No thoughts just ghost scrounging around your apartment during culinary finals...
Truthfully, he's been going mad with the constant smell of something in cooking in your apartment. All the vents are connected, and it just so happens your kitchen vents directly into his apartment.
Meanwhile, you're stressed about these goddamned potatoe cubes. You swear you've cut at least fifty pounds of potatoes and it's still not perfect! Because you were raised right, you refuse to let any go to waste.
Thus. The plethora of potato-based foods currently piled in your fridge. You're halfway through losing your mind when you hear a knock on the door, having to take a moment before calmly asking "...WHAT!?"
Silence, but you can hear the boards outside creak. "....yer makin' soup?"
You open the door to find your neighbor of whom you've never talked to standing blank-faced at your doorstep. Simon, he introduced himself as when you had been given his mail by mistake.
Simon leans further into the doorway with zero care for manners, nose lifted up like a dog to scent the air "...and mashed potatoes?"
"Uhm. Yes. Look, I don't have time for this, I have exams and—"
"I'll pay you. Name your price."
Simon is onto his third serving of soup and shows no signs of stopping, rumbling about the spices you chose and how nice it is to taste something again. It's...nice, having him there. Feels closer to the crowded class kitchen you're used to.
Thats the first time you cut perfect cubes.
From there, it's tradition to invite ghost over for any of your practical studying. A presence that doesn't demand attention, allows you to settle into a focused mindset. You decide to keep him around.
The fact he's working through your frozen leftovers at an alarming rate while paying you an obscene amount has nothing to do with it.....definitely not.
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