There were rules to being what he was. Or at least Beau thought so. Ways to make it easier, things that could be done to minimize getting too attached. Don’t interact so much with the general populace, make yourself scarce, engage with little to no one. Basically it was a list of how to be lonely, but he’d never really tell anybody that kind of thing out loud. Ultimately, he’d thought of himself as a ghost for years. And ghosts were just supposed to wander from place to place. When he wasn’t escorting another one, he was just being one himself.
But there were always a few people who sort of got to him. That sort of made him bend the rules.
“Cute bag.” It was a casual enough statement, but he knew it’d warrant some kind of conversation and he tried not to be excited about it. Just as he’d tried not to be excited about seeing the occult pins all over the bookbag on the table occupied by the man beside the table he’d chosen for himself. @henryfitzgercld
