“Oh, aren’t you a charmer~? I’ll have you know that I’m a married woman,” she cooed with a bashful giggle, her cheeks rosy. Pulling her hair back a bit, she moved to take a sip of coffee as she watched the wind begin to pick up outside.

“We’ve never had a... an LGBT person in our town,” she explained carefully at the news. “At least, not knowingly. I have no problem with it but... I’d keep it quiet, okay? Now... why did your boyfriend go to jail? I’ve heard Philadelphia can be pretty dangerous, yeah? Was he some punk?”
 
It was genuinely strange for Nyle to even consider hiding his sexuality, or even keeping it quiet. He'd had hopes of finding a boyfriend, one who wasn't going to be an ass and end up in jail, but apparently being open with his sexuality wasn't the wisest thing to do in the small town.

"I mean-- I guess? I dunno, I don't think it's fair to hide who I am like that. If people have a problem with it, that's their issue, not mine. I can handle it," he murmured carefully, cupping his mug for the warmth it gave off. "And I was hoping to meet a guy here, some nice country man. My ex was a piece of shit. He's partly why I needed to get out of that city, I suppose-- he used to stalk me. I know, right? Creepy as hell."
 
“You dated him, even though he stalked you?” She questioned curiously, her brows raising in disbelief. Reaching for a cookie, she dared to break it in half to nibble lightly. She was social, sure, but she wasn’t the best conversationalist in the world. Beginning to question more, she was cut off by the eerie sounds of footsteps. It wasn’t anything major, especially compared to how Leo reacted before, but it still spooked the older woman.

“... Ah, look at the time,” she whispered warily as she looked towards her wrist, her lips pursing. “I need to head back, my husband will be home and I need to make dinner, aha... here, I wrote down my number so you can call if you want, okay?”
 
It was probably best to leave the woman oblivious to the extent of which his ex-boyfriend had troubled him, especially when the truth wasn't all that pretty. Besides, the less said about his ex, the better - it only made him get emotional whenever he mentioned him. He'd much rather continue to playfully flirt and continue the nice conversation with her, and he couldn't help but frown a tad to himself the second he realised she was heading off.

"I-- yeah, that'd be great, I'll give you a call sometime," he promised, accepting the number and focusing on that, rather than the sound of footsteps he found difficult to block out.
 
“You had a boyfriend?” Leo’s voice asked the minute Gigi stepped over the threshold, though he didn’t make himself appear. He remained transparent in both fear of being yelled at - something he reacted poorly to - and attempting to make some form of peace with the human. For a spirit, he grew tired getting angry so often - he much preferred to sulk.

“... I had a girlfriend,” he murmured proudly, refusing to admit their failed relationship. “She was cute... I think, aha... I’m jealous, I don’t have my computer to contact anyone.”
 
"Had a boyfriend, yes. Past tense. It's completely over at this point. I don't feel comfortable dating someone who chokes me and pretends it's some kink thing, when I fucking knew it wasn't-- look, I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to talk to you about a-anything, got that? Not my ex boyfriend, not whatever social life -or lack thereof- you had. I don't want to do that," the human grimaced, glancing around in expectation to see the ghost, so when he didn't, he just grimaced further . At least if he saw the other he could pretend he wasn't dead. Just hearing his voice and knowing he was hovering nearby, invisibly, made it difficult to convince himself that he was anything but a ghost.

"I just want to drink my coffee, eat these cookies that nice neighbour left and... and browse the internet for some funny cat video on YouTube or some weird Buzzfeed article, alright? I just... I want to relax and you're not helping. I don't really want to talk to someone who's basically threatened me the moment we met."
 
“... I’m sorry,” he replied quietly as he took a seat at the table though refused to make himself known. “Don’t you think this sucks for me, too? All I ever wanted was to be alone and... and now I’m here, dead, forced into this house with some stranger. I don’t want this to be a therapy session, aha...”

With a shaky voice, he did make an appearance and reached for the cup of coffee. He couldn’t drink it, obviously, but holding onto it made him feel a little normal, at least. Normalcy was a rarity when you were a ghost, after all.

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” he whispered as he watched Bitters pad into the room for the bowl of water that Leo placed for him in the utility room. “I... I mean, I did, actually, but i shouldn’t have been. You’re lucky you can at least entertain yourself here.”
 
"Yeah, well, rest assured I'm starting to hate it here so I'll probably be gone in a month. Apparently you lot around here aren't too used to guys like me popping up. Apparently, I have to try and keep my sexuality on the down low. Knowing my luck, the townsfolk will find out and turn up at my door at midnight with torches and pitchforks like some fucking Frankenstein movie," he dramatically sighed, fully realising that he was being hyperbolic, but his hyperbole and exaggeration at least took his mind off the fact he was talking and conversing with a fucking ghost.

"Smashing the mirror wasn't really a good thing to do. That's 7 years bad luck right there," he began, finally managing a smile in the other's direction once he appeared. "I mean, sharing your home with me isn't as bad as you think. I'm a decent guy, you know?"
 
“They won’t come after you if you don’t talk to them,” he pointed out simply as he locked his eyes on the table as to avoid Nyle’s. Granted, he had no doubt that his own pure black eyes would probably scare the other.

“Hey, can’t get bad luck when you’re dead, so that’s a plus,” he weakly offered as he smiled down at the table. “That’s all on you, buddy. Maybe you’ll end up just like me, wouldn’t that be awful? You won’t, though, you look like someone who is gonna do things with his life.”
 
"Do things with my life? Okay, let's see: my mom abandoned me and my sisters because she liked taking her clothes off for a living more. I dropped out of college because it got too tough and I didn't like the hard work. My ex-boyfriend is in jail for stalking me-- and now I have to avoid getting a new boyfriend in case the town turns on me. Add into the equation I'm living with a ghost who doesn't want me around, and yeah, that all adds up to mean my life's real great, doesn't it, pal?" Nyle replied with a sarcastic smile, which soon disappeared when he managed to log into all his favourite social media sites and saw that his friends were all currently out dining together at their favourite diner. Granted, they at least referenced him in a rather cute hashtag, but it still deflated his attitude even more.

Meanwhile, he was sat with the soul of a dead person, in an almost desolate town where he now realised he had to limit elements of his personality to avoid his sexuality being known. There wasn't really much surprise in the fact he was already regretting the hasty decision to abandon everything and move away when this was the reality he had to put up with now.

"I won't end up like you, I don't... plan on dying anytime soon. I mean, I'm guessing you... took your own life, huh?" He sighed, glancing up from the laptop screen to take in the unsubtle gashes along the other's wrists. "...That's... pretty rough."
 
“Thanks.” He replied flatly, his own smile fading into a frown as he looked up from the table and got to his feet. “I regret it, Sure, but nothing came out of me dying. Not really, at least. I mean, my friends never found out, I imagine. They’re... what, in their thirties? Jesus... my parents are probably living their lives and this town barely knew enough about me. I heard that lady, she wasn’t really subtle in trying to make up for what they did by branching out to you.”

Leaning to pet Bitters, he did take in the kitchen warily. He was never one for decorating, at least not things like the kitchen, so to see it covered in flowers and designs was a bit daunting. Even if he did decorate, he didn’t want it to be so... vibrant.
 
"So given all that, you're intent on me leaving and you being alone again? Like, dude, I'm right here for you to talk to and shit, assuming you're not going to become murderous and slaughter me in my sleep. You seem rad, y'know? We had a little hiccup, but I think we're... alright now?" Nyle began cautiously, watching the other examine the kitchen. Only five minutes ago he'd wanted the other to stay as far away from him as possible, and now he was actively pursuing a sort of friendship. Leo didn't seem to judge him for his sexuality - he barely questioned him about it. If everyone in this town was a little... wary of homosexuality, he wanted to befriend the people who weren't bigots-- even if those people were damn ghosts.
 
“I’m not going to kill you. I’m not... I’m not violent, okay? I want to make that clear,” he insisted weakly despite the shards of mirror that littered the ground. Looking away, he instead decided to sit on the floor rather petulantly.

“I don’t need a therapy session, I’m... dandy. The only plus to this place being redone is the fact that they put in a television with cable. That’s pretty much all I’ve done in the past five years, so... I know about current pop culture and stuff, right? You and Bitters are the only people that would be mildly impressed with my knowledge on the Kardashian’s, or that Catfiah show. I didn’t watch much television when I was alive.”
 
"You watch the Kardashians?" He murmured, his brow arched in genuine surprise. He didn't know Leo, that much was obvious, but if he had to guess the sorts of shows he'd settle down to watch in the years he'd been dead, reality shows weren't the ones Nyle would take a stab at guessing. If anything, it just showed he shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

"I mean, I love them, obviously," he grinned, waving his hand as though that much should be obvious. The fact they were his phone screensaver should be a major giveaway. "Me and my friends literally used to, like, watch the show with as much junk food as you could get your hands on, it was brilliant. I adore them. Any reality show, really. It's, like, addictive viewing, I guess that's the phrase. I'd... totally watch it with you, if you wanted?"
 
“I didn’t say it was good television,” he added quickly only to bite his lip. “I learned that you can’t really sleep when you’re dead so I’d just leave it on and pretend I was sleeping. It’s good mindless garble, or something to get wasted to. I dunno, I’m not really one to talk during television... I imagine. I’ve never watched it with anyone.”

Shifting a tad, he ran his fingers through the cat’s hair affectionately as he continued to avoid Nyle, his eyes watering a tad. Sure, he wanted Nyle to not hate him but he never really experienced someone liking him this much... even if that ‘liking’ was pretty lame in comparison to a normal relationship. He didn’t deserve the attempt at friendship.

“... where are you working?” He questioned quietly, mostly to know when he’d be alone. “I mean, unless you’re loaded.”
 
Avoiding the fact he'd called his favourite TV show 'mindless garble', Nyle proceeded to nibble at the cookies until the ghost began to talk again. He wanted to talk to him, but he wasn't going to push conversations onto him - it was easier waiting to be approached than forcing him to talk, anyway.

"I'm not loaded-- god, I'm nowhere near loaded. I... don't have a job. I suppose I should get searching for one, huh? Maybe a nice little job at a cafe or something, or a shop. I'm pretty sociable, I could deal with customers easily."
 
“You... don’t have a job? That’s - Nyle, that’s incredibly stupid,” he replied in horror, finally looking up in shock. “You don’t have a job and you expect to get one in this town? Everyone works in the towns over, unless you want to work in the bar. How old are you, even? You don’t look young enough to serve alcohol,” he quickly scolded as he adjusted himself to face forward. It was pretty difficult to see the tears brimming on the edge of his eyes but his light sniffle was evidence of being upset.

“I lived here for three years because I had an online business and I still had to ration food... granted, this place is dirt cheap now. I’m kind of offended, actually. Sure, my rotting body probably left some gross stains in the bathroom but there wasn’t anything wrong with the rest of the house. They threw out my figurines and books, you know? You... You don’t throw out a man’s books, that’s just cruel.”
 
Being chastised made him feel like a child again, being told off by his father for naively doing something he shouldn't have. He knew it was naive to rush out of Philadelphia the moment he found a property to live in without planning how to live his life once there, but he had been so eager to achieve independence and move away that he failed to take in the fact he needed a job to get an income to live off.

"I'll find a job, alright? I... I drive, I can find a job a few towns over. Maybe I'll just move house completely. I don't like it here, not that much," he shrugged - Gigi's advice to keep his sexuality on the down-low had definitely impacted his feelings about the place, inevitably. "J-Jeez, why do you care? Like, if I struggle and have to move away, isn't that great for you?"
 
“You’re right, I don’t care,” he replied with a grumble as he he played with the edge of his boxers. “I mean, it’s up to you. You can either stay here and get a job or go back to Philadelphia and get scolded and made fun of. This is the cheapest home in the whole state, probably, so... I’m not your dad, I can’t tell you what to do. Get a job online, maybe?”

With his brief moodiness ending, he wiped his nose on his pale arm before getting to his feet, letting Bitters head out to hunt as he often did.

“Look, no matter what you do, I’ll be here. You can leave but I can’t. You’ll have to deal with me then, yeah?” He grumbled, cringing at the sound of the rusty door squeaking. The fact that not even the realtor could fix it made him uncomfortable; they could do literally everything else but they couldn’t fix the door.
 
"A job online? No offence, but I'm not you. I like being social and going out and meeting people. I can't just stay stuck indoors all day," began the boy, groaning loudly to emphasise just how horrendous the suggestion was to him. He wanted to work, but if that job wasn't outside of the house, he didn't see the point.

"I mean, I just... look, I'll fucking work on it. Can you give me a break? I'm a little stressed right now, and the whole purpose of leaving Philadelphia was to get away from stress. Just... I need some ice-cream, some reality TV shows and a hot water bottle 'cos my back is acting up again. So either help me out by being less judging, or go away, yeah?"