A/N: AHH! MIDTERMS! SCREAM OH, I'M BURNING ALIVE!

On a lighter note, I finally got a program that has spell check. It's not Word, but it will have to do for now. Sorry for the mistakes in the last chapters in spelling and grammar.

Thanks for all the reviews, I enjoyed hearing from you all.

I was wondering if more girls or more boys read my story. So please tell me. Also tell me if you hate Raoul, love him, like him, or are undecided. I want to know, I'm curious. .

Now, without further adieu, chapter 8.

Chapter 8

Together they both made their way to Christine's house. The boy held her hand leading her to her house.

'Why is he leading me to my own house, he doesn't even know where I live?' Christine asked herself. 'And why is he holding my hand?'

Although she questioned herself about holding his hand, she felt safe. 'I think I just answered my own question' she pondered to herself, 'the reason that he is holding my hand is to make sure I'm safely by his side.' For a brief second she felt small flutter of butterflies in her stomach.

"Make a right down this road." Christine said quietly. They turned down the road as directed. "The second house to the left." she whispered.

They stopped in front of a white two story-house. Christine then walked with the boy over to the tree which grew on the left side of the house. They stopped in front of the tree, and Christine looked up first at the tree, then towards the window.

"That window over there," she whispered pointing, "That is the window to my room. We have to climb the tree to get into the house. Please be sure not to make a sound, for my father is asleep by now."

"I'll go first." the boy said. Christine nodded. With the agility and speed of a cat, he climbed up the tree to the lowest branch. Christine was surprised at the strength the boy's skinny body possessed. He was sitting on the branch, looking at Christine. He reached his arm out to her, and she took it with her small hands. His long fingers wrapped securely around her arm, while his other hand was holding onto the trunk of the tree for support. Christine soon found herself sitting next to him on the branch. From there on Christine managed climbing up the tree on her own. The boy was waiting for her on the top branch that was closest to Christine's bedroom window.

Christine reached the branch that the boy was perched upon. The boy turned and faced the window and moved as close as he could to it. He jumped from the branch onto the ledge of the open window. He made it into the room without a sound then turned around to gesture to Christine to do the same.

Christine inched her way over to the window, just as the boy did. She grabbed onto the thin branch with her left hand for balance. Christine stepped forward and lost her footing. The thin branch in her hand snapped. The boy's hand shot out of the window and grabbed her right hand, catching her before she fell.

"You're slipping from my grasp. Quick, grab onto the ledge!" She looked at him with fear in her eyes, "Don't worry, I won't let you fall." the boy said.

Christine did as she was told and put her left hand on the ledge. The boy then pulled her up into the house.

"Thank you so much." Christine said on the verge of tears. "You saved me twice today. How can I ever repay you!" she said rather than asked. Without hesitation she hugged him gently. His arms hung limply at his sides in shock. He slowly moved his arms around her. He savored the feeling of her body pressing up against his naked chest. He held her for a minute in the warm embrace then she parted from him. Her chocolate eyes stared into his amber ones for a while until she spoke.

"I better show you to your room." Christine whispered. She turned from him and made her way to a door. She waved her hand for him to follow. She opened the door and they both walked in.

"This is the only door that leads into this room. I assure you, you will have your privacy. Just try not to make a noise, lest my father discovers you. I shall bring you a cloth and a bucket of water for you to bathe, excuse me," she said. Christine walked out of the room and made her way to the bathroom that was across the hall to her bedroom. She filled the bucket up with lukewarm water and threw a piece of cloth in. She quietly walked across the hall with the bucket.

"Why are you up so late, Christine, and what are you doing?" Christine's father asked sleepily.

Christine heart skipped a beat. "I- I was just..." she stammered. Her mind drew a blank as she tried to make up an excuse. It finally came to her, "I couldn't sleep so I decided to read. A few moments ago I had just finished reading. I was just getting ready for bed." she said.

He nodded. "Carry on." He said. "Oh and, Christine, may I have a word with you tomorrow? Not now, for it is late. Off to bed, goodnight, my angel."

"Yes, Father, goodnight." She walked up to him and planted a kiss on his cheek. He did the same.

"Sleep well." He said before turning the corner into his room.

Christine turned to the door closing it behind her. She walked towards the boy and placed the bucket on his room. He mummered his thanks to her.

"I'm sorry, I haven't any clothes for you, but I have something to keep you warm during your stay here." He nodded.

She left the room and came back with a few heavy blankets. He was sitting on the twin bed when he saw her enter. She noticed he had lit the candle on his night stand.

"Thank you, Christine, for your hospitality. It means a lot to me." he said with truth in his eyes... And something else Christine couldn't quite distinguish.

"Goodnight," she paused, "mon ami." Before he could respond, she closed the door.

Christine dressed into her nightclothes and crawled underneath her covers.

She lie on back fully awake, 'A lot has changed in my life since my eighth birthday.' she thought. 'What was that look in his eyes? Was it happiness? No, the look in his eyes was far stronger than just happiness.'

Christine's breathing became slow and deep as she drifted off to sleep.

A/N: Just wanted to say to my sister that she is partly right about writers not being human. At least she and I aren't human. We are almost like vampires... Never really stopping to eat or sleep. We live off of the reviews of other people. Reviews are like blood to us... Our source of survival. We can't live without it. LOL! SO REVIEW! . Or I shall... "die".

Just went a little dark there. Ha ha ha.

Remember to tell me what your feelings are towards Raoul, and I just wanted to know if more boys read my stories or girls.

Also how do you think of this story so far? OMG it's so cool? Great? Good? So-so? Bad? Yuck It's horrible?

Which one?