Your situation wasn't exactly ideal.

You see, 'Beetlejuice' —as you called him— was stuck in the house you had moved in, and he almost had given you quite the many heart attacks during your first few weeks there with his 'spooks' until you had grown used' —if that was even possible— to his presence. You were the only one who could see the motherfucker, and he made his point to 'spice up' your life a bit —those were his very own words— in the most annoying way possible.

He was completely chaotic and deranged, he wouldn't leave you alone a second of the day since he seemed to really really enjoy pestering you. He was quite the perverted and flirty little dickhead.

And he seems to also not understand the 'personal space' concept since he is constantly violating your space and being a touchy shithead with you in the most annoying ways. (like suddenly messing up your hair with his dirty hands, or tugging down the zipper of your jacket/dress when you're not looking, taking your sunglasses away, and undoing your shoelaces.

Today, you weren't in the mood of any of his shit. You had woken up sick and with a headahce, had the worst day at school, and you certainly would snap —either in anger on in tears— at the next slightest unconvenience.

And, of course, Beetlejuice always had to be that inconvenience.

He popped inside of your room, unanounced as always. "heyy, babes, took you long enough to come back from highschool, y'know? left me hanging here all alone and bored so I started to rumage through your things and y'know what I found—" he rambled on with his stupid shiteating smirk, floating up to you and getting on your face. When you huffed and pushed him away, he blinked in surprise, a confused chuckle leaving his lips. "uh-, no, babes that's not how it's supposed to go, you have to ask me 'and what did you find, BJ?'" he made a poor impersionation of your voice, making his voice a few octaves —ridiculously— higher and batting his eyelashes, poorly mimicking you.