Summary: Dennis Rafkin doesn't like being touched, but with her, he just couldn't help himself.
Disclaimer: I don't own Thirteen Ghosts.
Author's Note: Rated M for obvious reasons. Not one of my best short stories, but I decided to post anyway :]
She stared down at him, tousled brunette hair flung over her left shoulder carelessly. She had been kissing his neck and chest in a seductive way that should have been driving him mad, but he was laying there silently.
"Dennis? Are you alright?"
She knew he had a 'thing' about being touched. In fact, if he could help it, he avoided being touched at almost any cost. She had been with him long enough to know that when he was touched it wasn't pretty. He went into epileptic-like fits and sometimes he cried. Once, when they were fifteen, she had hugged him for too long after they had been swimming together. It took her three hours to get him to stop crying, and when she had, he still didn't told her what was wrong.
Kids at their high school didn't like Dennis much. They thought he was a freak, and, indeed, Dennis was strange. But that did n't stop her from wanting to be with him. And she could, quite honestly, give a flying fuck about what they thought of him.
For that, he was grateful.
"Dennis."
"I'm fine," He replied, rolling over on top of her and kissing her fully for what seemed like the first time in the whole of their relationship. He knew it hadn't been, but this was different.
He pulled off the black t-shirt she had been wearing and threw it somewhere. He kissed down her body, and felt relief. Nothing bad was happening, not yet anyway. She tore off his olive green shirt, and threw it onto the floor beside her own. He trailed his way back up her body with kisses and stared at her for a minute. She wrapped her arms around his neck.
To her own horror, he started seizing. It wasn't the worst she had ever seen, but it concerned her nonetheless. He removed her arms, and breathed out shakily.
"Just... don't do that." He said, softly.
She raised her body to meet up with his and kissed him fervently. "Whatever you say," She replied.
He barely managed a smile as he kissed her again. His hands explored her body, groped at her breasts, and started to take off her bra before he felt himself being torn into her life again.
He saw her father dying, her mother crying constantly, her own sad attempts at trying to comfort her mother, her drinking, her cutting. He closed his eyes, paused. Dennis took a long breath in and released that breath very slowly.
"If you're not feeling well, then we don't have to-"
"I told you, I'm fine," Dennis replied, kissing her once again, "I'm fine."
She smiled deviously up at him as he reopened his eyes, "Well, then what are you waiting for?"
"Nothing," He replied, smiling and began taking her pants off. He was surprised when, after nearly half an hour, not one memory had permeated his thoughts. Even when he thrust into her, a part of his body literally inside her, nothing happened. His relief was short lived.
He started seizing uncontrollably.
When he came to, it was nearly a week later. A nurse informed him that a girl had left him a letter and handed it to him from the bedside table. He didn't have to open it to know what it said, of course, but he did anyway.
It read:
Dennis,
I hope you know that I love you and that I always have and always will. But, I'm too afraid that one of these days I'm going to kill you. I wish you could tell me what was wrong; maybe then it would be easier for me to do this. I do not want to break up with you, but I feel like I have to. One day, you'll find a great girl who won't send you into convulsions. I just wish that girl could have been me. If you need anything in the future, don't hesitate to call me. I will always be here for you.
-xoxo.
Dennis picked up the phone and dialed their apartment's number. No one answered. He tried her mother's house, too, but she said that she hadn't heard from her own daughter in months. He searched for months but, as hard as Dennis looked, he could never find her. He was always one step behind her.
Ultimately, she was one of the first in a long line of disappointments, and the first person who ever tried to understand him. For more than one reason, she would be the reason why Dennis would end up hunting ghosts with Cyrus Kriticos.
