He's still staring on the floor, indeed having sunk down to a sitting position on the floor, long legs splayed out in front of him, arms still wrapped tight around himself. He really has no choice but to spill it, does he? How many people is he going to tell? How long before he tells the wrong person? Is Dee one he should tell?
Ramon gnaws at his lower lip, staring down at the ground, focused on a little knothole in the wooden floor. Staring at it, but not seeing it, turning over in his mind what he should say. What he can say. But he blinks when he sees a set of thin, black legs poke up out of the hole. And slowly, a small spider draws itself up and sits meditatively on the floor. Ramon, seeming to have slipped into another one of his blank, thought-processing states, slowly reaches a hand down, placing it in front of the arachnid. It crawls on without hesitation, happily scurrying over his fingers. The young man watches it for a time before he eventually cups his other hand over it, clasping them in front of him and holding the spider inside of them.
"...I saw a gh-ghost. A dead person." A pause. "I s-see them all the time. People that die, I-I can see and hear them. A-And they're all over now. Because of. Because of the sickness."
At first, she can't really grasp it. He...sees dead people? What? Oh, lord, he's gotta be kidding.
But then she sees how scared he is, how intent he is on playing with the spider, how quickly he screamed and ran from something invisible.
So he's either totally schitzoid, or he's telling the truth. Or, at least, the truth as he sees it.
She's a well-read girl, Dee is. She's read Madame Blavatski fer pete's sake. She's often had a thought that the world is stranger and more cruel than even SHE gave it credit for. So for this sweet, skittish boy to see ghosts, well, it sure as hell did explain a whole hell of a lot. If she could see ghosts, she'd probably be just as bad. Or stoned every second of every day.
Still hard to swallow, though. Granted, the thought that ninety six percent of the entire freaking WORLD would die of a super flu was hard to swallow six months ago. She'd give more credence to the nutter on the corner with a "THE END IS NIGH" sign.
"No shit?" she whispers, blinking at him. "You're not kidding, are you?"
He shakes his head like a guilty child, still looking down at his cupped hands, feeling the tickling of the crawling spider against his palms. "Mmnnm. I-I've always been able to see them. F-For as long as I ca-can remember." The first one he does recall with any clarity was a man stumbling along the hallways of his daycare. Four years old and you're watching a business man with a broken neck wobble down the hall towards you, gurgling as blood and spit drizzle and spatter to the floor behind him and stain his silk tie. And it only got worse from there...
"I know. I know. It sounds c-crazy. I know. Y-You don't have to b-believe me." He opens his hands again, checks on the spider as it just sits thoughtfully on his fingers. And, still staring at the little arachnid, Ramon starts rambling about what he saw. He doesn't even know why. "It w-was a man. He l-looked like a hunter. With a hat, and c-camouflage, you know? And there was-...There was a hole." He points his spider-free hand at his right temple. "Here. It looked-...It looked like it was from, um, a bullet. An exit w-wound." Ramon's seen enough of those to know one.
Her jaw is hanging loose, and her eyes are wide and slightly clouded. This is some seriously freaky ass heavy shit here. Ghosts are REAL. Ghosts are REAL. And he can see them.
Who you gonna call?
"...It does sound crazy," she admits, hypnotized by the spider crawling across his fingers. "But...it also sounds real. I mean...I mean, ghost stories have to come from somewhere, right? Somebody had to have seen one to get those stories started."
And then what he said earlier sinks in. They're everywhere, because of the super flu. And he saw a hunter? Outside her cabin? Shit, that means that this place really DID belong to somebody...
Oh, but he's dead. Finders keepers.
She sits down properly and thinks.
It takes her several long and quiet moments. What she's thinking about, it doesn't show on her face. But she's trying to find some advantage to this.
He finally looks up when she asks that question. While he's distracted, the spider crawls to the other side of his hand, hanging upside-down from his knuckles.
"N-No. No one else I know c-can do i-...Oh, wait. Um. N-Not many. J-Just a few of the other, you know, people back in town. Only some, th-though. Please don't-...Please don't tell anyone? I d-don't want everyone to know about it. Please?"
"I swear I won't. I mean, that must be so weird for you. Seeing ghosts. I can't imagine it's a good ice breaker at parties, yannow?"
She's trying to be humorous. It might work. She puts on a silly voice.
"'Hey. Your grandmother called. She says hay sup and don't forget to feed her dog.' Right?"
She grins a very tiny bit, trying to get him to do the same. Get him not scared anymore. Get him back into the whole 'alone in a cabin for sexxings' mind frame.
He tries to smile, but really, this all stopped be a laughing matter back when-...Well, it was NEVER a laughing matter. Ever. Nngh. By now, he's noticed the spider's little upside-down antics and turns his hand over, laying it flat on the ground again, nudging it off of his fingers and back towards the knothole. Go along now, little eight-legged friend. You'll just get stepped on in here.
"Th-Thanks. I mean, for-...For not telling. Just-...Yeah." He coughs, nods, tries to tuck some of his hair back behind his ear. While he's not in a joking mood, at least the atmosphere is calming down away from Abject Horror/Confusion/Panic.
She slowly scoots closer to him. Not standing up, just scooting along the wooden floor on her butt.
"No problem. Is there anything I can do? Can I help at all?"
Her eyes are now back to their ice-cold rock-hard usual look. The look of a girl who just loves being smarter than everybody, and making them do what she wants.
And of course, offering to help him against this weird thing that terrifies him to the point of irrational screaming is exactly that. Leverage against him. He needs her help. This is how it works. Then, he's all hers.
"...I-I dunno." He's back to looking downward, which completely negates his attempts to get his hair behind one ear, as now it's just flops all back in his face thanks to gravity. "Nothing r-really. I can't stop seeing them, Dee. All I c-can do is just...try to keep away and-...and not be alone. I need to be with, you know, LIVING people."
The closeness is appreciated since it helps in strengthening that sense that she's here with him. And he doesn't look up either. Otherwise, he might have wondered about that cold look in her eyes.
She finishes that little scoot, so she ends up sitting right next to him, her legs opposite from his. So he's facing the door, and her back is to it. Her hand brushes against his thigh, so lightly that he might not even feel it through his jeans.
"So you don't want to be alone either. Heh. This works out perfectly, don't you think? We should stick together."
Then her hand finds his, and she lifts it to her mouth. Where she kisses the back of his hand, his knuckles.
"I'm here, Ramon," she sighs in between each kiss. "I'm here."
Her breath and lips on his hand are warm, which only makes his skin heat up as well. There's a burning on his cheeks now as he raises his head, watching as she places those tender kisses along his knuckles. Feeling so grateful and relieved that he has all these people, and this girl especially, being so understanding and willing to take care of him.
He wants to say something back, thank Dee for her kindness, for being here to protect him, for believing him about what he sees. But he can't get a whole lot out around the lump in his throat. And he figures that he'd not be able to make himself be heard over the pounding of his heart either way.
Especially since that kissing turns into something else very rapidly.
She reaches the tip of one of his fingers. His middle finger, to be exact. And with one last small, faux-tender kiss, her mouth slides down over his finger (that was just so recently playing with a spider, yeesh ew) and starts sucking on it.
Her eyes go from demurely cast down, looking at his hand, to looking defiantly up at him, the wicked grin apparent even though her lips are busy.
It's a slow, almost imperceptible widening of his eyes, not entirely catching onto what she's doing, but disbelief soon giving way to dawning realization. He's naive, yes, innocent as anything imaginable. But even he can catch onto what this is suggestive of. And even then, not like lack of a more worldly knowledge would keep obvious physical reactions from happening.
"...D-Dee?" It comes out half-questioning, half-stunned. He's not looked away from what she's up to with his finger this whole while either. Gulp.
"Wh-What are you-..." Pause for another gulp. This one is nearly audible, and certainly visible. "...What are you doing." He sounds and looks much the part of the deer in the headlights here.
And goes right back to sucking on his finger and grinning up at him. She might as well have a flashing neon sign over her head that reads 'I AM GOING TO FUCK YOU NOW.'
Ramon gnaws at his lower lip, staring down at the ground, focused on a little knothole in the wooden floor. Staring at it, but not seeing it, turning over in his mind what he should say. What he can say. But he blinks when he sees a set of thin, black legs poke up out of the hole. And slowly, a small spider draws itself up and sits meditatively on the floor. Ramon, seeming to have slipped into another one of his blank, thought-processing states, slowly reaches a hand down, placing it in front of the arachnid. It crawls on without hesitation, happily scurrying over his fingers. The young man watches it for a time before he eventually cups his other hand over it, clasping them in front of him and holding the spider inside of them.
"...I saw a gh-ghost. A dead person." A pause. "I s-see them all the time. People that die, I-I can see and hear them. A-And they're all over now. Because of. Because of the sickness."
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But then she sees how scared he is, how intent he is on playing with the spider, how quickly he screamed and ran from something invisible.
So he's either totally schitzoid, or he's telling the truth. Or, at least, the truth as he sees it.
She's a well-read girl, Dee is. She's read Madame Blavatski fer pete's sake. She's often had a thought that the world is stranger and more cruel than even SHE gave it credit for. So for this sweet, skittish boy to see ghosts, well, it sure as hell did explain a whole hell of a lot. If she could see ghosts, she'd probably be just as bad. Or stoned every second of every day.
Still hard to swallow, though. Granted, the thought that ninety six percent of the entire freaking WORLD would die of a super flu was hard to swallow six months ago. She'd give more credence to the nutter on the corner with a "THE END IS NIGH" sign.
"No shit?" she whispers, blinking at him. "You're not kidding, are you?"
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"I know. I know. It sounds c-crazy. I know. Y-You don't have to b-believe me." He opens his hands again, checks on the spider as it just sits thoughtfully on his fingers. And, still staring at the little arachnid, Ramon starts rambling about what he saw. He doesn't even know why. "It w-was a man. He l-looked like a hunter. With a hat, and c-camouflage, you know? And there was-...There was a hole." He points his spider-free hand at his right temple. "Here. It looked-...It looked like it was from, um, a bullet. An exit w-wound." Ramon's seen enough of those to know one.
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Who you gonna call?
"...It does sound crazy," she admits, hypnotized by the spider crawling across his fingers. "But...it also sounds real. I mean...I mean, ghost stories have to come from somewhere, right? Somebody had to have seen one to get those stories started."
And then what he said earlier sinks in. They're everywhere, because of the super flu. And he saw a hunter? Outside her cabin? Shit, that means that this place really DID belong to somebody...
Oh, but he's dead. Finders keepers.
She sits down properly and thinks.
It takes her several long and quiet moments. What she's thinking about, it doesn't show on her face. But she's trying to find some advantage to this.
"...Who else knows you can do this, Ramon?"
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"N-No. No one else I know c-can do i-...Oh, wait. Um. N-Not many. J-Just a few of the other, you know, people back in town. Only some, th-though. Please don't-...Please don't tell anyone? I d-don't want everyone to know about it. Please?"
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You bet your ass I won't.
"I swear I won't. I mean, that must be so weird for you. Seeing ghosts. I can't imagine it's a good ice breaker at parties, yannow?"
She's trying to be humorous. It might work. She puts on a silly voice.
"'Hey. Your grandmother called. She says hay sup and don't forget to feed her dog.' Right?"
She grins a very tiny bit, trying to get him to do the same. Get him not scared anymore. Get him back into the whole 'alone in a cabin for sexxings' mind frame.
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"Th-Thanks. I mean, for-...For not telling. Just-...Yeah." He coughs, nods, tries to tuck some of his hair back behind his ear. While he's not in a joking mood, at least the atmosphere is calming down away from Abject Horror/Confusion/Panic.
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"No problem. Is there anything I can do? Can I help at all?"
Her eyes are now back to their ice-cold rock-hard usual look. The look of a girl who just loves being smarter than everybody, and making them do what she wants.
And of course, offering to help him against this weird thing that terrifies him to the point of irrational screaming is exactly that. Leverage against him. He needs her help. This is how it works. Then, he's all hers.
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The closeness is appreciated since it helps in strengthening that sense that she's here with him. And he doesn't look up either. Otherwise, he might have wondered about that cold look in her eyes.
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She finishes that little scoot, so she ends up sitting right next to him, her legs opposite from his. So he's facing the door, and her back is to it. Her hand brushes against his thigh, so lightly that he might not even feel it through his jeans.
"So you don't want to be alone either. Heh. This works out perfectly, don't you think? We should stick together."
Then her hand finds his, and she lifts it to her mouth. Where she kisses the back of his hand, his knuckles.
"I'm here, Ramon," she sighs in between each kiss. "I'm here."
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He wants to say something back, thank Dee for her kindness, for being here to protect him, for believing him about what he sees. But he can't get a whole lot out around the lump in his throat. And he figures that he'd not be able to make himself be heard over the pounding of his heart either way.
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She reaches the tip of one of his fingers. His middle finger, to be exact. And with one last small, faux-tender kiss, her mouth slides down over his finger (that was just so recently playing with a spider, yeesh ew) and starts sucking on it.
Her eyes go from demurely cast down, looking at his hand, to looking defiantly up at him, the wicked grin apparent even though her lips are busy.
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"...D-Dee?" It comes out half-questioning, half-stunned. He's not looked away from what she's up to with his finger this whole while either. Gulp.
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"...Yes, Ramon?"
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And goes right back to sucking on his finger and grinning up at him. She might as well have a flashing neon sign over her head that reads 'I AM GOING TO FUCK YOU NOW.'
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