The Rain | Cricky [C]

Chapter 3 | Witch

The house was quiet when I got home. Too quiet. Most lights were turned off, minus those that usually stayed on around the house. A candle burned on the table in the entry way. I cautiously leaned over to blow it out, but paused as I saw the frame it's light dawned upon. Black metal and glass wrapped around a precious photo.

Ghost and I on the top of a Farris wheel, entwined in each other's arms. That night I remember we felt on top of the world. No one could tear us down because we were so damn lively and content. Those were back in the days he'd listen when I spoke. Now, his love has faded and strengthened in inconstant intervals. Some days, he treats me like a king. Others, I feel like the town fool.

I blew out the candle. I was sick of looking back at stable times. Most maids and other staff were asleep by now. It was rather late, and I expect Ghost is still up. He prefers to work on the same schedule as a vampire. Surely enough, when I reached the bedroom, I heard him in the bathroom. He stood near the outlet close to the bathroom's door as he was bent over blow drying his hair. Ghost flipped his hair back and ruffled the underside of it as his eyes caught me walk inside.

While he finished up, I sat down on the bed to take my boots off. The silence relaxed as he turned off his hair dryer and unplugged it from the wall, wrapping the cord around it. I couldn't help myself from stealing a peak at his ass when he leaned over to put the dryer away under the sink. He was absolutely gorgeous. All he wore was black panties, laced along the edge, and an oversized white band tee. Typical of my little spirit, it was a Rob Zombie shirt off the Astro-Creeps album.

He did look radiant. Despite our fighting, I still saw beautify in all he was. His curvaceous body is the only one I could picture in my bed. When he walked, it was like he was stepping on clouds. He was so light on his feet and moved as gracefully as a ballerina. His skin held the softness and complexion of snow, contrasted against silky raven black hair. How could I not pour my heart into such a phenomenal, rare creature?

I set my boots inside the closet. Then I moved over to the dresser to take off my jewelry. Not a word had even been attempted between the two of us. I wasn't all too sure if he was still angry, but I was taking his silence as contempt. Ghost's hands gently pressed against my lower back, pushing up the sides of my spine slowly. I set my coffin shaped ring in the jewelry box, and rested my engagement ring on a silver tray next to it. My hands relaxed against the wood atop the dressed. I embraced his tender touch, inhaling the sweet scene of his present. He smelled like angel food cake mixed with lusty roses. His fingers slipped under the collar of my coat and he began to pull it off my shoulders.

Ghost threw my leather trench on the bed behind us. Despite our underlying tension, this moment was oddly serene. He ran his fingers along my biceps. I shivered from the raw passion floating in the air. Ghost brought his hands under my arms, wrapping them around my torso. He rested his head against my back.

"I missed you." He spoke quietly, the wisp of a breeze in his voice.

Taking my right hand, I found his, weaving our fingers together. "I missed you, too." I replied, keeping my response at that. That's all I felt was safe to say right now. Any word could leave to a bigger fight and I already felt the weight of the world on my shoulder from our current prolonging argument.

"I don't like when we fight." He said, "I'm sorry I let my stubbornness get the best of me. I just don't want to lose you."

I understood that already, but previously he had only chose to tell me that angrily. It's hard to have a peaceful debate with someone who only wants to yell. This has become a predictable pattern for Ghost though. He gets fucking pissed initially. I'll leave for an extended period of time, and he'll realize he can't live without me. Once I come back, he's lovingly telling me what he wants and searching for compromise. It's unhealthy for us to continue this chain, yet I still do it for the same reason he calms himself; We love each other.

I turned myself around in his grasp to face him. In the dim lighting of a few candles and low lights, his eyes were like a silver honeypot. Deep inside them, I saw the passion that burned light a bonfire.

"You won't lose me." I reassured my beauty as my hands rested upon his hips, "I love you and no one else. I never will love anyone like I love you. What I've decided to do, I'm doing simply because I do love you."

"I know," He pout and let his eyes fall lower on my chest. Ghost seeped a slow breath, "I love you too. I just am so scared of waking up and falling asleep without you."

"You never will." I responded and titled my head inward to kiss him.

Ghost straightened his back to reach up to me. Our lips touched gently. I ran my hands up his sides, under his shirt, letting some of the fabric get caught in my fingers. He was so delicate to me. As we parted, my lips felt cold away from his. He quivered and balled up my shirt in his fist.

"Chris," He gently whimpered, "Please make love to me."

I gravitated towards kissing him again. It was a request I could easily fill. Without hesitation, he began to unbutton my jeans. I pushed him back as his dominance once again frustrated me. Ghost looked deep into my eyes with evil intent behind his. He slowly pulled at his lip with his teeth and harmonized a moan. His hands teasingly pulled at his shirt. He knew how to get under my skin. Ghost pulled his shirt up over his head, revealing his beautiful breasts. They were nothing more than trick makeup and a good pushup bra, but damn was it hot.

He had me right where he wanted me; Gripping the dresser behind me as I fought my inner demons. The demons won. I grabbed Ghost aggressively and he shook a moan from the new expression of power. My hands practically ripped his bra open once I found the clasp. He let it fall, leaving his perfect figure in his underwear.

"You're fuckin' mine." I growled.

I shoved him backwards with as much force as I could put forth without being abusive. Ghost stumbled until he fell on the bed. He had the work of the Devil painting his expressions. I could care less because sin outlined his body that I wanted to ravish. Ghost was a witch in the way he cast his spells upon me. He destroys every part of me that ever thought I never needed anyone. His words curse my cold heart into trusting, and his kiss lures me into his trap deeper. I should burn him for the way he tricks me. Instead I fuck him until neither of us can feel our faces.