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Change was inevitable.
Every living creature knew that. And every dead creature dreaded it. Usually change left the opportunity for someone’s luck to change: a way to make things better, or worse. It left the chance for someone change their future. Change was a glorious thing to have when you’re alive. But when you’re dead, you have no control, forever stuck within the same walls until forever ends, unable to change anything.
Button House was one of the few things that stayed the same – until it didn’t. Everything there had stayed the same for decades until Alison and Mike had moved in and even then, the undead inhabitants retaliated against it. Change never came easily to the residents of Button House.
Thomas, unlike his fellow ghosts, loved change. Change brought him inspiration, brought him closer to the ones he loved, and it helped him move past the grievances from his lifetime. It also brought him (Y/N). Words couldn’t describe how much he loved her; he had tried but had always fallen short.
Their love was like no other, not even Julian would refute that. Thomas didn’t believe in a God until he met her. She changed his life for the better and he prayed his thanks to his new-found God that he got spend his days with her.
The days passed the same in Button House. Routine was easily found when you couldn’t do much else. Each morning, Thomas would gently awaken (Y/N) watching the sunlight illuminate her features.
“Good morning, my love.” He reached out to brush the hair from her cheek, but he fell short, his hand sinking through her to land onto the bedsheets. Thomas shot up, rousing (Y/N) with his sudden jolting. “(Y/N), something is wrong.”
“What? What’s wrong?” She asked, voice laced with sleep.
Instead of answering, he reached out again, wincing as the contact he longed for never materialised. (Y/N) looked down at where his hand cut through her chest. “I don’t- I don’t understand. What is this?”
“My darling, what is happening? What do you need from me?”
(Y/N) quickly gestured for him to be quiet as she gathered her thoughts. She had lived in Button House for over a hundred years, and not once had she felt as she did now. The last time she had, she was alive. Reaching two fingers for her wrist, (Y/N) held her breath as she counted each small thump she felt. The whole world seem the melt away as her mind caught up to her.
“Thomas.”
He looked up from her wrist to catch her eye line. He wanted to reach out and comfort her by he was confined to watching her.
“I’ve got a pulse.”