[Music: Altar By Saint Vice]
I felt a hand grazing my chest and a heat transmitting to my body like the warmth of a fla. The touch was delicate, fingertips tracing every curve.
Goosebumps rose on my skin, my senses picking up along with the smooth flow of fingers. A breath on my neck shadowed, lips tickling my skin with tenderness. A leg brushed over mine to keep closer.
I opened my eyes and t a mass of red hair fanned out on my chest in a srising sight.
Catherine.
Her finger mindlessly traced my chest, taking her ti like she was stroking her brush against a canvas.
She’s here. With .
I sank my hand into her hair; it was full, just as I rembered it, and having her silky strands between my fingers made my body co alive like a live wire.
The pulse in my veins humd so fast along with my heartbeat, putting in a situation where it seed as if I’d stop breathing, but I would gladly drop dead because nothing else could replace this mont.
Catherine moved her head, and the mont her eyes t mine, the fog was gone, and I was grounded deeply in this perfect movent. The scent of her flared my nostrils, the intense heat of her body engulfing mine like a cocoon.
She pushed her body upwards, giving a good view of her tits, those mouthwatering nipples making my throat go dry. She pressed them into my chest, her lips inches away from mine.
"Honey."
I exhaled sharply as I pressed my lips against hers. There were so many things I wanted to tell her, so many, but words felt like half-baked promises, the only way I could communicate my feelings was by pouring my everything into that one kiss.
I have practiced for the past few years to be able to voice out what I couldn’t. It was a hard exercise since words didn’t seem to have much aning to , but to Catherine, they did, so it was worth every failure and success.
I don’t fucking care if I have to stutter every word to communicate how much she ans to .
I held her close, making sure she didn’t slip away or even think about leaving now she’s here. I hoisted her up, sitting her on my lap as our kiss got more passionate.
I broke apart from her moist lips, dragging mine to her chin down to her neck, where I gave a clean lick to her neck, tracing my tongue up and down before shoving them back in her mouth, intertwining our tongues like a knot that held the invisible connection.
The more I kissed her, the more I could feel her slipping away, and God, I tried to hold on as best as I could.
"Catherine..." Panic filled my voice as I tried to pin my nails into her skin, but I couldn’t feel her anymore.
She was fading, and all I could do was fucking watch.
I could hear the sharp echo of my breathing, and when I opened my eyes, I was already sitting up, but Catherine was nowhere to be seen, yet I looked to the empty side of my bed in desperation as if she could magically pop up.
I ran a hand through my hair, feeling like I was in pieces. My sheets were soaked with nothing but sweat and a far too uncomfortable erection that hurt so much my teeth clenched.
It was a dream. A damn dream. I could still sll her, the ghostly feel of her fingers still tickled my skin, and hell, I could hear her voice close to my ear.
This was becoming more torturous. In a normal sense, the fantasy of her should have lagged given the passage of ti, but it had gotten stronger to the point I could feel her. Even now... like an invisible thread was sewn into my chest.
I dragged my palm down my face before collapsing back on the bed, an arm brace behind my head.
I gritted my teeth, still trying to convince myself that it was real, that for a split mont Catherine was in my grasp. The more fantasy I had, the more this reality felt like... nothing, as if the entire world had no life anymore, and I’m stuck in it.
I sat up, took the covers off , and got out of bed, going straight to the bathroom for a cold shower. I reached for the controls and turned the dial, and cold water rained on from head to toe.
I stayed under, gaze leveled until I pressed my arms against the wall, feeling pent-up frustration break free.
What kind of a man am I?
I can’t even find the woman who holds my heart... I didn’t know which hurt more, my regrets or my incompetence. Both hurt so badly; the pulse from my chest wound was still as fresh as when I was out of surgery.
It’s been five damn years.
Five years without her, five years in starvation, five years without any hope of ever seeing her again.
My phone rang, and my eyes moved at speed. Nico. I stepped out of the shower, dripping wet.
I grabbed my phone and picked up the call. "24 hours were hours ago."
"I found her, boss."
A feeling washed over . "Where?"
"There’s sothing you need to see."
I heard a chi from my laptop, and I tapped the key, scrolling to what he sent, double-tapped, and a video ca up.
"I was able to get my hands on them. I checked the records too, there was um..." He cleared his throat. "...Frequent visits."
It looked like the hallway of a hospital. Was she ill?
"When was this?"
"Five years ago. Six months after her disappearance."
My phone slipped out of my grip when Catherine stepped into view, and the unmistakable bump beneath her dress stole the air from my lungs.
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