He lay in his bed, reading, it was half-past eleven. His hair was still damp from a bath he took... trying to cleanse himself from all of that invisible blood that stained his body and soul. The blood of dozens of innocent people, even the blood of a child. Charlotte. He never forgot her name.

A bitter taste filled his mouth and no matter how much whiskey he drank, trying to drown away all of the guilt and sorrow—he couldn't seem to rid himself of it.

He could no longer tell what hurt more—those witches, torturing and taunting him or the last three days of perfect silence, perfect calmness, perfect nothing.

She barged into his room, without invitation, the door banging loudly behind her. She had her sleeping attire on and her curls were wild around her face, like a lion's mane. He turned to look at her and saw the same confusion he felt stamped on to her face. She had come on impulse. She had come to him.

"Vanessa-" She said nothing as she removed her silk robe and slipped under his covers with him. Her blue eyes were tired but the rosy hue of her cheeks were returning—things were improving, but until when?

"I had a dream with you-" She said with a tender smile. He had never seen one as such on her face.

"Really? Good I hope..."

"The best I've had in a while. You were a puppy." She teased with a childlike radiance in her eyes.

"A puppy?" He pretended to be outraged. It was good to see her in higher spirits. He couldn't help but smile at her, at the thought that even surrounded by darkness, there was still some sort of purity in them—a need for joy, for laughter, for life. Only in her company could he feel truly comfortable to speak his mind, to joke, to reminisce.

"Yes. A cute and brown little thing that fit in the palm of my hand." She smiled as she took his hand into hers and softly played with his fingers, like a little child.

"Sounds like me." She chuckled. "How much did you smoke, Ms. Ives?" She threw her head back in laughter, but ignored the question.

"I never thanked you, Ethan..." She trailed off, he could tell she was thinking too hard—her brows were furrowed and her smile began to diminish into a straight line. He tried to interrupt her but she sent him that look of reprehension... that almost always worked on him. "So thank you—for being loyal, for being my greatest friend. Thank you for sacrificing yourself, simply for my well-being and thank you..." She leaned closer to him ever so slightly. "For this." She whispered and Ethan was caught by surprise as she was quick to press her lips to his own. A second was all it took for him to throw the damn book he'd been holding on the floor and pull her closer to him, to fully reciprocate her kiss and deepen it with the utmost passion.

Her soft, nimble hands traveled from his jaw line to the nape of his neck—eliciting from him a moan of satisfaction. She pressed herself tighter against him and he could feel the rise and fall of her chest against his own, only the thin fabrics of his shirt and her gown separating him from her bosom.

Her hands were fast and urgent, tracing the line of buttons in his shirt and efficiently snaking her fingers beneath his shirt. The feel of her hands against his skin was heaven and all he could do was trail kisses along her neck... And then he found it. That little spot right below her ear that caused her to shiver, moan and pull even closer to him. She urged him to continue and he did, busying his hands, tracing the curves of her body... Finding the hem of her gown and pulling it up, releasing her long, smooth, milky leg. Ethan grabbed her leg and wrapped it round him, she was quick to turn on top of him and straddle his hips. Her face was red, from kissing—from passion. Her pupils were so dilated he could hardly see the blue and as her hips began grinding against his, the most pleasure he had felt in days—they were startled by a loud knock on the door. Vanessa smiled and let out a dry laugh, climbing off of him.

"Our kind doctor is here to check up on my health." Ethan snickered.

"You're healthy all right." He placed a quick kiss to her lips and pretended to be reading his book as she put her robe back on and headed towards the door.

"Ms. Ives-" She smiled at the doctor's flustered expression.

"Dr. Frankenstein, Mr. Chandler was just reading to me a passage of his wonderful book..." It took him all the self control in the world not to laugh and pull her back onto the bed. Victor be damned.