Firstly, before anything goes, I want to say that this is a rewritten story of my first fanfic "And he loved her" that I wrote when I was 13. I'm now 15 and this year I'm rewriting the story because my friend's birthday is coming (Ps she doesn't surf for fanfictions here). That's why I'm rewriting the story and I need all the reviews and feedback you can give desperately because I really want to give a surprise to my friend.

This story will be updated at least 2 chapters per week (So it's going to be fast updating) and I really, really need all your support and feedback for this story. Thank you!


"Christine, I…" He looked at me, his amber eyes staring at me. The room was completely quiet except for the sound of his heavy breathing. It was almost as if I was beginning to see another side of him, a more personal, vulnerable side than his usual cold and distant character. He looked confused, so absolutely confused and for once I saw him at a loss of words. Then he clasped my hands desperately in a very reluctant manner to let go. "Christine, I love you. I love you so much that I can't ever let you go. I don't even know how to start because my mind is in a complete blur when I simply think of you. I don't know when… I don't know how… but you've captured my heart entirely. You've become my inspiration, my sole reason to live. Christine I love you deeply, and I love you so very much."

He said that to me the first time I met him. Those were the first sentences that he uttered from the beautiful, yet terrifying lips of his. For the first time in my life, I never thought that someone other than my parents was thinking about me or even caring about me. Rather, actually loving me. I was younger then, so very, very young. I was only sixteen. When I heard those words about his proclaim of love for me, I was stunned; frozen. I couldn't come up with a sufficient reply then, because I had no idea what to say. Someone loves me? Impossible! That was all I could think of.

In the first place, I was never those kind of girls who were popular amongst everyone in school. Rather, I was the more shy, reserved type. I kept quiet and dared not to talk amongst the others, always making sure I was never the centre of attention. Also, I had a weaker body than most of the others and was never the sporty type. Instead of being athletic, I excelled in aesthetics. Specifically, it was singing that I was naturally talented in. Only a few of my really close friends had ever heard me sing and they said I had an amazing talent for it. Yes, perhaps so, but my family could never afford the training. We weren't well off very well, and we were already struggling to just have bread on the table. I couldn't possibly be selfish and ask for more things.

Ah yes, my family. I was an only child and I had no siblings. My mother passed away a long time ago when she died giving birth to me. My father was the sole parent who brought me up, and he supported us by playing the violin at the streets. He could play the violin really well and his skills were absolutely amazing. However, recently, my father could no longer do so. Not while he was gravely ill. The doctor diagnosed my father, saying he was afflicted with a fatal, long-term chronic disease. Thus, that was the day I began to work multiple odd jobs. Since my father and I had no relatives (they were either dead or we had lost all contact with them), I became the sole breadwinner of the family. I worked many jobs. For example, just this morning I worked as a cashier, and in the afternoon I worked as a waitress, and currently right now at night I had just finished my shift as a singer in a pub. Here I was now, walking back home across the quiet road of Summer Street. My work as a singer was more exhausting than I thought actually. I had to sing for hours, and I had to work so hard to earn such a miserable, insufficient income. I had even dropped out of school just for the sake of supporting my father and I. Life was never fair.

I let out a distressed sigh and continued my way back home. The road was rather quiet, and I was the only person walking past the street at this hour. Few cars passed by Summer Street as it was more of a branch road located near an isolated forest, and there were fewer infrastructures built at this part of town.

The cold night zephyr blew by, caressing my cheeks and rustling the nearby leaves. The trees swayed with the wind, and a small black car zoomed past the road.

Suddenly, someone grabbed my arm. His grip was firm and strong, and on impulse I screamed with all I could in my fright- except that no one was there other than the man and I. I struggled relentlessly, as I jerked, wriggled, and began to flail my arms frantically. But his grip only got tighter and firmer. Before I could react again, he gagged me with a linen cloth. It wasn't so much of the cloth, but rather an intense, strong smell that came from the it. Soon, my breathing got heavier and my eyes started to give vision away. I felt extremely dizzy with everything else looking blurred and hazy. Short beams of light streamed from the street lamps, and that was about all I could see. I ceased my struggling and began to succumb to the drug in the linen cloth. However, just before I would black out, I used every ounce of my energy to turn around; to turn around and see who was the culprit.

A tall, lean man he was, clad in a black formal suit with his hair neatly combed to the side. Particularly it was his amber, golden eyes that stared, almost like two stars that were burning bright in the night sky. The last thing I remembered was a mask he wore; it would be quite logical for him to do so in order to keep his identity hidden- except that the mask didn't cover his whole face, it covered only half his face. However, before I could react or do anything at all, I just blacked out.

Darkness swept in, blanketing my vision.