deal ;

The male turns around, moving over to your living room. He flipped every switch until he found the correct switch for the dimmest light in the room.

Humming in satisfaction, he gestured to the sofa.

Wasn't this your house? Why the heck was he acting as if it belonged to him? Annoyance bubbled within you. Crossing your arms, you sneered at him, "This isn't your house, little ghost, go back to hell."

His eyebrows raised, again, as he stared at you in mirth. Then he's gone.

"Are you sure you want to challenge me?" he whispered softly in your ear.

Your heart began to beat at an irregular pace as you whipped your body around, only to find yourself facing the turquoise-haired male.

You were face-to-face, close enough that your noses were touching. Wasn't he.. there just now? Noticing the confusion in your orbs, his lips pulled back. "I'm a ghost, honey,"

Only now, did you realise that his face was extremely well-sculptured. His face was small, with both sharp and soft features. His marshmallow-chubby cheeks had a natural rosiness to it, and it brought out the soft features of his face.

The stunning male had a sharp jawline, maybe even sharper than the knives you had in the kitchen. Your eyes traveled to his plump, full lips that were painted light pink, and his small little, yet sharp nose.

Then, your gaze met his amused, yet cocky one. His iris was a shade of silver, bringing out his eyes. He had single eyelids, which brought out the sharpness in his eyes.

His facial features were ethereal.

"Done staring, cherry?" he breathes onto your lips, grinning mischievously. A deep hue of red rushed up to your cheeks. You took a step back, clearing your throat.

"I am handsome, aren't I?" he chuckled, placing his chin on his hands, which formed a 'Y' shape in the process. He batted his eyelashes at you, waiting expectantly for your answer.

You rolled your eyes, "What's your name? So I can address you, before hastily making a deal. Who knows, you could be a devil in disguise."

The male chokes, coughing vigorously. "Did you not hear a word I said, lady? I'm a ghost. Ghost. Do you need me to spell it out for you? G, H, O, S, T, ghost. My little avocado, I ain't no devil."

My little avocado? First, it was cherry, now it's avocado? Was he playing some fruit game with you?

"it's Jimin, Park Jimin. What's your name blueberry?"

Definitely a fruit game.

"It's Y/n. Do not name me after a fruit." your eyebrows dipped downwards and at the same time, the corner of your lips dropped.

"okay cranberry, shall I explain what this deal is?" he smirks, plopping down onto your couch.

Oh god. Groaning awkwardly, you sat across the ghost, reluctant to sit beside him. "I need your help."

Jimin pressed his elbows onto his thighs, leaning forward to place his chin on his balled up fist. Seriousness laced through his voice as he stared at you.

His gaze was fervent and solemn. It was as if he was trying to peer into your soul.

Pushing down the blood that threatened to rise to your cheeks, you imitated his actions, batting your eyelashes at the male.

"What can a mere, human being - or fruit - do for this little ghost?"

"I need to save my friends," the translucent man replied. His gaze was strong and alluring.

His pupils moved up and down, left and right, as if he was taking note of every single feature of your face. The same heat you felt earlier rose up again.

"After that, I'll leave. Do we have a deal?"

"What's in it for me?"

You replied almost immediately, suspicion gliding its way into your chest. You weren't about to let some phantom use you and run away.

"My attractive face and hot body," Jimin answers slyly, shooting you a wink. Instantly, you threw a cushion at the male.

That was only one thing you were good at - accuracy. The cushion smacks the boy's face, smashing into his nose.

Jimin's body falls backward, head tilting up in a weird angle. The cushion was now lying on his chest. His eyes were shut and his body was stationary.

"Stop exaggerating, pig face," you snort, eyeing the attacked Jimin.

Still, there was no movement.

Raising your eyebrow, you took a step forward. He couldn't be dead... right? I mean, he is technically dead.

"Jimin?" you asked, fear hidden in your words. Casting a cursory glance, you spotted a cane nearby. Maybe that'll work.

You sprinted towards it, picking it up and sprinting back. You stopped two steps before the unmoving male. Your hand trembled as you held the cane out, poking the unconscious boy.

Did a cushion really have such effects on a ghost? You poked his body, waiting for a reaction. The second the cane landed on his shoulder, his eyes shot open and pulled the long stick.

A yelp escaped your mouth as you were pulled forward, along with the wooden stick. Jimin's hand snaked around your waist, catching your fall.

His soft, warm hands lifted you a little, so that you were straddling his thighs, one leg on each side. "Fallin' for me already?" the turquoise-haired spirit chortled, pupils dilating.

That familiar smirk was back.

His silver iris darkened along with his lowered voice, and smug tone. There was something about his eyes. There was something in it that he tried to mask.

This time, you couldn't help but allow the blood to rush to your cheeks when you realised the certain position the both of you were in.

You were on his lap, hands settled on his chest. The hands on your waist held you firmly, forbidding you from moving. "Do we have a deal?" the ghost under you repeated.

This time, there was a shift in his voice. It became more alluring, harder to resist. It was like he was trying to use it to get to you. His eyes flickered like a broken light bulb. His silver iris turned dark blue, only for a second.

"What's in it for me?" you whispered. It came out softer than how you thought you'd sound. His eyes. It pulled you in. Both of you locked eye contact.

The colour of his eyes flashed blue again, staying a little longer this time. As the blue shade left, it stole your breath along.

Seconds, minutes, passed.

None of you looked away. Looking away was like allowing the life in you to be sucked out.

Jimin was the first to break eye contact, turning his head slightly to the left. "I'll help you regain a lost memory." he murmured under his breath.

"What?" confusion took over me. Lost memory..?

"Someone blocked out your memories, my durian," he looks back up at you, lifting his hand to caress your cheeks.

You couldn't tell if he was serious or joking at this point.

You shuddered as he used the side of his thumb and dragged it across your lips, his other four fingers resting on your jawline.

His hand was surprisingly moist. Maybe his hands perspired, just like yours did. The door shook, yet again, as someone's knuckles collided with it.

In a second, Jimin disappeared, leaving you sitting awkwardly with your legs bent in a certain way on the couch. Your cheeks flushed red when you realised he was probably watching you.

You've never had so many visitors in one night. You pulled open the door, slow and steady this time. The gap was small enough to pop your head out.

You gaped at the figure outside.

"Do you know what is a hungry ghost festival?" the lady asked, tilting her head to peek into your house. You prayed hard that Jimin was nowhere to be seen.

"Y-yeah," you gulped, staring at her flickering figure. The lady was in a bloody red dress, face caked with makeup, and wore high heeled shoes. And inside the lady, was a short, fat, red thing with horns.

It was a bloody red coloured thing.

What the heck was that?

You swallowed hard, trying to not lock eyes with the hideous monster. It was a thing, in a human. The lady's body figure was flickering, allowing you to see the thing inside.

Her body was opaque, and in a second, it would be translucent, revealing the hidden demon.

"I realised, that you have many dark and hidden spots in your house. You do know that ghosts would hide in there, right?" the lady stared down at you, gaze icy cold.

What was with everyone and their 'hungry ghost festival' and 'ghosts hiding in your house'. Why did they only suspect your house?

Maybe because there was an actual ghost in your house. "I got an exorcism's number, I'm calling him after this whole thing ends," you nodded at the human-thing.

"Okay, take care. Your hair would stand up if ghosts were staring at you or in your house, remember to call an exorcism then," and with that, the lady left.

Your cheeks puffed out and and let out a sigh of relief. A mental ten seconds timer ticked in your head. Before you concluded that there was no one outside.

"Jimin?" you whispered cautiously, not wanting that human-thing to hear you. Cold air whoosed past you, before Jimin appeared in front of you, holding out something that seemed to be your cellphone.

He hummed, holding out the rectangular-shaped object above his head, tilting it left and right under the light. After thoroughly inspecting the phone, he placed it down, eyeing it suspiciously.

"What does that do?" his eyes finally locked with yours. There was no hint of fear or hesitation twirling in his orbs. Did he not care about the fact they sent some red-fat-thingy to search for ghosts?

Something clicked in your head.

"You were lying, weren't you?" you narrowed your eyes on the faded figure.

"What?" Jimin's eyes enlarged at your words, eyebrows raised higher than any other time he's raised them.

"There is no hotline to hell, is there?"

The turquoise-haired ghost gulped thickly, Adam's apple bobbing up and down. The colour or your eyes darkened as your eyebrows drew downwards.

"Honeydew..." Jimin trails off, a mix of emotions expressed on his face. Both of his hands quivered as they made their way to the sides of his puffed cheeks, trying to use it to distract you.

He still had the audacity to call you a honeydew.

You weren't about to let him have it. That Kim dude was obviously a mortal, unlike that red-fat-thingy that tried to hide in a lady's stomach.

You shook your head at the thought.

"Three,"

Jimin's eyes widened even more, if it was possible.

"Two,"

The spectre gulped, opening his mouth to say something, But you intercepted before he could utter a word.

"One." you hissed out, voice strained and tight.

You grabbed the closest thing - which happened to be your favourite potted plant - and smashed it onto Jimin's fading figure.

The pot was shattered, broken pieces falling onto the ground. It was like a work of art - except the plant, that should be in a pot, growing, had stained your white wall. The soil, that used to occupy the space in the pot, had splattered itself across the white wall.

Jimin disappeared on you.

"PARK JIMIN!!" your high-pitched voice yelled out the phantom's name.