It's Okay, Move On

h u r t

5
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He blinks and walks out the room.

"Oh my god!" He screams absolutely terrified, "I have to call, Fundy!"

While reaching for his phone, he only realized he left it in the room. He took a deep breath and opened the door. Surprisingly, no one was there.

He goes back to where he drops his phone, nothing was there.

"For fucking—"

"Bad would say 'language' to that," He yells as the ghost floats upside down in front of him.

The ghost of his husband, unaffected by his screams only smiled sweetly. The brunet floats down and plays with the puffy sleeves on the dress.

"I wished you wore this to our wedding," George says jokingly and he backs off completely and utterly, terrified.

"Where's my phone?" He asks, his voice shaky as the brunet cocks hid head to the side, a lazy grin on his face.

"You mean this?" The other waves the green cased phone and floats away before he can grab it.

"Nu-uh, don't even think about calling him," He receives a glare from the ghost and he backs off again, successfully falling back on the bed.

"I-I don't..." He trailed off, a wave of guilt washing him and the ghost giggles at him.

"I told you before, didn't I? I said, I'd come back," George reminds him and he stutters.

"But, you—"

"I'm a ghost, a spirit, or whatever they call it."

"I thought it was a dream—"

"Isn't the only dream here, you?" The other teases and he flushes unable to form coherent words.

He shook his head and slapped his hands to his face, "I don't believe this, I've gone insane."

Hands cupped his face and forces him to look at the pale brown eyes of his dead husband, "Trust me, you're not insane."

"Prove it," He whispers and the ghost tilted his head, leaning close to him. He leans in too and flutters his eyes close.

"Ow!" He yelps when he felt a pinch on his side.

"There, enough proof?" The other grins and he sighs before nodding.

This is unbelievable, a complete, wild, fever dream.

"I don't understand though, why are you here?" He asks, a pained look on his face. This still hurt him.

George floats in front of him, "Because, if I want to move on, I have to finish something."

"Finish what?" He asks, confused.

"It has something to do when I was still alive, between midnight and dawn."

"What is it?"

"I can't tell you," The ghost shook his head, a distant look on his face.