My Immortal Phantom

The Rose

Chapter Four : The Rose

As a pre-teen, I always had this fantasy of waking up next to the man I loved; he be smiling, just waiting for my waking. It was stupid, but it dazzled me into daydreams that I couldn't help but keep going.

When I awoke the morning after the day I met Ember, my angel was lying next to me.

It wasn't smiling like in my fantasy, but it was close enough and I actually loved that moment. I'm pretty sure that was the moment that I started to fall in love.

"Hello," he whispered gently.

I think he's bipolar. I mean, he tried to kill me, and now he's being all Mr. Nice Guy?

"Hi," I murmured with a smile.

The sun was barely shining through the window, and I realized that I'd actually slept until daylight. This was very unusual for my weekdays. Was it Saturday? Had my week really slipped away from me?

"You almost woke up earlier," he explained, as if he'd been reading my mind. "But I got you back to sleep because it was an insane time to awake. It wasn't even five o'clock yet."

I stared at him blankly. This wasn't really how my fantasy went...in my fantasy the guy was not a scary stalker angel...

"Alrighty then..." I babbled, perplexed.

He just continued to grin. "I'm sorry about the other night," his soothing British accent hummed.

"You mean when you tried to kill me?" I asked uneasily.

It only nodded. "Yeah, I mean, I just get out of control sometimes..."

"Okay, well, I, um, don't really know what to say..."

"Say you'll forgive me?" he pleaded with heartsick eyes.

"O-o-okay," I stammered.

He smiled, pulling me into his arms. I hadn't had a boyfriend since junior high, so I didn't really know how this went. I decided to let him lead me.

The sound of what was seemingly ten thousand fists filled the silence. In reality, is was Ella, my sister.

"Sissie, wake up!" she shouted simutaneously with the suddenly loud alarm clock, which I had set to play Red Sam by Flyleaf. I pressed the snooze button, yelled at Ella to go away, and returned to my angel to see...

He was gone. In his place was a white rose, and it may have only been a trick of the light, but I could have sworn that for a split second it was on fire.