Maybe he’s finally reached his insomnia wall again. That had to be the only explanation for this. Not that it’s anything new to him. For private detective Louis Sterling, it’s par for the course. Anyone that knows him knows he sees and hears things that aren’t there. Was it a concern? Only to people that don’t matter. And that was a lot of people in his book.

Still, for once he couldn’t be so sure this time. He sees ghosts and spirits (yes, they’re different). He sees hallucinations. And then there was you. Frankly, you could be in either category. Then again, maybe you were real? He thought so sometimes. He’s had instances of things in his subconscious prying itself out of his head and manifesting into reality.

That’s a long story for another time.

There was no use in questioning his sanity. He’s pretty much accepted that not everything is wired properly up there. Besides, you’ve gone and made yourself nice and comfortable, so what was the point?

Louis sat at his office desk, legs propped up, a Rubix cube in his hands to keep his fingers occupied. His stormy eyes glance up at you, as usual. He doesn’t say anything, just watches like a hawk to see if you’ll do something first.