𝘎𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴! - south park

𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐗𝐈𝐕 - 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤

˗ˏˋ꒰ 👻 ꒱

[Name] made their way to Stan's home, hoping he wasn't drunk like the last time they had visited. Thankfully, he wasn't. When they approached the window, they could hear the sound of a guitar permeating through the glass. The sound ceased when they tapped on the glass, and the boy they were looking for turned around.

Stan was glad that they didn't seem to notice the way his ocean-hued eyes lit up at the sight of them. Or how a pink tint spread like wildfire across his cheeks. He set his guitar aside and reached for the window, opening it.

The ghost sat on his windowsill, extending out their arm to hand him the money. Upon seeing his quizzical expression, they explained, "It's for the whole ghost hunting thing. I know you didn't show up today, but I still figured I'd give it to you."

Stan accepted the explanation, reaching and taking the money from their hand. As he did so, his skin brushed up against theirs, and he had to resist the urge to jump at the butterflies that made their way to his heart at the contact, making it pound against his chest with every brush of their wings. "Thanks," he muttered, managing to keep his voice steady as he set the money on his nightstand.

There was a few moments of comfortable silence before Stan set his fingers back on the strings. He was acutely aware of [Name]'s curious gaze that had settled on him, and their attention gave him as much anxiety as it did joy. The anxiety was causing a torrent of scenarios to bombard his mind, mostly pertaining to messing up.

He took a deep breath, swallowing down his worries that accompanied the bile in his throat. He began to play the guitar that resided in his lap, fingers gliding across the strings like wind through the trees. The warm sound filled the air, and [Name] took a few seconds to process how the notes were strung together to see if they could recognize the tune that stemmed from the instrument. That spark of realization never came, however.

They let their thoughts get lost among the melody, absentmindedly watching each chord that the black haired boy played. A few minutes passed before the song ebbed into silence, and Stan's gaze landed on theirs, searching for approval.

He was met with a smile. "That was pretty good. What's the song?" The sight of their smile and the sound of their impressed words made his heart soar. "Oh, it's something I wrote myself. There's no lyrics to it yet though," came his nonchalant response in an attempt to appear calm and collected. It worked well enough, and even if it didn't, it's not like [Name] would comment on it.

"Well, you're really talented then. Even without lyrics, it sounds great," the ghost praised. Their kind words made Stan nauseous in the best way possible. He tried to shove the romantic feelings that had been blossoming for a little while from his brain the second he noticed them, even though they stuck into him like an arrow.

He wasn't sure if a relationship between him and the spirit could even work out, and there was any possibility it could, his breakup with Wendy was still relatively recent. He didn't want them to feel like some sort of rebound, or even a placeholder. Besides, he wasn't sure he was fully over her, or if he ever would be. Their relationship was on and off, sure, but it had lasted for years. That wasn't something that could be brushed off lightly.

Stan snapped back to the reality outside his brain after a few seconds. "Thanks," he replied simply, thankful that they had chose to look past how long it took for such a plain reply to come. The conversation gave way to a comfortable silence, but he couldn't help but get lost back in his own head, this time thinking of other things that could impress them. "..I was in a band," he started, recapturing the [h/c] haired spectral's attention.

"Really?" They encouraged, waiting to hear more about the topic. "Yeah, it was in like fourth grade," he elaborated, earning a tiny laugh from the person he would vehemently deny having a crush on. "Sounds about right. Is there anything you guys didn't do when you were kids?" [Name] jested, nudging the blue eyed teen. "Probably not," Stan shrugged, choosing to ignore how much more nauseous the contact made him.

Their topic shifted to Crimson Dawn, Stan's band that hadn't had an official meet up in years, much less played on any sort of stage. While he had plans of getting the band back together, it was evident that they were unlikely to occur anytime soon.

Their conversation began going in many different directions, and before they knew it the sun was slowly making its way to the edge of the horizon. [Name] soon realized how late it had become when they noticed the warm light that casted the room in an orange hue. "Alright, it's probably time for me to go," they announced. "Don't look at me like that, you know you'll see me again soon," they continued upon seeing Stan's expression, which mimicked one of a kicked puppy.

'Probably not soon enough,' he couldn't help but think before he could catch himself. "I know. It was nice seeing you though. See you again soon?" His voice had a lilt of hopefulness in it, eliciting a smile from the spirit. "Of course. Bye, Stan," they spoke, disappearing from his windowsill.

"Bye," he murmured, even though he couldn't be sure they even heard him. He slid his window back into place, hearing the small click of the lock. He let out a sigh after a few moments of silence that felt near suffocating without [Name]'s presence.

When Stan went and set his guitar back into the spot where it usually resided, he couldn't help but crave to have their presence beside him once more. He knew it was probably pathetic to miss them when they had just left, but he couldn't help it. Their comforting presence had become something he found he wanted more and more of in his life. At first it was more platonic than anything, but as time passed it was definitely more than that.

As he lay sleepless in bed, staring up at the blank expanse of his ceiling, he couldn't tell whether he wanted to chase the feelings that he had grown for [Name], or if his lingering thoughts about Wendy would permanently get in the way.

𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦𝘥...