-

There was hot breath on my neck. I didn't want to turn around.
Slowly, unclenching my fists, I let out the pent up air I hadn't realised I'd been holding and closed my eyes a moment.
'You know... You're going to have to acknowledge my presence at some point. Why not get it over with?'
His voice was low but clear, and sounded closer than was comfortable.
I turned.
He was slouching directly in front of me, gracefully at complete ease. His black hair hung in droves across his forehead, achieving a wonderfully can't-be-bothered artful look. His eyes. A clear, unforgiving grey.
'Hello Samuel.' I managed to speak in a blasé manner as I watched him with what I hoped looked like disdain or at least disapproval. 'Back from the dead are we?'
He smiled slightly: the merest upward-tilting of one corner of his lips.
'I know you're mad at me for not telling you that I was alive-'
I lost my cool.
'MAD? SAM? MAD? I'M FURIOUS. YOU DIED. YOUR MOTHER TOLD ME. YOUR FATHER TOLD ME.' I let out another surge of air in a puff. 'Yes. I am mad. Very. Now go away, go back to being dead. I don't want to become best friends with someone so deceiving. Okay? Go.' I turned my back to him and made to leave.
'Wait-' he caught my wrist. 'I couldn't tell you because they were still after me- the people who killed your dad. I'm sorry. I don't expect you to forgive me.'
'Good,' I sniffled, yanking my wrist back to myself and walking away.
'Because I'm not going to'.