I'll Share With You My Heartbeat

eleven

Lennon couldn't shake the feeling off his chest that something was terribly wrong.

Sure, the ravenhead may not be mortal or human. He shouldn't expect him to act like one. But it's been nearly a week since the night ghostie promised to stop by— Do ghosts keep their promises? Are they obligated to? The ravenhead had twisted every assumption Lennon had of the universe. Surely, one small promise wasn't significant enough to go through with.

Then why did his stomach wrench into knots every time Lennon thought of him?

"Did he show up?" Lennon asked his cat softly when he arrived home. It had become part of his routine to look out for the ravenhead now.

Socks didn't even look up. It just curled its body around the boy's leg as he undid his shoelaces.

Lennon exhaled, attempting to clear his head as he patted his cat. "Maybe he already left," he murmured, "Maybe he found his ticket." He found little reassurance in that possibility.

He moved towards the kitchen for a can of soda, popping it open and taking small sips. The ticking of the clock on the living room wall sounded more deafening than usual, perhaps to fill the empty space in the apartment.

Lennon thought about videocalling his parents just for a little bit of company, but couldn't bring himself to deal with their financial questions.

"I wish he told me his name at least," he whispered to no one in particular, scratching under Socks' chin. Its purring intensified. "Now it feels like I just— made it all up." He let out an inanimate chuckle. "Started imagining things to make myself less lonely."

His cat seemed to take those words to heart, finally making eye contact.

Lennon smiled, kissing its petite head. "Of course I have you, Pockets," he added before catching himself, "Oh— Socks." He just jumbled up his own cat's name. "God I must be losing it."

Socks lurched up, pressing its paws against the boy's torso and lapping at his face. Lennon giggled, letting Socks climb onto his back as he hunched over and gathered his equipment. Carefully, he relocated them to his studio room.

"Want to stay with me?"

Socks resting its head on his shoulder and closing its eyes contently was enough to answer Lennon's question.

He changed into a cream-colored hoodie, getting as comfy as he could. Lennon deliberately wore it backward, the hood hanging below his chin for Socks to nest in as he worked on his laptop.

Lennon had online courses he signed up for the summer, but he ended up on his photoshop software anyway, touching up the results from a photoshoot he had at the start of the week. His eye was still set on the contest, but his compass had wavered.

The world delved into nighttime, where the chattering and honking of cars were silenced. Lennon had the room's windows blacked out, so the moonlight couldn't announce its arrival.

The boy lost track of time. His eyes became droopy, sleep weighing on his eyelids until he too slipped into the night.

__________

Kieran didn't understand why he had difficulty breathing. He was deceased for crying out loud. Oxygen was inessential, unlike this stupid boy he couldn't keep his mind off.

It was way past midnight. The air was cool enough to raise goosebumps. And hopefully, the chestnut boy was in bed, nestled warm and in deep enough of a sleep to not notice Kieran intruding into his home.

Again.

The ravenhead barely made it to the hallway when a pair of bright, yellow eyes scared the life out of him— whatever life he has left.