Being dead was confusing, it was depressing, it was difficult and so many other things. He remembered thinking before that it would have been fun if the afterlife would have been how it was shown in movies like<i> Beetlejuice</i>and the<i>Nightmare Before Christmas</i>, with that creepy, cooky but fun atmosphere where anything seemed possible. But the afterlife wasn't like that at all, it was much sadder and lonelier than he could have ever imagined. Or if it was something similar to the way it was depicted in movies he sure hadn't seen it yet.<br/><br/>Was Eric really a ghost, though? Ghosts couldn't touch people, could they? Or at least not in the way he had touched his sister, and how she had touched him back. Did that mean he was more like a zombie or some other type of undead? Well, he didn't smell any rotting flesh so maybe that was unlikely, and he did feel somewhat weightless, but he was unsure if that was true or if it was just his imagination. Just what exactly was he? He took the chip offered to him, placed it into his mouth, and indeed he was able to eat it, he could even taste it, chew it and swallow it, though where the ground-up chip was going was beyond him. Again, just what was he?<br/><br/>"I-I know..." he replied softly when Caillen had informed him that he could look at her. He knew that he could but it was hard in a way, and for many reasons, one of which being that whenever he looked at her now he flashed back upon the brief glimpse he had caught of her nakedness just minutes ago, though he did try to force such thoughts from his head. When she mentioned him returning to his room he shook his head slowly. Going back to his room would be too hard just yet, there was too much of him still there and things he didn't want to see, things that might just cause him to break down from his already fractured state. He was glad that Caillen had convinced their parents to leave his room alone for the time being but he also knew that it wouldn't be good for any of them to dwell on the past, and it would only keep the memory of his death fresh in everyone's mind. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.<br/><br/>"I miss you, too," he admitted softly. He still found it hard to look her in the eye. "More than anyone else." The hug she gave him felt warm and soothing and it brought a small smile to his lips, and in return his own arms slipped around her back. The siblings embraced each other, comforted each other in whatever way they could, even in such an awkward circumstance. When Caillen had placed her face against his neck a shiver of electric delight shot up his spine and made is body tremble-- it was a pleasant experience, and it felt so familiar, too, though he couldn't figure out why. All he knew was that he didn't want her to stop, whether that was right or wrong.<br/><br/>It was sad to hear about what Caillen thought about her relationship with their parents, and though perhaps it was partly true, at least in the aspect that she was quite different from their staunch and conservative parents, but to think that they didn't care about her was untrue. He shook his head again. "Mom and dad love you, Caillen. They love you so much, they just don't always know how to show it," he told her, pulling her a little closer against his body. While she began to trace the scar upon his chest his body trembled pleasurably again and he couldn't help but mutter a soft "mmm". The scar was a mark of stupidity from when he was a child and had gotten it after falling off of his bike when he was young and was trying to perform a stunt he'd seen on television. Obviously the stunt didn't go well and this scar that reached from just below his right nipple to his naval was his award for being a foolish kid. "Neither of us fit their idea of the perfect children, we've always been much more... adventurous than they are. But they love us. They love you. And I love you... I adore you, I always have..."<br/><br/>Did he remember anything about his death? That was a good question. So much of that was a blur-- so much of his life was a blur-- and despite his best efforts he recall he could not and could only shake his head once again in response. But he also wondered if he really wanted to know about his death, he was afraid of what he might hear. But he was curious, too... "I don't remember anything about how I died," he admitted while he took in a slow, deep breath to inhale the sweet scent of his sister's flesh. "I don't remember a lot of things about my life, actually..."