Through Phantom Eyes

“Christine?” My voice reverberated across the lake, and, as I stepped out from behind the pillar, she turned. “Erik!” she exclaimed and began running toward me. With her arms spread out from her sides and her gown billowing behind her, she resembled a radiant angel in flight. Her voice kept repeating my name until she slammed against my body, almost knocking me off my feet. She then buried her face in my chest, causing her words to muffle. “Erik! Oh! Erik!” At first, I was so stunned I could only stand there, but, then, I gladly wrapped my arms around her small, soft, frame, engulfing her. I closed my eyes, lowered my head, and smothered my face in the fragrance of her silky hair. “Christine! Ah, Christine,” I whispered. “I thought I would never see you again.” I felt light-headed, my knees became weak, and I could hardly breathe. I felt for sure I must be dreaming; otherwise, why would she be in my embrace? What I was experiencing couldn’t be happening, and, for a moment, I again thought I might be hallucinating. If I was, I didn’t want it to end. The feeling of her being back in my arms, basking in her sweet scent, was all too wonderful to end. It couldn’t be real—could it? “Erik. Oh, Erik,” she whispered. I struggled to open my eyes, although I didn’t want to. I didn’t want that feeling to end. I pulled her body so close to mine that our hearts could feel each other’s beats. Her hands were moving up and down my back and shoulders as were mine over hers. Oh, please don’t let this end, my heart pleaded loudly. She pulled her head away from my chest, looked up into my eyes, and murmured, “You’re alive. I was so afraid—afraid I would be too late. Thank God you’re still alive. I’m so thankful.” “So am I,” I responded softly. Then, not wanting to for fear I’d spoil the precious moments but knowing I needed to, I asked, “Why are you here? Where’s Raoul?” Her eyes appeared almost black in the soft light coming from my boat, and her lips so inviting as she answered, “I don’t want to talk about Raoul right now. There’s only you—only you and me. I need you to hold me, Erik.” I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and started to pull her close to my chest again, but she resisted me and pushed back away from me. I searched her eyes for answers to explain her curious actions, but all I saw were expressions of passion and love in those eyes as they moved across my masked face and lips. Bewildered, I frowned, as I continued to search her eyes and silent lips. I so wanted to touch them with my own, but, again, I feared doing anything that would spoil the moment. Therefore, with our lips silent and our eyes locked on each other’s, our bodies remained motionless, resembling two lifeless marble statues powerless under the sculpture’s hands. She stood on her toes and moved her face up closer to mine, causing my heart to beat faster. I tightened my jaw, resisting the temptation to close the gap between our lips. Then, with just a few soft words, I nearly lost all control. “Erik, please, kiss me.” “Ah, Christine,” I whispered and came close to succumbing to our mutual desires, but I couldn’t. I took her shoulders in my hands and moved her back. “Christine, wait! This isn’t right. Where’s Raoul? I thought you were on your honeymoon.” “What? No! Oh, no! There’s no Raoul right now and certainly no honeymoon,” she responded with a shake of her head. “I don’t care how much time you have left; I want to spend it all with you. I don’t care if it’s a month, week, day, or hour. I want to make memories with you that I’ll have for as long as I live. Now, Erik, will you please kiss me?” I was confused but something, somewhere deep inside me, took complete control of my actions, and I gave into my unprepared desires. Without giving any further thought about the boundaries of propriety or impropriety—or Raoul—I embraced her waiting lips with my own famished ones. Then five months of restraints were quickly broken through with the first feel of her lips pressed against mine—our first real kiss. All the floodgates opened, and the dam crumbled completely. The world started turning around me, causing the lone light in my boat to move in strange streams around us. I’d thought the feel of her lips on my forehead was exquisite, but the sensation of her lips on mine sent me far beyond my expectations. There aren’t words to describe the difference between the two feelings—there aren’t words. I felt like an explosion had gone off in my chest, and I couldn’t breathe. Feelings I couldn’t even dream of began to stir in me, feelings as old as time and, yet, like the first sunrise to me. My lifetime of wild fantasies couldn’t come close to comparing with the reality of our first real kiss. Everything in the world ceased to exist, and we alone were on the world’s stage—sharing the first expressions of our mutual love. Her body again melted against mine, and lightning bolts flashed through every nerve in my being. I was alive on an entirely different and wonderful new plain, swirling in a sea of passion. Our lips parted long enough for mine to move across her cheek and down her soft and sensuous neck. Then they moved to her tender décolletage that I’d only been able to admire from afar, and there they soaked up every tender morsel of her femininity. As the world turned around us, only the sound of our breathing could be heard in the blue mist surrounding the lake. I once more looked down into her dark eyes that were telling me she wanted all the same things I desired. She was giving herself to me without question, and I was completely prepared to take her for my own. I kissed her again and again, and I could feel every movement of her fingers as they traveled up and down the tense muscles in my back. One last time, I searched for that look of acceptance in her eyes, and it was there—just as clear as a cloudless sky. She smiled seductively, and, with anticipation surging through my veins, any questions or doubts about what we were doing evaporated completely. My lips explored every inch of her face, neck and shoulders, only taking a few seconds here and there from their feast to express my verbal love for her. Then, with my lips on her neck, she whispered against my ear the words that released any restraints I might have had left. “I’m yours, Erik. Take me.” The endless might of the stars and the relentless tides of the sea were powerless to halt my expressions of love. My hands and arms couldn’t hold enough of her. And if my own actions weren’t enough to carry me away, her hands moving all over my body backed up her request. If there was ever a time in my life when someone could have put a bullet in my brain or a knife in my back it would have been right then. I was completely under the control of the woman in my arms. I was lost with her touch—lost and yet found as never before in Christine’s warm and loving embrace. I grasped her waist and lowered us both gently to the ground, while repeating how much I loved her. The mist moved between us at the same time that her bare shoulders and back pressed against the cold stones, causing her to shiver and gasp. That visual of what was actually taking place helped what small amount of decency I had remaining in me to return, and I knew I didn’t want the joining of our souls to take place on that cold and filthy ground. Thankfully, my love for her spoke louder than my passion for her. If she were going to give herself to me, I wanted our union to be an honorable one in her eyes, with a ring and priest and all that went with it. It couldn’t be a few moments of hungry passion in that musty cellar. I had no use for a priest, I never had, but I knew she did, so I kissed her gently, rose up away from her, and tried to explain. “Not like this, Christine. I can’t treat you, my precious angel, like a common whore in a dark and foul alley.