ghost of you

chapter 1:

the house stood still. it was the perfect, quiet-time that the house was often found in-- the state of drowsy intoxication one felt before slipping off to bed for the night.

she stood at the sink, hands in the water, fumbling for the drain-plug. her long black hair fell over her ears in the way that annoyed her (especially because her hands were wet and occupied at the moment). a heavy sigh filled the now cavernous kitchen around her. a hand slowly moved the hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear tenderly. a slow smile crept over her lips, cracking the annoyance previously painted there. his arms encircled her waist; she could feel how very solid his chest and stomach were as they pressed against her back.

slowly, he swayed, humming gently in her ear. it was slightly off-key, but it was soothing and sweet. she closed her eyes and leaned back against him, hands still in the dishwater. his lips found her neck, grazed and pressed softly to her earlobe. it tickled, but this was one of her favorite ways to be kissed.

together, they swayed slowly to the tune of his humming. she was content enough to purr. he whispered softly, interrupting his own melody for a moment. his voice was deep, thickened by the weight of his beautiful words. she lifted her head slightly back, giving him better access to her ear, that slow smile drifting to a lazy yawn.

"come to bed," he whispered sweetly.

she allowed herself a nod and a glance toward the clock. 11:11.

"make a wish," she slurred, half-yawn-half-sigh.

he closed his eyes tightly and kissed her temple. she felt his grip tighten slightly around her waist as he contemplated. he leaned in only a bit more, lips grazing her ear as he spoke softly.

"i wish i weren't gone."



she heaved a great gasp inward. the intake of breath brought her back to reality, standing at the sink with hands sunken in the murky water. tight-lipped, she watched the water drain along with the memories of him. she closed her eyes again, shaking her head back to reality. she stole a glance to the clock on the wall. 11:11.

"make a wish," she sighed, half-frustration-half-fatigue.

she watched the last of the water drain. the feel of his arms had not grown feeble over the years. she could have sworn she had caught a hint of his scent drifting into her nostrils as it always had. she sunk to the kitchen floor, back pressed against the cupboard door under the sink. with knees to her chest, she allowed her head to fall forward to them. her arms encircled her knees and she broke into great, body-wracking sobs.

"i wish you weren't gone."


and she did. she wished with all of her being that he hadn't been gone so long...or even at all. but that didn't make everything better. in fact, that only made things worse and worse as the days wore on. days blended to weeks, weeks to months, months to the years that now hung over her head like a crown of thorns.

it was through no fault of her own; his leaving. this she knew, but why did it hurt so much after all these years, still?



to be continued...