No one knows where they came from.
No one knows how they got here.
All anyone knows, is that, one day, two ghost boys just appeared in the halls of Spruntsforde Academy.
True, they were all frightened at first, but, soon everyone grew accustomed to their presence at the school.
Every inch of their bodies were pale shades of blue, so nobody really knew what they used to look like during life.
One of them had tidy hair with a fedora placed carefully over it, tight jeans, and a pinstriped jacket. He adjusted it constantly.
The other had wild curls, a pair of loose pants, a sweatshirt, and some matted, old sneakers. He simply shrugged off any of the comments made about his clothing choice. Most of which, came from the first ghost.
Both of them shared an air of mystery that drove the girls at the private school wild, and some of the boys as well. They were extremely alluring, winsome, and charming.
Seldom did they ever speak to one another, only nodding or glancing in their general direction, when they glided past one another in the hallways. The students, (and sometimes the faculty), often would say things such as, 'can't you just feel the sexual tension between them? They had something, they must've.'
And they were right, the two did have something together, once upon a time. But, that was long ago, and death only drew them apart.
This was also something that the girls went crazy for, often staying around their favorite spots around the schoolyard and hallways, hoping to catch a glimpse of the spark that once was.
The boys of the school, frequently found this irritating, annoying, and jealousy-inducing. They didn't like the boys very much when it came down to this.
There was, once, a case where a boy became smitten with one of them...
"I gave you my heart, but you threw it away..."
The spirit smiled from his perch atop one of the schoolyard statues, this boy always knew where to find him.
"I gave you my soul, it didn't matter the next day..."
It was sweet, really, how every day, Morgan would come look for him, and every day, he would write a new song to sing to him.
"I gave you my love, but you went astray..."
He knew this fascination wouldn't last much longer. Morgan was a living teen, and he was a dead one. One day, he would find a nice boy who would love him, just as he had loved-...But, for now, it couldn't hurt to let him have his fantasies.
"Um...That was called, I Gave You," Morgan said, smiling shyly.
He applauded delicately and came down from the statue so he would be on the ground again. Well...Sort of, he was hovering a few inches off of the ground, but he couldn't help that.
"That was very beautiful, Morgan. Every day, your songs just get better and better," He told him, returning the smile.
Morgan stood there for a moment in silence, waiting, hoping, for something.
Deciding to give it to him, although the spirit knew that his touch was very cold upon the living, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Morgan's cheek.
He couldn't help the quick shiver that overtook his body, but it was soon replaced by an intense heat. "Thank you, Oliver..." He said quietly.
Oliver nodded and waved a hand towards the exit, "I'd love to keep you here, but you have class soon. Better get going."
Morgan nodded, and ran off, the blush upon his face never fading.
Ah, young love. It doesn't last, Oliver knows firsthand, but it's sweet while it's there.
"That was cute."
Oliver went stiff, that was a voice he hadn't heard since he was alive, and that was a long time ago in itself. That was a voice he had never thought he'd hear from again. Even if he did see the owner of that voice every day.
Turning, he saw another figure, entirely pale blue, like himself, with thick curls, and warm, familiar eyes.
"Neil..." He said, looking away again.
"I liked the chorus best, I have to say," Neil told him, still on the subject of the song.
Oliver rolled his eyes, "What do you want?"
Neil shrugged, "Am I not allowed to say hello to you?"
"Not after what you did to me..."
He could hear the older boy sigh, "Ollie, come on, it was decades ago, please, get over it..."
Something snapped deep within Oliver, as his ferocious gaze whipped back to Neil, "Get over it? Get over it?! Is that all you have to say to me?! After you cheated on me?! And with Darren, no less!" He screamed, finally letting out all the hurt that had been building for years on end.
"Oliver, it wasn't like that! I told you!" He glided towards him.
Oliver shoved him away, "No! It was like that! Daisy told me everything! You cheated on me, broke my heart into a thousand pieces, and you expect me to get over it?!" He was almost glad he didn't tears biting at his eyes, that would be showing Neil just how much it pained him. Tears, that was something reserved for the living. Although, he couldn't stop the quiver raking through his voice. Even though the wound was old, it still caused him pain, as if it was brand new.
"Oliver-" Neil tried.
Oliver held up a hand, "I don't want to hear it...Neil, you hurt me, more than any of the bullies, or the fake friends, or anyone else in my life. You hurt me so badly..." He wanted to cry, he really did, just to let his emotions out, but he couldn't.
Neil reached out, "I'm so sorry..."
Oliver's voice shook, "I can't get over that...I can't...I killed myself over it, Neil..."
A stunned silence fell between the two. Neil, because he had just learned he was the cause of death to the most important person in the world, to him. Oliver, because he had just told someone how he had died, he never told anyone how he had died.
"You...?" Neil couldn't seem to get the words out, it just seemed too horrible to be true.
Oliver pushed up the sleeves to his pinstriped jacket, and there were two scars on each of his wrists. "And when you heard about my death, you just kept on living, didn't you? Not batting an eye, and just living up to your boy band hype. That is, until you went and got yourself shot," Oliver nodded to the bullet hole on the side of Neil's head.
Reaching upward and pulling a curl down over it, Neil grabbed Oliver's hands. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..."
Oliver pulled his hands away, "I don't need your sympathy..."
"Let me explain," Neil pleaded.
"Why bother?" Oliver snapped. "We're both dead and ghosts, and you just want me to get over it, apparently..."
He took Oliver's hands again, this time not letting go, "I bother, because I still love you, Oliver."
Oliver scoffed, but there was clear surprise behind his once-green eyes.
"I still love you, and no matter what anyone tells you, or what you tell yourself, I will always love you." His thumbs rubbed little circles soothingly over the top of Oliver's hands. "And I'm sorry I just told you to 'get over it'; it was a stupid choice of words, which mirrors my stupid actions when I just let you go back in high school, and I didn't even speak to you after death."
Oliver swallowed the lump in his throat, "Neil, I..."
Neil shook his head, "Don't say anything. You don't have to forgive me, but at least listen to my story, okay?"
Slowly, Oliver nodded. Even after all this time, he had never heard what Neil had to say.
"Daisy lied to you."
Oliver's eyes went wide.
"She never liked me, and she didn't want me to be happy. Daisy knew that us together would make me happy, and she wanted a way to break us up. So, she had Darren just talk to me, ask me questions, sit down next to me, and so on. He didn't know about any of it, as far as I know, she just needed something to convince you with.
"When you confronted me about it, and said that Daisy told you, I knew something was wrong. Daisy has cheated on many-a-guy, so I didn't see why she would go and tell someone about someone else's little escapades. Not to mention that the one she was 'informing' you about, didn't exist.
"I went up to her, and, after a good ten minutes of prodding and harassing, she snapped and told me everything, but, was convinced that you wouldn't believe me, because, and I quote, 'you're nothing but a 'cheater' and I'm his friend.'"
Oliver was silent after Neil had finished weaving his tale. It made sense, really, Daisy never had liked Neil, she had cheated on many people before, and had a tendency to enact revenge on people, even if they never really did anything. And Darren, if anything, showed more of an attraction to him, rather than Neil.
"Why should I believe you?" He whispered.
Neil, still having not let go of Oliver's hands, pulled him forward. He pressed their lips together, in a gesture he hadn't made in a long time.
The could both feel the intense cold of the other, but Neil was too immersed and Oliver was too shocked to care.
It dawned on Oliver all at once, the way Neil looked at him after the confrontation, the sincerity in his voice when he claimed he didn't do it, the lingering glances when they glided past one another in the academy hallways, the pain behind his eyes when he told him about his death, and now this. The truth was there all the time, he was just too hurt to see it.
When Neil pulled away, he said, "I made it..."
Oliver raised an eyebrow, asking breathlessly, "What?"
"The bullet hole, on the side of my head, I put it there. Two weeks after I had learned you were dead. I wanted to be with you again, no matter what it took, even if it meant my own life."
Oliver hugged Neil, "I'm sorry...I guess I killed us both..."
Neil's fingers traced random patterns onto Oliver's back, "Think of it more as a modern...ish Romeo and Juliet."
Oliver laughed, that was something he hadn't done in a few years.
"So...Does this mean you finally believe me?"
Looking up, he nodded, "Yes...Yes, I think I do believe you."
Neil felt lighter, a weight that had been upon his shoulders for decades was finally lifted, and he felt lighter.
"I love you too, Neil." He finally felt safe enough to say it again.
At that moment, Neil could've flown. (In a certain sense, he already could, but you get the idea.) He pulled Oliver back in for another kiss, and this time, Oliver kissed him back.
When they broke apart, both of them smiled, the love that once was, finally showed up again.
Maybe... Oliver thought. Maybe young love does last, after all...