Phantom - Iceland

                                    

                                          
HAPPY BIRTHDAY cookies_and_pens WOOOOOOO 
                          
"Why are you here?" 
                          
The Icelander's question was replied with silence. 
                          
"Fara í burtu," he continued, but his words was still met with silence. Completely giving up hope, he went back to bed, covering himself with his blanket comfortably.
                          
Which was pulled back violently and it made him shudder due to the cold. 
                          
"Fara í burtu," he repeated again, this time innoyance. He turned away from the figure, trying to get his sleep. 
                          
After a few moments of silence, he turned around just to see the figure's eyes pierced through his in a gaze. 
                          
He got up, irritated. "Why are you here?" he repeated the same question. "Or is it you can't talk? All you guys do is shriek and it frustrated everyone you know," he crossed his arms. "And give me back my blanket. It's cold just so you know," he snatched the blanket from the figure's frail hands and covered himself back again in bed. 
                          
"I can talk, just so you know too," the figure's soft voice spoke up a moment of silence later. "I don't shriek," 
                          
"Good for you," 
                          
"Well I do sometimes," the figure muttered. 
                          
"Wow. Now leave,"
                          
"Not now," was the reply to his words.
                          
Emil closed his eyes, no longer wanting to have conversation with the figure. But he knew he couldn't sleep since two pair of eyes behind him was staring at the Icelander. 
                          
"What's your name?" he asked after a long time. 
                          
"_______," she replied. 
                          
Emil woke up, blinded by the morning ray of lights. 
                          
And the usual.
                          
"GuesS WHAT? MUESLI FOR BREAKFAST," the loud obnoxious yell of a Dane came from downstairs, instantly waking the others in the household. 
                          
Mathias popped up at his door. "And oh, your room was kinda making a noise last night. There were like 'boong bang pshh pshh'! What did you do in there, kiddo?" he grinned kind of a weird way, before going back downstairs.
                          
"Boong bang pshh pshh?" Emil muttered. He didn't remember making such a loud noise but only meeting ________. 
                          
. . . . 
                          
"Did you do anything the night before?" 
                          
"Not that I know of except talking to you," 
                          
"Your face looks horrible. Your hair is horrible," Emil muttered.
                          
"I'm sorry," 
                          
He tossed a comb at her. "Use it wisely,"
                          
"What is this?" 
                          
"You untangle and arrange your messy hair with it," Emil defined. "It's a comb,"
                          
_______ tossed it on the bed. "I don't need it," 
                          
"You look like an emo," 
                          
"Yeah because I'm dead," she dead-panned, followed by silence.
                          
"Sorry," 
                          
"For being dead?" she raised an eyebrow. "It was practically my fault," 
                          
"What's with the noise the night before this?" Emil changed the topic.
                          
"It was an accident," her lips twitched slightly. "I spooked him when he was passing your room to the kitchen," Emil knew well who he was. 
                          
"He pissed his pants badly," she added. 
                          
. . . .
                          
Emil went to bed early the next night. Mathias gave a confused glance, as well as the others. "It's only 9:00pm. What's the rush?"
                          
"I'm tired," Emil deadpanned before going upstairs.
                          
The room was dark as usual, and to his surprise, _______ was sitting on the edge of the bed, a comb he gave her the night before in her hand as she groomed her hair. Her soulless eyes stared at him for a while before continuing what she was doing. 
                          
"Finally listening to me," the Icelander sat beside her," 
                          
"I tried," 
                          
"Good for you,"
                          
"What's your name?" 
                          
"Emil,"
                          
"Funny," 
                          
"Thanks," 
                          
"Here's your 'comb' thing," she handed it.
                          
Emil stared at her. Her incredibly long hair less tangled than before.
                          
"Keep it," he replied. "I don't want ghost hair on me," 
                          
"Fine," 
                          
"And get off my bed," he said, which she did. "And stay there or go somewhere else," 
                          
To tell the truth, Emil didn't really want _______ to go anywhere but stay with him. Even though she looks nothing like other women, her hair was a mess, her face giving creepy vibes, her eyes lifeless. 
                          
But she was...something else. 
                          
. . . .
                          
It was the next night, Emil had his eyes closed. He was lying on the bed, he was waiting for a certain someone. 
                          
Hearing a faint shuffle, he opened his eyes and a pair of soulless eyes stared at him closely. 
                          
"Don't be too close," Emil pushed her away, grunting. "You look...displeasing," 
                          
"We are left this way," she twirled her fingers. "We don't live your way anymore,"
                          
"Ah," Emil breathed. "It's not that we're good-looking. I'm uncomfortable being around with you," 
                          
"How so?"
                          
"You're a- you know what, nevermind," 
                          
"I'm not staying for long," 
                          
"That's great news," 
                          
"That's good for you," 
                          
. . . . 
                          
"So you're leaving?" 
                          
"They'll notice me somehow," she referred to the others in the household. 
                          
"Where will you go?" 
                          
"Somewhere,"
                          
"Will I see you again?" 
                          
"If fate loves me that much. But I'll be expecting that," with that, she left with a kiss on his cheek.
                          
And disappeared just like that to the night. 
                          
. . . .
                          
An hour passed after her separation with Emil. The Icelander gazed the stars outside. 
                          
"Hey, not sleeping yet?" Mathias' voice called outside the door. 
                          
"I'm not sleepy," 
                          
"Alright, have a good sleep," he waved before disappearing from his sight. 
                          
"Emil's iN LOVE," his voice boomed outside, with a loud cackle. "It's all obvious now!" 
                          
"Shut your horse mouth!" Emil yelled back. 
                          
The Icelander gazed back outside, but he couldn't. "I'm not," He covered his face in his hands. 
                          
"I can't," 
                          
If you're all are still confused or whatever, reader's a ghost duN DUNN DAAAA