Catherine

"So..." I couldn't bring myself look at him.

Though I am fully aware that he's looking at me. It was unfair. How could he look like eye-candy while I get to look like a sour, old lemon? I don't know what they look like but lemons are all I could think of at the moment.

"Ghosts huh." I nibbled on the toast I had on my plate.

"Souls, bonbon." I met his gaze. He was wearing a knitted sweatshirt now, hiding the marks.

"Souls. Ghosts. What's the difference?"

Without warning, he took a bacon strip from my plate. "It's hard to explain, bonbon. I don't want to sound scholarly."

"Then explain it to me in a non-scholarly way." I moved my plate away from him just as he stretched his arm to steal himself another one. He started looking around and wordlessly got up.

"Where are you going? Look if it's about the bacon..." I looked up to see that I was talking to myself. The guy left because of bacon.

Well okay.

"The soul is the spiritual part of a person. Aside from your internal organs, it's one of the privileges you have if you're alive. It's what you have when you're alive. You call them ghosts when you start seeing them." He sat down and pulled my plate towards him.

He was wearing my glasses and he looked...well he looked, nice. Okay he looked like a hot professor. But with how he explained the concept of gho - souls, I don't think he'd be a good educator.

I scrunched my nose. "Souls are when they're alive and inside your body, and ghosts are dead souls I could see? Is that it?"

He nodded. And pushed my plate back to me. "Just...don't call them ghosts please."

"Why not? Does it offend them?" I'm having a conversation with a reaper. About ghosts. In my kitchen. On a Tuesday. I looked around the room wondering if there were any hidden cameras. You never know when somebody decides to ask a network to put you on a prank show without your consent. But who in their right mind would wait this long before shouting 'You've been pranked!'

"Wait. So if you're a reaper, and the guys at the garage are reapers, then that means...oh my glob. They're dead!" I stumbled as I got up from my chair and for the second time, I went for the knife set and got the right weapon this time.

If the guys are dead, then he must be, too!

What good is a knife if he's already dead? I mean I don't intend to kill him; that would be murder. And if he's already dead, then I would be committing double murder.

"I'm not dead, bonbon." He voiced out calmly. Now I'm thinking he's a mind reader, too. He better not come near me. My aiming skills are accurate. And by glob! I thought they had horns! And red! Right that's a devil.

Reapers wear black cloaks. If he told me this on day one and he had this get-up, I would've laughed. Damon telling me what he was, while looking like he came out of a female student's wet dream would've been funny, if not unbelievable.

"But the guys at the garage...all of them...so you must be, too." my hands were shaking, holding the knife up weakly and pointing it at him.

"Yes, they are dead. But I'm very much alive. Your friend Daisy-"

"Rose." I interrupted.

"Your friend Rose had seen me. Did she freak out?"

I lowered the knife slowly. Well she freaked out, but not because he told her he collects souls. "No..."

"Did you-or any other person see or pass right through me? Am I transparent?"

I shook my head. "You're a reaper."

"Do I wear a cloak then? Or did you, and your friend Rose see my boney fingers. A scythe perhaps?"

I placed the knife on the counter. Come to think of it, he did seem normal. "No...she thinks I got you from a strip club."

His eyes widened momentarily, and it was too late to take it back. I've seen Magic Mike okay? And we tried going on one, too. Damon's attractive enough to pass as a stripper. Maybe he's got some moves because clearly he can't sing.

This is a serious matter Catherine Wright.

He cleared his throat and I saw the beginning of a blush on his ears.

"Why are you not dead? And why can I see the others if they are."

Then it hit me. The reason why Benjie and the others kept asking me why I can see them. He must've done something to me.

"What did you do?" Accusing others was never my thing but right now?, seeing him so composed, makes me want to add a few more scratches on his already bruised arm. Without even thinking, I approached him, hands on my hips.

He looked like he was hesitating and he couldn't seem to look me in the eye.

"Tell me now Damon or so glob help me. Why was Benjie asking if we had s*x?" Catherine Wright why can't you put a filter on your mouth. Like right now if possible.

"He asked you what?" his hands balled into fists and I was almost sorry for Benjie.

"You heard me. Why?"

"I kissed you. We don't have to fu-" he cleared his throat. It was as uncomfortable to him as it was to me.

",be intimate for you to see them. I must have opened your eye."

"My eyes are open." What eye?

"The eye that could see everything the naked eye couldn't."

"You're saying my third eye is open. And you opened it because you kis- your lips made contact with my forehead?" he nodded and stood up.

I wish he hadn't. It was better when I was taller than him. With his height, his lips were on perfect alignment with my forehead.

"Then can you close it? I'd rather be ignorant about all this." I waved a hand around as if this problem was a person with us. He started moving closer and I had to step back, holding my hands up to his chest.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to close it." then held my hands before leaning towards me.

"Whoah whoah whoah. Hold up. How?"

"By kissing it shut obviously." he raised an eyebrow. He's clearly enjoying this. And I wasn't. If anything, I was uncomfortable.

"Isn't there any alternative? Like sacrificing a chicken? Or voodoo dolls? Or chants? That stuff."

"Would you rather do what Benjie suggested? Just to make sure?" I wasn't aware that I was clenching his sweatshirt when he said those words and he was smiling somewhat playfully at me.

"Dream on Romeo." I pushed him. He took a stop back, holding his chest.

"You wound me, bonbon." He sat back down on his chair, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I... I think I can manage seeing ghosts."

"Don't call them ghosts."

Suddenly, a song came into mind. Smirking as I made my way back to my chair (and putting a safe distance between him and I just in case he decides to choke me to death.)

"When there's something wrong in the neighborhood." I started. The grin he had i dissappeared and now he was glaring at me. But still, I continued.

"Who you gonna call?" Discovering my new found courage, I smiled at him.

But he had this look on his face that made me think that if I said what was on the tip of my tongue, I'd regret it.

"Soul catchers." with my last line merely a whisper, I was taken aback when his loud laughter filled the room. He was holding his stomach as he hunched over, tears in his eyes.

"That's one way to put it. I'll quit if ever he labels us Ghostbusters."

I frowned. "Hey! They're cool!" He wiped his fake tears, his face red from laughing too much.

"They were. Back in the 80s" Annoyed, I took a strip of bacon and threw it at him. It hit his eye and it felt like I stopped breathing when he looked at me.

He's going to take your soul now.

He slowly took it off him and stared at it.

"Do that again."

"Or else what..." I lifted my chin.

He looked confused for a moment. "I'm going to attempt catching it with my mouth. What do you mean by 'or else what'?" Realizing what I meant, he smiled. "I wouldn't take your soul this time, bonbon."

This time? So there were other times?

"Bradley's okay now by the way." I looked at him with excitement. I miss my baby okay? It was difficult to commute everyday.

"Would you like to come with me to fetch him?" his face looked worried.

"At The Garage?" I gulped. Seeing the guys fixing cars was one thing, seeing dead guys, excuse me, reapers fixing cars was another taste of salsa.

"Okay." I murmured and got up.

"I have to get my things packed so I could pick you up later at work."

Confused, I frowned at him. "Why are you packing?"

He picked up my plate and brought it to the sink.

"Now that you know who I am, I don't think you'd still want me around."

"Why?" I mean he's a Ghostbuster but other than his so-called profession, he was human. A living human.

Thinking about Damon with the guys at the garage made my heart ache a little. How long has he been with them? He must've been treated nicely but...I don't know, it just felt like he was sent for me for more than the purpose of distracting me.

"You make some mean spicy fried chicken and you expect me to let you leave?" I raised an eyebrow.

It isn't always going to be about me. I keep reminding myself that my decisions could affect other people too.

Just thinking about Damon living at his office was enough to convince myself that he's as reasonable as I am,

most of the time.

And he hasn't harmed me in any way. The huge couch made sense now.

A smile slowly appeared on his face, and maybe it was just my imagination, but his eyes were turning a shade lighter.

"You mean it?"

I nodded. My eyes widened when he ran towards me and wrapped me in a bear hug.

"Oof." I couldn't breathe. Sensing this, he quickly let released me and we just stood there. Awkwardly looking at each other.

I cleared my throat and started walking towards my room. I looked back to see him staring at me, like he wanted to say something.

"Uh, you got anything else to say?"

He shook his head, smiling like the doofus that he was. Opening my door, I tried to stop the smile making its way on my face.

"Bonbon?" As if by instinct, my head whipped to look at him.

"You have nice panties."

My eyes widened as I slammed the door shut, his laughter seeming to reach every part of the apartment.

I was beginning to think letting Damon stay was a very, very bad idea.

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