a personality and has sophisticated pain receptors. Meaning that yes, it can feel pain, then I won't eat it. It's a pretty simple subject really" Lydia said with a shrug. She saw a large grin form on Beej's face and his eyes sparkled mischievously. Just as he opened his mouth to let forward a barrage of insults she interrupted him before he had a chance to utter a word.
"But I don't care what other people decide to eat, You do you," Lydia said with a smile. She had accurately anticipated that Beej was going to try and play it out that she was some sort of militant vegetarian. Who's sole mission was to convert the meat eaters of the world into her veggie-eating ways.
Beej let out an exasperated sigh of defeat. How the hell did she know what I was going to say? He wondered to himself, bringing the menu for the Cantonese place up like a shield in front of him so he could silently sulk behind it. After a few minutes of silence between the two, where only the monotonous ticking of the kitchen clock and Lydia's evenly paced breathing could be heard.
"You going to take all night or can I choose something?" Lydia asked as Beej was taking way too long choosing his meal choice.
"Er sure, go for it" Beetlejuice replied shortly.
"Just get me the spiciest noodles on the menu and some egg rice" he replied hoping she wouldn't twig the fact that he was slightly lost when it came to the menu. He hadn't eaten human food for a good long while, so, he didn't have a clue what would be good. Or, if he would actually be able to taste it. Hell, he didn't even know the difference between, Chinese, Cantonese and Thai food. To him, it was all the same but hopefully, this meal would be enlightening.
"Sure thing and I still have that bottle of ghost Chilli sauce in the cupboard. That's if you want it" Lydia replied, before she dug into her pocket and produced her mobile phone. She quickly placed their order, asking for extra chillies for Beetlejuice's meal and she ordered her usual mix of vegetable noodles and egg rice.
"Right until that arrives I'm going to go mod the coffee table back into a coffin. Feel free to help, or don't, whatever". Lydia said dismissively as got up and quickly left the table and the Ghost behind in the kitchen. She knew he had decided to follow her as she felt a strangely comforting coldness at her back. She quickly found her tools, nestled away in a draw before she set about removing the glass lid that sat on top of the coffin. That part was easy enough, as the struts holding the glass in place were actually just outside the coffin. Sitting almost flush against the dark wood. She removed a few screws from each strut and the glass panel simply lifted off. It felt heavier than she remembered. Then again the last time she had used the coffin for its intended purpose, as a photography prop. She had a second pair of hands to help out. Raven had been there to help carry the glass and then hold the coffin top at just the right angle. So she could screw the hinges into place and insert the pins. Lydia began trying to lift the glass and not only did it weigh a hell of a lot, but it was actually taller than her. She could lift it just above her feet and it towered over her squat form. She couldn't walk properly when holding the gargantuan glass, instead, she shuffled across the room the best she could. Her mind was full of images of dropping the glass and it ended up chopping off her toes. That or the sheet exploding into a waterfall of glass shards. She stumbled her way across the room to lay the glass up against the wall, when her grip began to slip. The glass slid through her fingers and instantly she felt a cold pressure against her back. Beetlejuice, finding her minuscule movements quite adorable. Had decided to help her out, just when she needed it the most. Lydia could feel his arms surrounding her, transferring his almost reassuring cold into her skin. She watched as his arms took the glass from her and stretched to an inhuman length to place the pane against the far wall. Lydia found her mouth was dry at his suddenly newfound closeness.
She swallowed hard before muttering.
"Er thanks Beej" as she tried her best to ignore the sensations that gripped her body. A crisp frost seemed to emanate from him and with him so close she felt as if she was standing inside a walk-in chiller. Except for the pressure of his body pressed against her. Which filled her mind with all sorts of deliciously naughty thoughts. Thoughts that she knew she really shouldn't be thinking about Beetlejuice. Yet she remembered the mysterious voice and how accurately it had depicted her feelings for him. The undeniable attraction she felt to him on a cellular level. She knew she should break his hold on her and shout at him, or try to protest in some way or another. Yet there was something so alluring that told her she was drawn to him. His hands let the glass go, propping it up so it wouldn't fall. Though as his arms retracted they went to tangle their way around Lydia's slim waist. She gasped at this sudden feeling. It was oddly comforting to find herself in such an intimate embrace.
"No problem Babes" he whispered into her ear. His voice had taken on that tone again that was dangerously dark again and smooth. Like bottled midnight it just seeped from his voice delectably. His frigid breath tickled her bare neck and she couldn't repress the shudder of pleasure as it shot down her spine. Beetlejuice chuckled into her ear and with one swift movement, Lydia found herself pressed against the glass on the wall and she was now facing Beej. His eyes glowed their treacherous emerald as he fixed her with a look of pure lust. Lydia bit her lip nervously under his gaze, she wanted to kiss him. She couldn't help but stray an errant glance to his lips. Which she had to admit looked oddly tantalizing. Beetlejuice watched as Lydia stared at his lips while she in return worried her bottom lip delightfully.
She looked so sexy doing that, nibbling away and her beautifully full pout. He felt the need to capture them. Even if it only lasted a second before she pushed him away it would be worth it just so he could get a taste of her.
His grip on her waist got tighter as he brought her even closer to him. At this point, they were literally inches away from each other. He loved the way Lydia's breath hitched and he could easily hear the hammering of her heart at the sudden closeness. The way her breasts rose and fell with each nervous breath made a deep chuckle reverberate deep in his chest. He took his chance and quickly claimed her mouth in a fierce kiss.
Lydia froze for a moment, panic setting in. She wanted to push him away but at the same time, she wanted to kiss him. She felt like deep inside she had always wanted to share that with him and now was the time. She relaxed into the moment and her lips melted against his. She loved the delightful burn she got from his frigid yet somehow molten kiss. She had always suspected that kissing a ghost would feel like kissing a bowl of ice chips. Though this was nothing like that as the kiss was hot and full of passion. She had been kissed before and enjoyed it but this was something different. The cold that emanated from his body created a delightful tingle as their lips met and she could feel the slightest crackle of electricity somewhere in the background just waiting for its chance to consume her.