Hopeful Soul: A Phantom Story

Chapter Thirty-Two.

ERIK:

I awoke to the next day in Christine's bed, which threw me off quite a bit. How did I even sleep in the bed? Where did she rest? Where was she?

The bath was draining and I assumed she must have been in it, so I rose from the bed, though it was difficult. My back cracked in various places and I took deep breaths, walking down the hall. Christine stepped out of the washroom, her curly hair hung loosely down her back, wearing a red gown that clung tightly to every curve on her body. I had completely forgotten that I bought that gown and she smiled at me cheerily, "It is more snug than I originally thought, but I hope you will not mind."

"No," I gulped, reaching out to bravely touch her waist - the appearance of such womanly features turned my face scarlet, "Erik does- I do not mind."

She giggled, which was a sound that set me on fire, her fingers softly touched my cheek and she came closer. I could feel her breath on my chest before she spoke, "Why must you speak in the third person?"

"I-" speaking in the third person helped me step out of my body for a moment and let me rest from my own self, for I couldn't stand who I was - but how was I supposed to explain that to her, "It is a defense mechanism, I suppose."

She giggled again and I followed her into the red room where I realized the clean stone floor, thinking of how long she had been awake. She had cleaned everything and I felt somewhat bad considering I created the terrible mess, "Now, my dear," I sighed as I sunk into my armchair and she knelt in front of me, "you did not have to clean that up."

"It is only customary," she said with a smile, softly touching my hands, "How are your hands feeling?"

"Better. But only that," her hands were warm to mine and the difference was soothing, "How of you? How do you fair?"

She looked up to me with a soft smile, then turned her head down to Ayesha. My girl had rubbed against her breast and I found it very sweet. Ayesha was not akin to her at first, but now they were practically sisters. Christine gently pet her head and Ayesha purred at her before jumping into my lap, "Well," she nodded, "I feel well."

I glanced at her finger, which wore my ring, and took her hand, "Your finger still bears my ring," she nodded, "I hope you will forgive me for the last time I forced it upon you."

"What are you speaking of?"

With a soft smile I brought her hand to my lips, twisting the ring around her finger, "I was hoping that you would accompany me through the rest of my pitiful existence," she looked to me confused, gently grasping my hands, "That, perhaps, you would consider being my bride."

She was silent and that brought out the fearful side of me. What was I thinking? She wouldn't actually consider marrying a man like me, "Of course," but perhaps, she had a change of heart.

"Y- you would marry me?"

"Erik, I have no one else, why wouldn't I marry you?"

"What about your boy?"

She became silent again - perhaps something terrible had happened. Anything bad could have occurred and I would not have known, "I saw something I shall never forget. I know you would never do what he did and that's why I accept you."

"What of your position? Aren't you worried of what others will say of you?"

She shook her head and watched as Ayesha leapt from my lap, "If I were, I wouldn't have come down here. I knew you were more than my friend for some time, but not to what extent."

More than a friend? It was an honor to be considered more than friendly, especially with a woman as beautiful as Christine, but could this mean that she was developing love for me? I suppose chances had to be taken and knelt on the floor in front of her, caressing the smooth skin of her face. She pressed her cheek into my bandaged fingers, then brought each of my hands to her lips and finally to her waist - a very bold move on her part, though I didn't question it.

"Erik, you are trembling terribly."

I glanced down to my hands and, indeed, she was right. I shook worse than she had when she first saw my face, the only difference being that I was frozen in place. I couldn't move, for my body wouldn't allow it. I was slave to desires that kept me waiting, secretly begging, for much more than what I had the privilege of receiving, "I- I suppose I am."

She smiled, kissing my forehead like a mother. I boldly rested my head to her breast and she shivered at first, which was expected, but soon began to stroke my head. I touched the end of her sleeves which had been finished with a fine, white French lace. Sitting up and looking down at her eyes again was something that pushed my desire for more - she looked so lovely in the light of the fireplace, "Christine?"

"Yes, Erik?"

What I was to ask for would probably end this whole charade. I was going to destroy what little of a relationship we had with my request, "Well, it is rather bold of me to ask and I hope that I won't destroy what you have agreed to with it, but I was hoping for... for something a little more."

"I don't know what you are referring to, Erik."

"I," I was cursing myself for even thinking of this idea, though I inched closer - closer to the point that our noses, or what would be my nose if it existed, practically touched, "I was hoping for a kiss."

She laughed a little, resting her hands on my shoulders, "I just kissed you."

"No. Not chaste, but a true kiss. On...on..."

"The lips?"

Her lashes fluttered, her cheeks flushed and her lips remained rose red. I nodded and focused on her plump lips as she inched closer - we almost touched, "Oh, Erik," she said, wrapping her arms round my neck, "why are you so humble?"

Her lips touched mine in a rage of fiery bliss. Nothing on the planet could compare to this feeling - love filled every inch of my body. I pet the sides of her waist, but felt my heart beat speed rapidly. Even with my eyes closed, my senses were leaving me...