A/N: I'm back!!
Chapter Six
I woke up groggy and confused the next morning. Sitting up, I looked around my small room and tried to remember how I got here. Had I merely dreamt of Erik's return? Was he still dead? Just the thought brought heavy tears to my eyes, and I couldn't stop their rampage down my cheeks.
Out of nervous habit, I ran my fingers through my hair, but they caught something in their path. I removed the obstacle and found mistletoe. Everything then poured back into my head.
XOXOXOXOXO
After two cheeseburgers, three milkshakes, and four orders of fries, we wished everyone a merry Christmas and took a walk. We didn't go very far, however, because Erik's leg was bothering him. We found a secluded bench under an ivy-covered arch.
"Are you real?" I asked again. This seemed too much like one of my many dreams to be reality.
"Yes, quite real," he chuckled. On some level I was annoyed at how casually he took his survival, but I was too elated to really be mad.
"So, where are you staying?" I remembered that before he left he left his house and his parents for good.
"Well, I'm not positive yet, but I guess I'll just check into a hotel for now. I have some money saved."
"Don't spend all your money on a hotel! Stay with me," I offered.
"Oh, and have your parents wake up to find their daughter smuggling a soldier in the house? The last time you talked about them, they sounded more like wardens than parents."
"Don't worry, I'll sneak you through my window. I can hide you."
"Sure Christine, you can hide a man of my size," he snorted sarcastically.
"I can!" I argued. "I've been sulking around since I thought you were dead. I've been retreating and eating in my room the majority of the time. I could easily sneak you food and no one would walk in, because they wouldn't want to deal with my dreadful mood."
It seemed like the most brilliant plan to me. I started jumping for joy in my mind, so proud of myself for creating such a devious plan.
"It would never work," he said skeptically. I knew he was thinking about it. My plan was too brilliant to strike down.
"I have a cot and everything. You could sleep on the other side of my bed where no one can see you, even if they did walk in." Now I was starting to grin wildly. It was the most rebellious I had ever been.
"But," he tried.
"No buts! You know this is the perfect plan so don't try to argue it! Everything will work. We can even hide your stuff in the back of my closet."
"I'm not happy about this," he clarified. It was like he was trying to accept while being the responsible one.
"You don't have to be," I smiled.
"Come on, let's go home."
"Home," he said in a dazed state. He paused a moment, and then a smile lit up his face. "You are my home."
Slowly but surely, we finally made it to my house. I quietly snuck in while Erik waited outside my window. He had trouble climbing in which made a little bit of noise, but it didn't wake anyone up.
"Okay, so I'll go get you something to sleep in. The cot's in my closet and I'll bring some blankets." Without a sound, I grabbed some of my dad's pj's and blankets from the laundry room.
After giving him everything he needed, I went to the bathroom to change. I chose one of my better nightgowns since a man would be in my room the entire night.
"Are you okay?" I chuckled.
Erik was around 6' 4" and my father was only 5' 10" so the pj's were a little tight on him.
"I think I'll just sleep in my boxers if you don't mind. I don't mean to offend, but there's no way I'd be able to fall asleep in this," he joked.
"Not a problem," I mumbled and blushing like crazy.
Then I crawled into my bed and watched the show.
I'd seen plenty of bare male chests over my seventeen years, especially during summertime, but nothing was like Erik. Every muscle was perfectly angled into a heavenly shape making him look like a man made of steel. But I had seen weightlifters with more defined muscles. That is not what made him different. His scars highlighted in the moonlight as he moved. They were almost like the self-inflicted marks that African tribal men in the National Geographic made on themselves during their rite of passage. Most would describe them as imperfections, but I saw them as his identity. What he did to receive those scars made him who he is. His bravery and struggle defined him, inside and out.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he whispered. He must have caught my staring and turned away from me.
"No, it's beautiful," I whispered back. Getting out of my bed, I stepped onto his cot and rested my hands on his shoulders.
"Ha! Beautiful my ass!"
"Hey!" As hard as I could, I wheeled him around to face me. "Look at me!"
He didn't respond, not even with his eyes; his head was bent low.
Slowly, I traced his scars starting from his neck all the way to his sternum.
"This is a mark of your courage. That, to me, is beautiful and magnificent." When I said that he looked up at me and held me close in an embrace.
"Thank you. For everything," he muttered into my hair.
"Don't thank me yet, I still haven't succeeded hiding you yet," I said trying to lighted up the mood.
"Now let's go to bed, you must be exhausted!" After all the walking we did, who wouldn't?
Once we had both settled in our respective beds, Erik sat up.
"Oh, I almost forgot."
He reached under his cot and crawled up next to my bed so that we were eye level.
"You can't have a Christmas without mistletoe," he winked.
I followed his gaze to the object in his hand above us and found the infamous plant.
"Well, then, Merry Christmas to you!" I said before meeting his lips.
OXOXOXOXO
As I remembered everything that had happened, I quickly looked to the side of my bed, and the sight almost made me weep with joy.
Snoring softly under piles of blanket lay a peaceful, sleeping Erik. I couldn't help the giggle rise from my mouth; he was just too adorable sleeping there with his mouth open and his hair standing up in every direction.
Without waking him up, I quickly kissed his cheek and made an omelet for him before everyone else woke up. I made sure it would stay warm, and I left the food and a note next to his head. My instructions were to eat and relax, with the exception of never leaving the room. I also told him that if there were any footsteps in the hall that he should hide under my bed or in the back of my closet. Hopefully he wouldn't find anything too embarrassing.
Then, it was time to cook Christmas breakfast. Usually my mother did it, but I was already up so I figured I could give her a head start; the faster the day, the closer I got to seeing Erik.
"Christine, are you making breakfast?" my mother asked as she walked in.
"Just helping out," I replied with a smile. She looked shocked.
"You're in a happy mood this morning." I then remembered that it was the first time since Erik's "death" that she had seen me smile.
"Yeah, well, it's Christmas." She still looked suspiciously at me.
"'Morning, Christine," my sister greeted.
"'Morning, Chelsea." I really hoped she didn't give me a hard time today. I needed to butter up my family as much as possible. On the chance that they did find Erik, I wouldn't get into too much trouble.
I surprisingly had a good Christmas morning: Everyone got along, the presents were nice, and Erik was waiting for me in my room.
"I'm going to eat in my room," I announced.
"What are you feeding? An elephant?" Close, I thought.
"I'm just really hungry," I lied. I had eaten enough chocolate to last me a good two days.
"Just make sure you won't spoil your dinner," my dad reminded me.
"I won't."
Quickly, without dropping my plate of three grilled cheese, a bag of chips, and all my presents, I reached my door.
When I was met with an empty room I was scared that it was all a dream again, but then something grabbed my leg.
"Ahh!!" I screeched as I dropped all of my presents, thankfully saving the food.
"Are you alright, Christine?" I heard my father yell from down the hall.
"Just a cockroach, Dad," I growled as I saw the muscular hand wrapped around my ankle and heard the chuckle from under the bed.
"Erik! You scared the hell out of me!" I scolded.
"I'm sorry, it was too hard to resist." He started to crawl out while trying to contain his laughter.
"You're lucky I didn't drop your lunch."
"Oh, good! I'm starving!" Like he ever wasn't…
"It's grilled cheese and chips. I also have some chocolate left over from my stocking."
"Thank you, love," he said through a mouthful of sandwich.
"So what did you get for Christmas?" he asked once he was finally finished.
"Oh, I got some curlers, a few records, jewelry, and some other random stuff."
"Which records?" For some reason I had a strange feeling that music was a big deal to him.
"Let's see, The Who, Pink Floyd, Steely Dan, Thin Lizzy, Rolling Stones, and Led Zepplin."
"Oh, so you're a bit of a rocker are you?" he teased.
"What? I like the guitar."
"I think it's the bad boy image that attracts you." His eyes were smoldering and my heart rate sped.
"It is not!" I argued.
"It's alright, Christine, you don't have to explain it to me," he joked. "I think a little rebellion is necessary. The question is, how did you get your parents to agree to get you those."
"Well, they said if I got straight A's then they'd get them for me. I worked really really hard."
"I would do the same if I could have that for Christmas."
"Which reminds me!" Shuffling through my gifts, I found what I was looking for and handed it to him.
"What's this?"
"Stationary." I got it from my father. He saw me writing all the time and got me stationary with intricate designs along the boarder.
"I meant why would I need this?"
"I thought you could use this to contact your friends and tell them you're alive. Also, I know how you are with your parents, but I'm sure they're worried about you."
"Thank you, Christine, but my parents wouldn't care if I were dead or alive." The left side of his face contorted into a grimace.
"Fine, then write them a hate letter without a return address, I don't care, just send them something letting them know you're happy and well."
"Why?"
"Because they've treated you terribly. I mean, I don't even know the half of it, but by the cigarette burns on your arms I can tell they're horrible. Just let them know that you survived them, a war, and the rest of your life. You're happier without them."
"I am. You make me so happy, Christine," he smiled.
"Even if you have to hide in my house like a stray puppy?" I joked.
"As long as I'm your puppy." By now, he had a grin that reached his left ear. I couldn't tell where it ended on his right side due to the mask, but I was sure it was identical lengths.
"Alright Fido, let's get out of here."
We climbed out the window and did what our hearts desired.
A/N: Please Review! Gracias! I love you guys!