Her.

Chapter XVI

"I promise," Erik said solemnly, slipping the letter into his vest for safe-keeping away from Haya.

Before he completely faded away, Henry whispered to Haya, "Don't let me stop you from loving."

And soon enough, Henry Max Beauregard lay dead in his own home, a daughter and friend there to grieve the horrific loss. His body turned pure white and very silent, no longer did his chest rise and fall with difficulty, for it had ceased movement. There was no longer the happy presence of a middle-aged man anywhere within the home.

Haya couldn't help but cry for a good several days, her eyes turning a deep red from all of sobbing she participated in. The house felt empty as her sob's echoed through it, and her father never was there to comfort her....

But the strangest thing happened the night before the funeral.

As Haya was crying herself to sleep one night, she found that sleep just wouldn't come even with the crying. So, she got up and went out to the sitting room, her quiet feet padding on the cold floors with herself wrapped in a blanket and a robe. Haya sat on the sofa and lit a candle, only to be brutally shocked when she saw Erik's figure in the sitting chair... Drinking.

"Erik?" She asked quickly, wondering how many he'd had, though she didn't voice that specific wonder out loud.

He flashed a very shallow smile before answering her, "This is only my first one... I haven't had the heart to drink it without Henry to share it with me."

Haya took a very happy inhale, smiling heartily for the first time after her father's death. It was a melancholy thought, but she was glad he wasn't drowning his sorrows.

Erik had stayed in the Beauregard household to watch over Haya and to make sure that she stayed alive. He made her meals, as long as she would let him, and he kept up the place. It wasn't a very demanding task, for Haya spent a good amount of time crying more than she did anything else.

"I don't think I can sleep," Haya told him while shaking her head, "Tomorrow-"

"You need to look well-rested, Haya."

"I can't! I cannot sleep while father sleeps for an eternity. Erik," Haya stuttered, and before she could continue what she was to say, the masked-man came up to her and wrapped his bony arms around her. He encompassed the girl, pulling her against him as she cried.

Haya reciprocated the hug, holding onto him, and slipping her own arms around his waist. Immediately she calmed down, her breathing steadying as she felt Erik's body pressed against hers.

But, this wasn't the strange occurrence... It was when Erik lifted Haya into his arms and began to carry her bridal-style to her room, gently lying her down in her bed. And without a single question or offer, Erik slipped under the covers with her, pulling her close to him.

"Sleep well, Haya," he commanded, running his hand over her curls continuously until she completely succumbed to the much-needed sleep. Sleep that was induced by the man she loved, holding her as though they were lovers.

And she even awoke in his arms.

Haya was gently fluttering her eyes open when Erik pulled her into him, his arms wrapped around her waist. Her head rested perfectly in his chest, much more muscular than she ever would have surmised by the looks of him. Her forehead tickled from his soft breathing, and her hands were pressed gently into his chest as were her head.

She felt wonderful.

And then she remembered her father's funeral was that day.

Taking great caution, Haya removed herself from Erik and started to get dressed, right in front of his sleeping form. She cared not if he awoke, but she guessed it was a good thing he didn't. Haya put on her best black dress and tied it tight. Her hands easily found her hair and placed it into the strictest style she could think of. The persistent curls weren't the greatest for up-dos she discovered soon enough, so Haya covered her hair with a black scarf.

After her outfit was done, she looked at Erik for a quick couple of minutes, wondering just what had possessed him to bring her into his arms and let her stay there. After a while of uncertainty and creepily staring at the poor masked-man, Haya went out to make them both a meal.

When breakfast was done, Erik emerged perfectly suited for the day from his own room. He sat down at Haya's side and ate silently, for the night previously would never be spoken between the two.

Eventually, they left, still not a word spoken about what had occurred. They rode to the cemetery with the same silence, and arrived at the precise time to watch and mourn at Henry's funeral.

Haya rested a rose on her father's casket before he was laid to rest, and soon enough, she was back home, feeling more empty than ever.

Her father was truly gone at that point, the funeral the final words to seal the fact that she wouldn't ever be with him until her own life ended.

Now parentless and amassing a huge fortune, Haya needed to find someone that fit her fancy and keep her company the rest of her life. She needed someone to love. Someone to love the way she couldn't love her family, and that meant that she would need to convince a man with her wealth and charms to stay with her... To marry her.

But she had a feeling the person she wanted to fill that tiny gap in her life, the masked-man she wished desperately to step into the position of husband, wouldn't want that. Even with her father's assumed blessing, Haya knew Erik would be resilient. She just hoped that she could convince him.