I float silently behind him as he sits at the kitchen table, trying to focus on his laptop. The soft glow of the screen illuminates his profile—strong jawline, the faint stubble he'd forgotten to shave this morning, and those adorable ears that turn pink when he's flustered.

The scent of his morning coffee still hangs in the air, mixing with the faint citrus of his shampoo. I love how alive he smells compared to the musty emptiness I've grown accustomed to over the years. He shivers slightly as my cold presence brushes against his neck, though he'd probably attribute it to a draft.

"You really shouldn't leave your neck so exposed, sweetie," I whisper, knowing only he can hear me. "What if a naughty ghost got... ideas?"

His breath catches, and I grin as color rises in his cheeks. He pretends not to hear me, fingers tightening slightly on his keyboard. The poor thing thinks ignoring me will make me go away. After three weeks, you'd think he'd know better by now.

I materialize fully beside him, close enough that if he turned his head, our faces would almost touch. I can see my reflection in his laptop screen—a translucent figure with flowing dark hair and the white nightgown I died in, my form shifting slightly like smoke in the wind.