Miles loved his job. He really did. The traveling, the adventure, everything about it was amazing. He worked as a paranormal investigator, though with what everyone expects him to do, he might as well change his job to paranormal landlord. Technically, his job is just to find and communicate with ghosts, but for some reason, people keep expecting him to actually get the ghosts out of their houses. He doesn't jump at the offer to do it, but sometimes it's fun and he doesn't necessarily dislike it. There was always one thing he hated, however. Paperwork. Every case needed to be filed, legal documents needed to be obtained, and everything took time. Some good things came from it, he supposed, at least it helped him stay neat and tidy.
Miles was sorting through one of the many files he despised when it happened, running a hand through his dark brown hair as he sighed. He was staying at the office late that day to finish a case. The door slammed open and a male no older than twenty stood in the doorway, a strange mist surrounding him. He was pale with curly brown hair and had the glassy eyes most ghosts possessed. Miles was wide-eyed as he looked at the spirit in front of him, glancing around for anything metal since ghosts seemed to not be able to go through it from his experience. 'This is how I die," He thought to himself, "Some ghost finally figured out how to read addresses. I'm screwed."
The spirit was silent for a few moments longer as he looked at Miles before he looked away sheepishly and timidly asked, "Is this a… Miles Jones' office?" He nervously looked around, fidgeting slightly. The investigator was surprised by the spirit's nervousness before he quickly snapped out of it, getting over his shock and nodding, "Yes, yes this is my office. May I ask why you're here?" He looked at the boy in front of him, a little surprised by how human he acted. He had never actually seen a ghost who was so calm since he was usually dealing with angry ghosts who unhinged their jaws and scary shit like that.
He also wasn't used to actually speaking to the ghosts, and the boy in front of him looked nothing like the ghosts he was used to dealing with. He was unscathed, lacking the obvious wounds that would indicate how he died, and he didn't look bruised or bloody. The boy actually looked quite pretty, for lack of better words. He had clear skin and soft features, his skin almost having a slight tint to it despite being dead.
The spirit stepped forwards slowly, attempting to sit down but falling through the chair. He frowned, trying again before sighing and standing up, "I have an issue. It's my," He paused for a moment before continuing, "My ex-husband. He… I think he poisoned me. We had an argument that night and he made me dinner. I thought it was as an apology but maybe there was something in it." He sighed and looked down, "Please, I need your help."
The older male laughed softly and raised an eyebrow, "Listen, the dramatic crying boy thing is real nice but it isn't the 1900s anymore. What do you want me to do about it? I'm a ghost hunter, not a detective. Also, even if I was a detective, you have no evidence. For all you know it was bad meat."
The boy in front of him pouted and crossed his arms, much like a toddler, "I'm not crying…" He mumbled before glaring at Miles, "Also, are you calling me a liar? I know it was him, I just know it. I'm aware you can't get him arrested, but he's still a murderer! Can't you help me do something? I want to stay in my house without him and his new girlfriend."
The older male got out of his seat and sighed, "Listen, kid, I don't know how to help you. Why don't you just go up to him and try to scare him out of the house? People tend to go running when their dead husband comes back for revenge." He walked over to the spirit's side, "I don't know how to help you, but if your little husband comes running to me to get rid of you I'll just say I can't help him. What's your name sweetheart?" He looked down at him sympathetically.
The boy scowled when he was brushed off, looking up a few inches at the older male, "You won't even try to help? I was murdered and you won't even think of a way to help?" The other raised an eyebrow and chuckled, "Alright alright, calm down kid." The spirit floated slightly as he got to eye level with Miles, the other losing a bit of his cool, "I can't scare him, don't you realize that? You're the only one that can see me. You're the only one that can see any of us! If you thought everyone could see ghosts don't you think they would get rid of them themselves?" Miles laughed nervously and looked up at him, "Alright alright I'll help you! Calm down and get down, no need for the floating. I'm aware I'm the only one who can see the spirits, but you could at least try knocking down some books or opening drawers. Hell, some ghosts can even show themselves to other people if they try hard enough! That's noticeable and I know you're strong enough to do it since you almost knocked my door off the hinges."
Miles lost a bit of his carefree attitude when he started floating, looking at the other, "Alright alright I'll help you! Calm down and get down, no need for the floating. I'm aware I'm the only one who can see the spirits, but you could at least try knocking down some books or opening drawers. Hell, some ghosts can even show themselves to other people if they try hard enough! That's noticeable and I know you're strong enough to do it since you almost knocked my door off the hinges."
The spirit paused for a moment before he took a deep breath, crossing his arms and floating back down, "Alright alright fine. You wanted to know my name? It's Elliot." The other let out a sigh of relief when Elliot came down and stuck his hand out, "It's nice to meet you, Elliot." He shivered as the spirit shook his hand, a chill going up his spine.