You should do a ghost!Laurens thing.
Philip’s fingers roamed the ivory keys, creating a familiar melody that echoed through the large room. He knew the song well and didn’t need to look at his music to play it, so he let his eyes drift closed. He jumped in shock when he felt a weight over his shoulder, it was almost as if someone was touching him but… not. He stopped playing and looked around. When he found nothing out of the ordinary near by, he brushed his shoulder off and returned his attention to the piano. He felt the weight again. A murmuring, wailing, perhaps even could be described as a moan, in any case it was a sound that penetrated the comfortable melody and it was completely out of the ordinary.
“What?” He muttered to himself.
“I said, ‘that sounds nice’!” A voice returned, it was hoarse and resembled in sound to when someone blew bubbles into a glass of water through a straw. “I’m sorry,” It spoke again, “I haven’t said anything to anyone in a while.” Philip squinted at a sort of shimmering that had appeared next to him, he began to notice more distinguished features- a freckled nose, a curly ponytail, a military uniform that Philip recognized from the depths of his fathers closet. Philip remembered how his father would tear up whenever he tried to ask about it, something about that uniform would strike a sort of sadness into him that nothing else could. Philip watched as the figure scratched the back of its neck nervously.
“Oh my god.” He jumped up from the piano bench, it’s legs scraping across the floor.
“Don’t be scared!” The human-esque shimmering said urgently. “I’m not going to hurt you… I couldn’t if I wanted to.” Philip scanned the figure, more of its features becoming clear, most prominently a glimmering smile.
“I’m not scared.” Philip said, straightening his posture and puffing out his chest. The figure chuckled,
“You’re just like your father.” It said, “I’m John by the way. John Laurens.”
“I’m a ghost. In case you were wondering. I didn’t die in this uniform, but in most of my best memories I was in it, I was shot in a gunfight in South Carolina,” John poked his side where he remembered being shot, “ouch! Anyway, that’s about all you need to know. Questions?”
“You-You knew my dad?” Philip asked,
“He didn’t ever mention me?” John questioned, looking a little hurt.
“He doesn’t like to tell stories about the war.” Philip said.
“Really? That man thrived on the war when I was with him.” John shook his head sentimentally. “Maybe something happened after I died.” He wondered aloud,
“Or maybe,” Philip started, contemplating the thought himself, “Maybe what happened was that you died… Were you two close?”
“We were closer than close.” John smiled, remembering his best moments with Alexander, “I still can’t believe he never talked about me.”
“I think it makes him too sad.” Philip’s brow furrowed, in deep thought, he was beginning to warm up to this ghost. “I used to ask him about his uniform” Philip pointed to John’s jacket, “when I was younger, but he’d always tear up.” John raised his eyebrows, “Here, come with me.” Philip walked to the door, gesturing for John to follow him.
Alexander sat at his desk, consumed in his writing, spectacles balanced on his nose. “Dad?” Philip poked his head into the door frame,
“Yes?” Alexander put down his quill and looked up at his son. Philip waited as John walked into the doorway next to him. Laurens grinned widely, doing nothing to stop the full laughter that bubbled up from his chest,
“Alex!” He said.
“Did you want to speak to me?” Alexander asked, eyes still focused on Philip.
“You can’t see him?” Philip said, taken aback.
“See who? Philip are you alright?” Alexander said, worry etching into his voice as he got up to press a hand to Philip’s forehead.
“No. Dad, nevermind. I’m fine.” Philip swatted his father’s hand away and glanced at John, who’s smile was now a heartbroken frown. Philip tried to place a hand on his arm comfortingly but found that it only glided through and caused a shiver to run up his arm.
“You know I hate it when you call me ‘son’.” Philip rolled his eyes. However heartbroken he was, John couldn’t help from smiling at Philip’s words just like his father.
“You are my son.” Alexander said.
“Nevertheless, did you… did you know a man named John Laurens?” Philip asked. Alexander straightened and frowned.
“John Laurens?” He prompted for clarification. Philip nodded.
“Yes.” Alexander said, “We fought in the war together… it could be said that um… that I loved him.”
“I love you too.” John whispered from beside Philip.
“He died right after you were born.” Alexander looked to the floor, working to hold back a flood of tears.
“Loved him like…?”
“Yes.” Alexander said after a moment’s contemplation. Philip raised his eyebrows in shock and turned to look at John, who was staring at Alexander with tears in his own eyes. “Well, why do you ask?”
“Umm… no reason, I’m going to go back to the piano.” Philip said quickly.
“Philip, where did you hear that name?” Alexander asked, more insistent.
“Um, mom mentioned him.” Philip lied, “Briefly.”
“Oh.” Alexander added quietly. Philip turned and walked back toward the door down the hall. John took one last look at Alexander before finally following him.