Ein raised an eyebrow. "Is that your roundabout way of asking me for a kiss?"
Adriel fumbled with the bookmark, nearly dropping it. He looked up at Ein with an exposed look, as if he hadn't expected a direct question about it.
"I—uh, that's... and if it is? Would you..." he hesitated. "Never mind."
"Never mind?" Ein reached out and slid the bookmark from the fidgety fingers.
"Hey, now. You stealing from the dead?" the ghost's grabby hands chased after it. "You could've just said no."
Ein chuckled as he lifted the bookmark out of his reach. He looked around, making sure they were alone for now, then he held it up to his own lips. "Go ahead."
The smirk froze on Adriel's face. He shot a quick look at the cult members in the distance, then back at Ein, his eyes widening.
"If you're messing with me," Adriel warned, his voice thin with nerves, "I swear, I'll turn into an evil spirit and haunt you."
Ein scoffed softly. "Is that a threat?"
The contrast between Adriel's audacious, dirty jokes and his flustered reaction when it came to acting on them was almost too amusing to keep a straight face.
Adriel's bravado wavered, but he leaned in anyway, testing Ein's sincerity. When the other didn't budge, he closed the distance, pressing his lips to the bookmark. The warm pressure seeped through the thin material, and Ein's heart flipped in his chest.
Adriel pulled back quickly, cheeks burning. They exchanged a look, and Ein raised a brow.
"This... doesn't really count," Adriel murmured, though his eyes glimmered with playful mischief. "Again?"
Ein flipped the bookmark, so the sides swapped, and raised it back to his lips with a suppressed smirk. "As many times as you like."
Adriel's face bloomed redder, and he dived in without warning. He pressed his lips firmly to the bookmark this time, leaning in with enough eagerness to make Ein's pulse race.
Ein felt Adriel's warm breath brushing over his fingers. That and the slight dampness of the bookmark made it seem almost real.
Unconsciously, Ein's free hand twitched, moving to cup Adriel's chin before he remembered the futility of it.
The sound of a door opening interrupted the moment, and Adriel jerked back as if someone had splashed him with cold water. A small group of people exited the building, chatting quietly as they passed.
Ein lowered the bookmark, feigning nonchalance, though his heart was still racing, his breath slightly unsteady. The crisp air nipped at his cheeks, coloring them pink.
Adriel had retreated to the far end of the bench, foot bouncing nervously like a teenager caught doing something inappropriate. A tiny dried blue flower from the bookmark clung to his lip, and Ein struggled to keep a straight face, trying not to look like he was fondly staring at thin air.
Once the people had passed, Adriel's gaze flicked back to the bookmark, switching between dazed wonder and disappointment.
"I want to really kiss you," he murmured.
Ein tamped down a surge of happiness, tapping his lower lip to signal Adriel about the flower, but the latter just looked confused, head tilting to the side.
"Are you telling me to do it?" he asked, then reminded with a hint of frustration, "We can't touch."
He licked his lips, and the flower vanished. Realizing, Adriel paused for a moment, then went back to swinging his leg, pretending nothing happened.
When he saw Ein was still watching, he waved it off. "What? It's not that strange. Rish people eat chocolates with dried flowers in them. I'll buy you some once I get back."
Ein arched a brow. "Hm," he hummed, feigning skepticism, though his tone gave away his amusement.
His gaze moved to the members in the distance, getting ready for their activity, while his finger traced the ribbon-lined edge of the bookmark pensively.
While Adriel was a ghost and invisible to others, hanging around Ein wouldn't put him in any immediate danger. But once he would get his life back, it would be dangerous.
"What's with the denying 'hm'?" Adriel muttered. "You think I'll forget about it once I return?"
After receiving no verbal reply, the ghost slumped against the bench, letting out a huff of frustration at the sky.
It looked like he was about to complain about the unfairness of afterlife, but instead his expression unfolded into a look of awe.
Ein raised his brow questioningly at first, then followed Adriel's line of sight upwards.
Soft white flakes descended around them softly. They spun through the air in slow, swirling patterns, like a peaceful snow globe scene.
Adriel's face unfolded with a laugh, his eyes widening as he followed each little flake drifting down the gray sky. "Look at that, it's the first snow!"
"I can see that."
"Then shut up and watch."
A baffled scoff left Ein. "You spoke first."
"And you were sarcastic first."
"I wasn't trying to be."
"Quiet down and just enjoy the moment," Adriel waved.
Ein shook his head, crossing his arms and leaning the back of his head against the backrest next to the ghost.
The hushed atmosphere enveloped them, the sounds of the park fading into silence. But the peace was promptly broken by Adriel abruptly jumping up, as if the bench had suddenly turned into a cactus.
"When I'm alive, let's have a snowball fight! And build a snowman—maybe two!"
Ein lifted his head to look at the ghost circle the bench in excitement, rambling on about future plans.
"Then we can go sightseeing somewhere with snowy trees or majestic mountains," Adriel gestured with his hands, painting a picture of the scenery in the air.
He stopped on his tracks as another idea crossed his mind, so bright that his eyes momentarily flickered like stars. "And how about watching movies inside with hot chocolate? We could order takeout and snuggle under blankets."
The ghost had a playful smile, his spirits so high he was about to shoot up into space like a rocket at any moment.
Ein, on the other hand, felt like he was the one plummeting down to earth. He found it difficult to tear his eyes away from that undying smile.
As Adriel continued daydreaming, Ein slowly raised his hand to catch a flake, then watched it melt against his skin, the intricate shape turning into a teensy drop of water.
The cold air carried a hint of sweetness, whispering promises similar to Adriel's winter plans. It was dreamy, for sure. Ein yearned for the simplicity of a mundane life from time to time. But it was too much out of reach for someone like him.
"Hey, the book's getting wet," Adriel pointed out.
Ein glanced down. A row of snowflakes had landed on the page, quickly melting and dampening both the pages and the bookmark. He picked up the bookmark and used the edge of a page to dry it.
Who cared if the book got wet? There were more printed copies of it. But there was only one copy of this bookmark.
After closing the book, he found the green eyes following the bookmark as if it were a jingling cat toy.
The ghost seemed to be torn between asking Ein to bring it home and pretending to be too cool for it. In the end, he ended up getting distracted by the snow, and never asked.
Ein smirked, indulging Adriel's contagious enthusiasm for a few more minutes before returning to a more focused space of mind. If everything went according to plan, the rumors would reach Victor Hale by tomorrow.