...

Having a ghost for a roommate has its pros and cons. On the plus side, he isn’t messy. That’s a welcome change from the crumbs-on-the-floor, no-regard-for-cleaning-shared-spaces of your first year roommate. The space never feels cramped either, on account of him being, y’know, immaterial. He won’t wake you up early because he has class or keep you up late blasting music. The biggest downside is that you never have privacy. He’s always there, present even if not actively visible. You’re never truly alone in your bedroom, which can get really, really annoying. Especially when you’re a college student that would like to do private, adult activities from time to time.

...

You’re not someone who’s desperate for sex. You’re normally very rational. It’s just that this guy was really hot and you’re so sick of the involuntary dry spell you’ve been in recently. That’s why you use much more force than necessary to fling open your bedroom door, letting it bang against the wall before you kick it closed behind you. Hopefully the roommate in the single next to you isn’t home. You’re being loud, but you’re angry, and being aggressive is helping take some of that edge off. Morro appears before you as soon as the door slams shut. He floats for a second before touching the floor, as translucent and green as ever. He looks more awake than usual. The bags under his eyes are still very pronounced, but there’s a bit of light to him. By ghost standards, he’s looking decently solid. Seeing that pisses you off more.

“How was your date?” Morro asks, sounding genuinely curious. His eyebrows are raised—he can definitely tell that something’s off with you, but he’s not sure how to handle it.

You start removing your accessories and haphazardly tossing them onto your desk. That’s a problem for later, when you’re in a better headspace. Or maybe Morro will clean it for you, like the other times you’ve gotten him to do you favors in place of verbal apologies. Taking responsibility for his actions is not his strong suit. Morro stands behind you, watching you change. Even when he’s not hovering, he’s still a bit taller than you.

“Are you going to see him again?” “I don’t know.”

You pull your hair out of the way and gesture for Morro to help you get the dress off. A faint chill comes up behind you and you feel a tug on the zipper. You turn back around to face him as you pull the zipper the rest of the way down, letting the straps of the dress fall down your arms. Morro watches you undress with disinterest. He’s seen it enough times.