The next few days passed by without much happening in them. The two roommates stayed pleasant, of course, but there wasn’t nearly as much kinship as there had been the night when they watched the movie on Yasmine’s phone. Both of them seemed to feel some kind of invisible wall keeping them from really connecting again.

After the third day, those powerful emotions that Monty had been feeling that night had petered away once more into simple memories of those sensations. He was unable to bring them out anymore, so he relied on his acting skills to make do, to make him seem human and not some emotionless ball of ectoplasm. He wasn’t sure which he disliked more: feeling the emotions and not being able to control them or controlling his emotions and not feeling them. Both had pretty huge downsides.

Today was the day that he promised to tell Yasmine about himself and her grandfather. She knew this as well, and all day at work, she’d been glancing at the clock instead of focusing on her work as she normally did. She didn’t think that she had been doing it all that often, but Marla's watchful eye was hard to escape.

“Got somewhere to be, darlin’?” Marla asked, placing her hands on Yasmine’s shoulders, making her jump slightly. When she looked back at the strawberry blonde woman with deep pink lipstick curved into a sweet smile, Yasmine felt a bit guilty.

“N-no, sorry. I will get back to work,” she said, turning back to focus, but Marla just laughed melodically.

“Oh please, that's not what I meant, hon. I was just tryin' ta figure out just why you look like a schoolgirl with a date after class. I think Monty might get jealous if you keep oglin’ that clock.” She teased, as she started to rub Yasmine’s shoulders who went red at the thought of her talk with Monty as a date.

“I-I told you, we aren’t like…”

“Like what? Roommates that make each other special lunches? Like someone who gets ta turnin' pink at the mere mention of his name? Come now, ya know you can’t be hidin' juicy details from ol’ Marla. I got a sense for these types of things. And you, my dear, are a subject of interest.” Marla said, giggling and giving the smaller woman’s shoulders a squeeze.”

“No, we aren't that close. So please stop acting like we are!” Yasmine said with a little too much anger in her voice that she didn’t even realize was there. Marla’s hands stopped rubbing immediately and just rested on her shoulders for a long moment.

“I’m sorry, hon, I don’t mean ta make ya uncomfortable. It just seemed to me like you and him have something special, so I just assumed…”

“Well, you assumed wrong… I just have something I need to do after work… I’m sorry for snapping, but I just don’t really wanna talk about it, if that's alright.” Yasmine frowned deeply as she turned away from Marla. She gave the twin-braided brunette one last squeeze before letting go.

“Of course, dear. Don’t worry bout it, I had it comin', and should learn to mind my business at times.” Marla sounded upset, and it only served to make Yasmine feel an intense guilt. The older woman had just wanted to try and cheer her up a bit and help her talk things out. But she had gone and snapped at the best boss, and basically, the closest thing to a mother figure the office had.

“I’m a terrible person, I’m trash, I’m scum.” She continuously repeated to herself in her head as she tried to get as much work as she could done.

By the time quitting time came around she ended up only getting around thirty percent of her usually volume done. With a heavy sigh, Yasmine started to pack up and put all her things away. The silence had been oppressive since she snapped at Marla, and she couldn’t simply leave things like they were. So, with a deep breath, she glanced at the clock. There was technically about half an hour left of the work week.

Yasmine glanced over her shoulder to look back at Marla, who was likewise packing up her things being a habitual early leaver. With all her gathered courage, Yasmine spun in her chair to face the other woman.

“Marla?” She asked quietly, like she was afraid of being heard.

“Hmm?” Marla said, turning to look back at her.

“Umm… I just wanted to apologize. It's been kinda a rough few days, and today is kind of the crescendo. So, I am sorry that I got so defensive earlier. I really value all you have done for me in my first week here. And I…” Yasmine had to pause for a moment to sniff and wipe her face. All her courage had suddenly turned to tears with her next words. “And I really don’t want you to hate me, so if you could forgive this once I promise I will try and do better.” She finished letting out a soft sob at the thought of messing everything up with her wonderful boss.

Marla’s lower lip quivered as she turned to face Yasmine fully, quickly scooting her chair over to her.

“Oh punkin' pie, I could never hate you. Not in a million billion years. I am the one who should be beggin' for forgiveness, not you. I was treatin' you like one of my kids and never thought you might want to keep to yourself. I’m so sorry Yazzie.” Marla cried out, wrapping her arms around the smaller woman, hugging her tight against her. Yasmine couldn’t help but wrap her own arms around her as well.

The two cried it out for a few moments, both trying to apologize for what they had done wrong. By the time they finally pulled apart, Marla looked much worse for wear. She favored a lot of makeup, so her dark eyeliner had run down her cheeks, while Yasmine only really had a few lines through the foundation on her cheeks.

Marla took a deep breath and smiled at Yasmine, grabbing and squeezing the young woman's arms for a moment. She might look like a mess of eyeliner and slightly red eyes, but to Yasmine, she was still so beautiful.

“Oh gosh, I am so glad that it's already the end of the day hahaha.” She commented as she rolled away and opened one of her drawers to pull out a small mirror and some makeup wipes. She offered one to Yasmine, who took it gratefully before starting on her own disaster zone of a face. The pair wiped off what needed to be wiped off before throwing the wipes in the trash and standing up from their desks.

The two turned to each other one more time, with a silent smile the two embraced in one last hug before parting once more.

“Good luck, Yasmine, dear. I hope to still see you this Saturday night for dinner,” Marla said, leaving it at that. She grabbed her purse and turned to leave the office.

“Thank you, Marla. I will certainly try my best to make it.” They said their goodbyes and waved farewell to each other. Yasmine took a deep breath and gathered up her courage. She couldn’t just not go home. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to learn about Monty and what happened in the past. She was more afraid that she wouldn’t be able to keep her feelings in check if she did.

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That night, the movie ended awkwardly, and she realized that she was quickly developing a small crush on the ghost. But it seemed that Monty had no such desires. It all made her so flustered that she could hardly bear to be around him anymore, which in turn made her sad because she loved spending time with the ghost.

There was no sense sitting there and fretting about it anymore, though. She had to face the music sooner or later. So she left work as quickly as she could, not even realizing someone had been trying to talk to her as she left. Her hard focus was on getting home while blocking everything else out.

When she pulled up to her home, she had another moment of self doubt that she could handle what was inside. She looked over at the moderately sized home, she spotted the satelite dish on the top of the roof. It seemed that the internet people had made their way out today and set up a link so she would get at least some signal out here in the boonies. Of course, she couldn’t get fiber internet like in the city, so it would be a process of getting used to subpar internet speeds. But that wasn’t what was important right now. Her brain just wanted something else to focus on.

As Yasmine got out of her car and walked up to the front door, the smell of something slightly spicy caught her nose. When she opened the door, the scent of chilies and heavily seasoned meat filled the air. The further inside and closer to the kitchen she got, the stronger it became. To her surprise, Monty was making none other than tacos.

“Oh, hey there. I didn’t hear you come in. Dinner is almost done, " he said, giving her a soft smile. Yasmine was a bit stunned at this development and had to ask.

“You are making Tacos? Where did you learn to make tacos?”

“Oh, from the back of this can of beans.” He said, holding up an empty can of black beans and turning to show off the small recipe. “Do you not like tacos? I can always make something else if you don’t?” Yasmine, of course, shook her head from side to side rapidly.

“No, no, I love Tacos. I’m just a bit surprised to see you making them.” Unable to hold back a small laugh, the tension that had been so suffocating vanished just like that.

“That's good. You will have to tell me how it tastes. I have never had a taco before. They look interesting, " he said as he built one for her with all the fixings. Taking the plate with the single taco on it, she looked around for a moment.

“Need something?” he asked as he was making another.

“Yeah, do you know where you put the hot sauce?” Yasmine had inherited her father's spice tolerance and loved spicy foods.

“Oh, yeah, I think so.” Monty quickly floated over to a high cabinet and opened it, pulling out a bottle of brownish-red liquid with a label that read, “Inferno Wrangler.” and the picture of a bull's head that was made of fire. It was a locally made hot sauce and seemed to be very popular, given how empty the shelf was. Then again, everything that was locally made tended to be more popular with the people of this town. So, she wanted to give it a shot and venture away from her usual Tabasco kick.

He handed her the bottle, and she happily cracked the seal before tipping it upside down and giving one end of the taco a good amount of the hot sauce. Monty stared on without any real worries. He knew about hot sauce but never really used it, so he had no memories of the taste. So, as he watched Yasmine take a good-sized bite of her taco, he picked up the bottle and read the ingredients.

“Water, vinegar, salt, Jalapeno, Habanero, Capsicum chinense… huh, these are some weird ingredients.” Looking back at Yasmine, he noticed her face was turning a bit red and her eyes started to water slightly, but she kept chewing before finally swallowing. With a small cough, she spoke up, setting the taco down.

“Cough…We uhh…cough, cough, we don't happen to have any milk left, do we?” she said with a weak smile, beads of sweat starting to drip down her forehead and run off her nose.

“Uhhh, no. I used the last of the quart of milk you bought earlier in the week. Are you…alright?” he asked cautiously. Her face was almost completely red now, and she was actively crying.

“I will be okay, but…” Unable to finish her sentence, she rushed to the fridge and opened it, dropping to her knees and looking through the items inside. She knew that water or juice wouldn’t help. She needed something with dairy in it. Thankfully, she found something, but it wasn’t going to be pleasant. Grabbing a half empty container of heavy cream, she opened it and filled her mouth with the overly thick white fluid.

“Yasmine that’s not…” Monty started, but she looked at him with a stare that told him she knew exactly what she was doing. The intense, overpowering cream in her mouth was almost unbearable. It wasn’t even sweetened, so the taste was more fatty than anything. But that was what she needed. She swallowed what little she could force herself too at first, shivering as it felt thick running down her throat, but it soothed as it did, thankfully. Dribbles started to escape her lips and run down her chin. Monty started to feel like she shouldn’t be watching this, but he couldn’t look away at the sight for some reason.

When she finally got the last bit of heavy cream down her throat, she let out a soft gasp and attempted to catch her breath. She still felt extra warm, but the burning sensation died down a lot. Holding onto the fridge, she rested her head against the cool inside door.

“Are you alright Yazzie? You don’t look so good. Was there something wrong with the taco?” He asked, not really knowing the signs of overly spicy foods on a person. She shook her head and smiled weakly at him.

“No…no, the taco was great. It's just…the hot sauce was a bit much for me. God…I’m so warm.” She complained, pulling off the small suit jacket she wore to work and unbuttoning her blouse as quickly as possible. She basked in the cool from the open fridge where she sat in front on her knees.

Monty should have felt nothing. He should have taken in the sight of her in such a position as nothing. But instead, like a punch to the gut, it all came back. He quickly locked onto the damp soft looking flesh of her exposed cleavage that heaved as she panted for breath. But he knew that he was well suited for the job of cooling someone down.

“H-Here, let me help.” He offered as he floated closer to her, letting his lower half phase through the floor to be at level with her. Reaching out, he placed his hand on her forehead, the deep cold of his touch sapping away the heat brought on by the peppers in the hot sauce.

“Oh lord…thank you so much, Monty, you are the best.” She said quickly, leaning into him, draping her arms around his neck, and pressing herself into his ghostly form. The large orbs of her chest squished against him, and she buried her face against his cool neck. Monty hadn’t expected this, yet remained solid for her. Her intense heat flowed into him from her embrace. He couldn’t resist the temptation and wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him even closer.

“I’m…sorry.” Yasmine suddenly whispered to him. He shifted slightly to try and see her better.

“Huh? Why?” He asked almost as softly.

“For acting so strangely these last few days…I haven't really felt like myself. I know you don’t really see me how I see you. And I let my feelings get in the way of our friendship. So… I’m sorry.” Yasmine said, giving him a tight squeeze like he was going to vanish if she let go. “Please… don’t leave.”

Monty wasn’t entirely sure what she meant, but he had a good idea, so he gave her a good squeeze back.

“I’m not going anywhere, Yasmine, so please don’t worry. There is nothing you need to apologize for.” The two held each other until she started to shiver again, and he knew that she needed to let go for her own good. He gave her a small pat on the back, trying to signal for her to let go. But she refused while continuing to hold onto him.

“Please… just a bit longer.” She said quietly, her body shaking in his arms. He was no longer focused on the body parts pressing against him; he was now worried about her well-being. He couldn’t just go formless and let her crash to the floor. As much as it was against his better judgment, he nodded, his head brushing against hers, which was still nearly pressed into his neck.

“Fine… just a little longer.” He conceded, unable to say no to her. But, in the end, Monty had to say something again as her whole body started to convulse from the intense cold.

“Okay, Yasmine, that's enough, really you are going to catch a…” When he finally pulled her away, he noticed that her eyes were closed and that her whole face had turned pale blue. “Damn it, Yasmine!” He growled.