Hopeful Soul: A Phantom Story

Chapter Thirty-Nine.

ERIK:

She is so gentle to me - stroking my back in order to remove my pains. Little did she know that by doing so she also pressed on scars that covered my yellow flesh. Though it was painful, she managed to loosen every muscle that had once been in a pain unbearable to this - even my arms and fingers were unknotted. Christine healed my entire form with her sweet, little hands and I gifted her with a kiss.

She smiled and removed my shoes, unknotting my feet and my legs, but becoming nervous the higher she went. I knew exactly why, as well, "I- I shall stop there."

It felt amazing. I did not want her to stop, but I respected her wishes - especially because of what we had to accomplish tonight. I pried open my pocket watch to check the time - nine o'clock. Christine grabbed a nightgown from her bag, then, and went into the water closet, so it seemed a good time for me to get comfortable as well.

I put the mask back on, since we would be trying something risky tonight, and began to remove the rest of my clothes. Standing in front of the mirror above the bed, in nothing but my drawers, I noticed how slender my body really was. I could see my ribcage perfectly, except for my stomach that slightly protruded due to the heal we had just ate, but realized I could not see my face in the mirror - not that it was bad. Tall and slender. I was everything I was not supposed to be, "Erik?"

"Wait a moment, Christine!"

I looked to the water closet door before feeling comfortable enough to put my night clothes on. As I grabbed Persian robes from my bag, I focused on the train's chug-chug to get dressed, "Alright. I am fine."

The nightgown she stepped out in made me blink a few times. The dressing gown she wore in the underground was nothing compared to this and she must have known that due to the blush staining her cheeks down to her chest. The white, lacey fabric went down to her ankles, yet her sleeves end at the fold of her arm and turned up slightly. It was cut in an angular fashion, where I could see the beginning of her bosom and I felt my cheeks singe as well, "Why do you have your mask on again?"

She whispered, resting her hand on my shoulder, "You would not want to see my face while we do... that."

She backed away with my notion, her face even more red. Could it be that she was already accustomed to my face and wanted to see it? No. It was only that she was still afraid of consummation. With a heavy sigh, I pulled her towards me for a kiss, but she went into a crying fit. Oh, poor girl. I had no idea how to calm her nerves other than soothing touch, "Christine, please."

I was practically begging for her affection. It was one thing to have me kiss and huddle her under my grasp, but to not have the same thing throw back to me made me feel unimportant - disposable, even, "If you are not going to give me affection in return, then this wedding night will be very difficult. Please, Christine," I felt sorry - sorry that this had to be done, "Please, I do not wish to hurt you. If you respond, it will hurt much less."

Her soft, brown eyes looked up to mine and I felt all she did - fear. She was simply afraid. But of what aspect? Of the act itself, or of me? I hoped she was not fearful of me, "Erik, I can't. I simply can't."

I brought her into my arms and scooped her up, laying beside her in the comfort of the purple bed. A tug on the gold rope next to me closed the curtains and we had a dark space of our own. Christine sniffled and I realized she had been crying, holding her even tighter to my body. We shared heat and I pulled up the blankets as I realized the snowfall outdoors - where we were traveling would be much colder than France.

Christine turned in my arms, facing towards me with that innocent gaze, "Snow," said she with a smile.

"Yes, my dear."