AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I actually had a blast writing this one, simply because I view the beginning as being slightly humorous. And then it sort of gets sadder, I suppose.
Oh, just so you all know, spectrophilia is having a sexual attraction to ghosts and or willingly having sex with ghosts. Hopefully that takes away any confusion.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Danny Phantom.
WARNINGS: Mild sexual content.
He wasn't stupid.
Far from it, really. Although he certainly knew he didn't love her, he couldn't help but notice how often his thoughts strayed to her nowadays.
She was a peculiar creature, that Valerie.
Passing conversation, that's all it had been. Just a few simple, curious whispers, really. But that one word had stuck, and hadn't left him alone for days.
Spectrofilia.
And of course that train of thought had led straight back to her.
Could allowing himself to indulge this whim really be misconstrued as human folly? It was just sex, after all. Meaningless, passionless sex.
He was just afraid of the impact such an act could have on him. Would something like that be strong enough to trigger an old memory, bring back a flicker of humanity?
This woman was going to be his downfall if he let these strange urges continue. She seemed to be made of fire, pure and uncontrollable, and every time she came into contact with him, it was as if he himself were composed of nothing more than gasoline, and only she could ignite that long forgotten spark.
Every time her fist connected with his, he could feel it, brewing deep within. That spark in her eyes...the spark that had once been in his. Only she brought it out, fought to free it from its cage.
Sometimes, he thought, pleasure could become love if you let it fester and didn't kill it off fast enough.
So he intended to light it on fire and watch it burn.