Chapter Four

"You can't go out, Shi, you're sick."

She had looked up at him, eight years old and petulant. This was the day he first tried to explain her sickness to her. The blood disease. She looked with longing out at the garden through the front windows. She'd pulled the heavy drapes aside to let some of the soft sunlight come through the glass.

"I can never go out?" Her eyes were wide with betrayal.

Nathan hugged her, "You wouldn't like it so much out there, dear. The world out there is cruel. The people are not nice."

She cuddled into his coat, he smelt like cinnamon.

"You're a nice person." She stated.

He was so tall and kind and strong. She didn't think there was anything her daddy was incapable of.

"I'm different, precious. I'm different to everyone else."

She cracked a little smile. He was wonderful, she knew that.

"I'll always protect you, Shi. I love you...so much." He sounded funny and muffled, like he had a head cold.

"I love you daddy."

She was so innocent, and so accepting. She rarely questioned her sickness again. She always believed that her father knew what was best, and would take care of her.

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He had thought seriously about convincing her she'd dreamt it. But he knew that his face would betray the truth somehow. It was afternoon and he was rested although had only managed about an hour's worth of actual sleep. As he regarded his reflection he pressed a finger to the bags under his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. What had happened seemed surreal - as if perhaps he had dreamt it. Shilo was a perfect and shining girl. He felt old and tired, and knew he'd certainly looked better than he did now. Lack of sleep, frustration and guilt clouded his thoughts. He'd get a sharp jolt every now and then, remembering what he had done. It was like he'd been out drinking heavily, and every flash of his ridiculous drunken behaviour made him sick with guilt. But he'd been sober.

He had fixed her sandwiches and soup, along with a large mug of tea. His heart began to pound however as he neared her door with the tray. How horrible that he would be nervous to see the only person in the world who meant anything to him.

God, what if she hates me?

....What if she doesn't?

His hand was shaking as he drew the keys from his pocket.

He entered her large room. She was on her bed, not under the covers, and facing away from the door. Long black hair spread out on the pillow. He couldn't tell if she was sleeping. He walked across the room and placed the tray down on the small table, removing her untouched breakfast tray. He glanced at her again - she hadn't moved. Probably asleep. He made to leave the room.

"I hate you."

Her voice was clear although she remained facing away from him. Sorrow wrenched at his heart. If she really hated him, he would probably die. He knew she was a teenager though, prone to such statements.

A teenager....

Fresh pang of guilt.

He couldn't find his voice, and simply remained standing near the door with her breakfast tray in his hands. Shilo rolled over and looked at him, cheek cupped in her hand. She had a murderous look on her face. It would almost be comical if not given current circumstances.

He put the tray down and went to her, squatting by the bed to look up at her, as he often did. She looked away from him. Her wig was a little crooked. She looked adorable. He was so full of love for her.

He pulled the sheet of plastic back so that there was no barrier between them, and touched her gently on her shoulder. It would probably be better to just leave, but he couldn't ever ignore Shilo. Especially when she was upset. She had to know how important she was. His eyes were soft as he looked upon her, a wistful expression playing across his features. Pale green eyes and dark rimmed glasses. He may have been a monster to the rest of the world, but not to her. His throat was dry and constricted - he felt he couldn't speak if he had wanted to. He drew nearer to her, kissing her shoulder. She glanced at him, bright eyes burning in her pale face. A question, a challenge, a quiet fury, all in one look. Daring him to see her.

"I love you."

He said it as an assurance, to her and to himself. She regarded him, the anger draining from her face as she saw his sad and tired eyes. He moved, slowly, as if still unsure, and sat on her bed beside her, running his fingers gently over her back as he had earlier. She shivered with pleasure, and squirmed to roll onto her back so that she was looking up at him. The look she gave him was so grown up and sultry he almost did not recognise her. He gave in.

He kissed her, and his kiss was less hesitant now. And his hands clutched at her, holding her shoulders and then roaming down over her breasts and down her stomach. Then he was on top of her and losing himself. He felt like he was dying, half of sin and half of utter ecstacy. Things are said to always taste better when they're forbidden. Or just bad for you. But he loved her. He didn't realise just how much until recently. She was not a reminder of the mother who had died. She was just Shilo. And she was his Shilo, forever.

They were both short of breath, regarding one another for a moment before falling into frenzied kissing. His hand slid between her legs. Her breath caught in her throat. He expected her to pull away, to tell him to stop. But she was breathing heavily, arching her back to bring his hand closer to her.

"Is this...really what you-" He can't finish the question.

All those times he looked blankly at her, mindlessly toying with her hair, stroking the soft skin of her inner arm. She'd look at him and know he wasn't seeing her, Shilo, at all. But now he was seeing her. He was, wasn't he? He had to be. She nodded, her pupils were huge and black.

He sat back on his heels, Shilo was beneath him. His knees rested on either side of her hips. He took hold of her white shift dress and began to pull it up from her thighs. She arched backwards to help him remove it. Up over her head, she held her hair to stop her wig from going with the dress. (She wanted to look pretty - didn't everyone?) She was too expectant to be embarrassed as she lay there in only her simple black underwear.

She had such pale and creamy skin. Right now she did not resemble Marni at all. She was some ethereal creature, and he was just, the man who loved her beyond all measure. He'd been with women who wore complicated lingerie and made those pouting faces at him. Lace, garters and suspenders, fishnet stockings and nine inch stilettos. But they could not compare to how erotic Shilo managed to look in just black cotton underwear, bare feet, no makeup. Vanilla scented skin.

She never knew her father had a fine scattering of greying hair across his chest. She was running her hand across it now, back and forth. He held her tight against him. His heart was beating very fast and hard, she could feel it. Her own heart was still racing, too.

So, she was a woman now, if she was to understand the term correctly. Strangely she didn't feel any different. Just sore and a little confused. She recalled him kissing her softly and lovingly from her neck, down her body and right to her underwear. She felt that jolt again of longing. She remembered him tugging them down, hot breath. Another jolt. She remembered her face burning with heat, feet planted on the bed, knees up and looking at the top of his head. It felt funny at first. And then all that longing and lust had accumulated in what felt like an electrical current that spread all over her. It was then that she understood the strange noises that the ladies on TV made.

The actual act of lovemaking itself had been more awkward and frightening than anything. As the black spots cleared from her vision, he had kissed her deeply on the lips, and she felt the strangest sensation down there. It had hurt, but not as much as she'd been brought to believe from books. Possibly because she had been relaxed and she loved and trusted him. But it still hurt! She wasn't sure she liked this business at all.

"Shall I stop, Shi? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

His cheeks had been damp. So had hers.

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Routine settled back to somewhat normalcy (if there is a normal when you don't know what 'normal' really is). Night doctor, day father. But something had been changed. Though guilt tormented him, gradually, he was able to convince himself that it was what she needed and wanted. Shilo could never leave now. They could be together. She may still want to go outside. But now, there was even more reason why she needed to be kept safe from the world. She was his, and he would protect her and love her, more than anything in the world. Still her eyes would burn with questions and challenge him.. Still Marni's memory lingered in the house, with her many faces watching from the walls. Perhaps nothing had really changed. He would still look upon her at times and see Marni. These brief flashes filled him with a guilt that ate at him. This was wrong, he was sure of that. In a world where morality had faded to a dull memory and religion was dead, he still knew that what they were doing was wrong on a very basic and primal level. He could put a stop to it, surely. But he didn't want to make her sad. He was weak, when it came to her.

Soft noises, murmuring. A sharp intake of breath. Clutching, clinging to him as her lithe body trembles and shakes. She's trembling all over, as if she were out in the cold. Suddenly an explosion, and more sound escapes her. Crying into him, legs wrapped around him. Oh! She's tingling all over. She understands now. Her eyes are wide, but her vision hazy. He is looking down at her, so strong looking that he makes her feel tiny. Her breathing is ragged, he falls into her, holding tightly. A soft moan against her neck.. He lies there for a few moments longer, breathing heavily. She feels light headed, and so full of love. It makes sense now. They don't speak, don't need to now. It's such a bittersweet feeling, his hot breath, her shining eyes. Right and wrong don't matter right now. She has no one else, only him.

Shilo's voice is soft but her words clear and melodic, "I didn't know I'd love you so much."

She smells like cinnamon.

She sat up, unable to hold her breath any longer. Water cascaded down over her and she sat in the bath, full of bubbles. (He still always put bubbles in.) The world was back again, back from the serenity of under the water on the bottom of the bath. She heard the door open and he smiled down at her. She responded by blowing a palmful of bubbles in his direction.

"Shi, time to get out, you've been in there a long time."

He held out her towel for her as she obediently stepped out of the bath. Her bald head glinted in the dull light. Her pale body seemed to glow. She noticed him, gazing at her body. Not in the critical way that she did. He looked utterly enamored. She felt like she was beautiful.

She wanted him to touch her and kiss her, but she remained quiet and obedient. It wasn't nice to be demanding. She had seen what it did to him, how he would look so guilty and sad. He was still in mourning after all this time, for she saw him gaze at Marni's pictures and grow sad and quiet. He abated his guilt by passing days acting as a dutiful father, speaking of Marni to her and pretending that everything was normal. But again it would happen, he'd linger too long and he'd embrace her in a way that was not fatherly. And she longed for those times he seemed to forget her mother and he seemed alive and truly affectionate with her. She took them as they came. Her shining eyes revealed nothing, small mouth pressed together in a thin line. And waited for him to kiss her. Waited to be noticed.

He moved to her and wrapped her in the towel gently. He kissed her forehead and smelt her clean fresh smell.

"Precious, time to take your medicine and go to sleep."

[end]

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