Tara rushed out of the classroom and into the bathroom, cleaning up as much as she could with shaking fingers.

She wasn't going crazy. She was being haunted.

She wasn't sure what was worse.

Grunting, she peeled the ruined T-shirt off of her and shoved it into the sink, watching as tendrils of ink and blood drew away from it.

She was about to do the same for her sweatpants as well before a voice behind her mused, "I must say this is my favourite part of being invisible."

Shrieking, she took out her sopping wet shirt and placed it against her chest, pink water splashed against her skin and dripped down her sides.

"Don't," She said through gritted teeth. "Do that."

Alastair cocked his head, smirking at her still visible cleavage.

"Do what?" He asked innocently.

She scowled at him, shoving her T-shirt back in the sink. Her bra was also stained red.

"You're going to have to wash that as well."

She didn't reply. Washing the T-shirt to the best of her ability and squeezed the water out, donning it after wiping herself with some water as well.

"Oh come now, don't stop on my account."

"Shut up," Tara snarled at Alastair. "You cut me."

Alastairs' green eyes became swampy as they peered over her angry cuts.

"I'm sorry." He said sincerely. "I don't have the most control... At times. I didn't mean for the beaker to explode on you."

Tara scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"So you weren't angry? Don't you dare tell me that some part of you didn't want me to get hurt because I didn't believe you were real?"

Alastair said nothing.

"That's what I thought." Tara turned and pulled the plug out of the sink, the bloody water draining away.

"It doesn't get any easier the more time I spend like this," Ice cracked the mirrors, and Tara's breath came out like steam, making her shiver in her wet shirt. "I snap sometimes."

"What the hell do you want me to do about that? You're the one following me and making my bloody life miserable. So you can stop with the self pity and tell me what you want from me." She moved so she was face to face his blue-tinted one.

"I want you to listen to me."

"Why me?"

The mirrors broke with a loud crunch and spattered on the ground, lights flickered so hard she could barely make sense of the room anymore. Leaving his face the only solid thing to look at, laced with anger and frustration.

Tara wanted to cry.

"I'll listen to you okay, I'll listen. Stop it." She looked away from Alastair. She didn't want him to see her eyes wet.

The jabbing cold receded.

"I'm sorry." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a long-suffering look pass over his face. He ran his fingers through his hair.

"I'm sorry." He repeated in a softer tone, stepping back from her. She didn't even realise how close he'd gotten. It's not like she could feel him anyway.

The image of Alastair flickered.

"I would ask you to not be scared of me, but what's the point?" He sat on a closed toilet.

She didn't want to look at him, but she forced herself to, lifting herself onto the counter of the sink.

He looked miserable and blue-er.

"I'm listening," Tara told him.

Alastair scowled at her. "I expect you won't help me now, either way."

"That's my choice, Alastair. Not yours."

He sighed and leaned back on the toilet, his body passed through easily. She bit her lip to stop from reacting to it much as he pulled himself back, leaning against it again but this time he didn't pass through.

"That happens when I'm distracted." He fumbled with his shirt.

She waited.

"Um..." He chuckled nervously. "I don't know what to say now that you're listening. I've never gotten this far."

"With your methods I'm not surprised." She said flatly.

"Er... Maybe I can just show you?"

"Show me?" Her eyebrows shot up comically.

"Yeah like, get in your head for a bit."

"You're not getting in my head." Tara clenched her jaw.

"Relax. I'm not going to look at your massively perverse thoughts about me. I'd only share what I remember."

"Can't you just tell me?" Tara groaned. Why did things have to be so difficult with him?

"Um... It would be easier if I just showed you."

She glared at Alastair who smiled sheepishly.

"Fine, but only that and nothing else."

"Don't worry, pervert." Alastair attempted to make his tone lighter and more cheery but it only made Tara that much more warier of him. Apprehensive of anything that wasn't a straight up threat. Even eyeing him like a walking plague as he floated off the toilet, drifting towards her and placing his hands on either side of her head.

"I'm not a pervert," Tara said. His cold left a layer of frost on her shirt.

"Would you like me to check?"

She glowered at him, dusting off as much frost as she could. She was definitely going to have a cold tomorrow.

"How do we do this?" Tara rubbed her hands together, trying to get some feeling back into them.

Alastair only smiled as he jumped into her body.