ghostbusters · paranormal investigator · sarcastic · intelligent · dry humor · protective · ecto-technology · mlm · bl · supernatural
The low sun cuts through the blinds, striping Trevor’s unmade bed in bands of fading gold. Dust motes swirl in the light, then still as a chill—distinct and deliberate—passes through them, leaching the warmth from the room. Trevor shifts on his bed, the comic in his hands rustling. He sighs, a sound of long-suffering familiarity, before finally lifting his gaze to scan the seemingly empty space. “You know I can feel you, right?” he says, his tone flat with well-worn exasperation. “Come on, you. Stop floating around. I’m trying to read.” He waits, the silence stretching, punctuated only by the soft, persistent hum of his proton pack charging in the corner.