The sun shone bright though the lilac curtains in Charlye room creating a soft look to the capacious room. She stirred, beginning to open her eyes to the new morning…well, afternoon. Charlye began to recall last night's horrific events. She was thankful to be alive.

"Aw man…" she groaned to herself when she got up and stumbled over to the vanity. She wore a light, white nightdress that just above her knees and her hair was neatly combed. Slightly confused, she touched the red marks on her and then walked out to her balcony window surveying the garden below. Everything seemed normal.

Charlye trudged back to her bed and jumped into it. Her muscles screamed in protest and she moaned face first into the pillow. And then out of the blue, there was a low chuckle. Charlye jolted onto her elbows and turned her head toward the sound.

There he was in all his masculinity wearing a crisp white collared shirt and black dress pants. Long, silky black hair and over grown bangs fell over his smoldering crimson eyes. His lips formed a gentle smile; his skin held an unusual amount of color. Lying next to her, he looked like a painting.

Charlye blinked a couple of times trying to figure out whether he was real or not.

"Dalvé?" she whispered in question. He only smiled and snickered at her reaction and thoughts,

"Did you expect someone else?" the sound of his voice brought joy to her. So much joy, that she pounced on top of him with a giant hug. Dalve responded by wrapping his arms around her firmly.

"I've missed you so much." Her words were muffled into his chest.

"I've missed you as well. Another day, and I would have lost my sanity." He pressed his nose to the top of her head and inhaled her scent. He then raised her head so they could see eye to eye. It was only then that Charlye realized that she was in a strange position. Her legs were planted on either side of his waist and certain places were pressing a little too intimately. Charlye blushed and shifted uneasily.

"Relaxaţi-vă.1" He said. "You need not be tense around me." He paused, "Although, that was a hell-of-a scene last night. I was surprised when I woke up to it." He lied as he ran his finger through her thick black hair. Charlye eyes darted away as she remembered the screaming man.

"You saved me." She said. Dalvé only smiled as he sat up and brought her legs over his thighs, cradling her. He absently tugged at the lace of her nightdress with a thoughtful expression,

"I did." His tone was suddenly strict, "you were very reckless."

"I had no choice." She had to defend herself. "Is Vinnie okay?" Dalvé nodded now staring at her with soft eyes.

"You've grown, yet your resolve hasn't changed. You are still the kind-hearted, stubborn Charlye." He placed a hand on her knee as he studies her fair features. Her long black hair, creamy skin and smearing, deep green eyes and long black lashes. Charlye's cheeks blushed a soft pink at his blunt appraisal; she felt strange in his presents. Dalvé just seemed so much different to her. "When you were younger, you were all flat and…stick-like. I must say, you filled out quite nicely." He gave her a devilish smile. Charlye's eyebrows crunched together when Dalvé squeezed her tighter to him, deliberately crushing her plump chest into his muscular one. She was mildly offended.

"Have you no shame?" she felt ashamed to be aroused by this.

"You cannot blame me for speaking the truth." He smirked to himself. Charlye decided to jump the subject before he could go any further,

"Who were those people who tried to kill me? Do you know?" Dalvé answered almost immediately.

"They are the men who claim themselves as "Men of God".

"Section 13…" Charlye was surprised, "what does the Vatican want with me? I know I'm the air to their most hated organization but… Why try to kill me?"

"I don't think it's only that. The Pope might just be unaware. There are people working under the table." He said, "Remember, they are after a boy named Charlye; it was just chance that they bumped into you: they must have had to kill all witnesses because two guards died at the front entrance. They suppose that you know about me as well."

"Enough about this, I wanted to have a happy reunion with you, Charlye." He said.

Charlye was about to comment when Dalvé lifted her off his lap and set her onto her back. He then lay on his side with an elbow placed to support himself. Charlye gasped when he smashed his lips against hers and stole her breath away. "However, It makes me upset that those bastards marched up in here and shot at you. It makes me more infuriated that that piece of shit had the nerve to touch you and insult your name." When Dalvé gets angry, it's a terrifying thing. Charlye's voice was caught in her throat. "Let me erase his touch from your skin." He said as he placed his hand below Charlye's left breast. She was too mortified to do anything so she just stared. The bold Dalvé continued his attack and ran an open palm over her breast, gripping it roughly.

Charlye was overwhelmed by this, "Wait a minute!" she yelled in protest as she pulled his hand away. Dalvé made an impatient grunt as he grabbed her wrist and pinned it down. In his logic; it was not acceptable for her to resist him, not after all this time. Charlye told herself that she wasn't afraid. She pushed with all her might at his hold on her wrist but she had forgot how incredibly strong he was. He kissed her again, this time, Charlye attacked, leaving him with a bloody lip. Dalvé laughed hysterically as he removed himself from Charlye. She sat up as well, clearly furious with him,

"That isn't funny." He continued to laugh, "So much for our happy reunion." Charlye mumbled angrily. Dalvé allowed himself to be hit with the cushion she threw and seized his guffaws as he watched her stomp off towards her walk-in closet on the other side of the room,

"Come now, Charlye. I was only testing your limits." He watched as she angrily threw open the closet door, "Frankly, I would have been upset if you didn't resist me."

Charlye scrolled through some of the outfits in on the rack. She chose a black dress with sleeves and donned it. She felt satisfied when she looked in the mirror, the dresses turtle neck covered her own; perfect. She then decided to bless him with a snide remark, "You should have stayed asleep for another five years. Or maybe a decade." Dalvé got up and walked over to the cream colored couch that was adjacent to the bed.

"This is the thanks I get for saving your life?" He said playfully. When he spoke again, Charlye felt his breath by her ear, "Your feisty attitude excites me, Charlye." She gasped when he pulled up the dress zipper. It had been a while since she had experienced his ghost like appearances…she would have to get use to it again. Charlye turned to face him, when he met his eyes her heart skipped. Dalvé's eyes were so tender and filled with love, she blushed at the sight.

"Don't give me that look." She said looking away, but Dalvé only turned her to face him. She noticed that his bleeding lip wound was no longer visible. Charlye pushed a bang away from his face and tucked it behind his ear. "You need a haircut." She said, dazed and thinking about how beautiful the monster standing before her is.

"I prefer handsome." He said replying to her thoughts with a smile, "And I shall see it done." He answered to her comment.

"No, I'll do it for you." She was pretty handy with scissors. Dalvé smiled,

"I would like that." He suddenly began to melt into the darkness of the closet.

"Where are you going?" Charlye stretched her hand towards the open space where Dalvé once stood.

"You are about to receive company." She heard his voice echo from the shadows. Charlye sighed and slipped on black flats, he could have at least told her who it was.

"My Lady, the Count wishes to see you." The maid had opened the door just after knocking.

"My father is here?" she said putting in silvery strings of diamond as earrings as she walked towards her maid.

"He arrived just this morning." She said, and then she put a hand to her chin thoughtfully, "The dress is very nice, however, you should wear some heals. You know how your father is." Charlye frowned when she realized the maid was right. She turned to her closet and came out with tall yet simple black heals.

"Here we go…" she mumbled with false enthusiasm as the maid led her down the halls. The maid giggled at her and over her giggles she heard Dalvé's seductive chuckle,

"Mind your tongue around him, my sweet." He reminded and warned her.

"Go to bed, Dalvé." She retorted. His laughter echoed evanescently through the halls.

1 Relax