Erik's POV

It had been ten whole years since I last made love to a woman. My body had been begging for it, yearning for a release. Yes, there were times in the past when I had touched myself to get the release I so desired, but nothing compared to making love to the real thing. Yes, I could have paid a whore, but it didn't feel right, not after the wonderful night I had with my Christine. No, she was the first and last person to touch me. There weren't many times during the past ten years that I felt the urge to release myself, but there were some nights that where I couldn't control my urges. I was a man, after all, and men had needs just like women. But tonight, I was with Christine once again, and it was pure heaven.

"Oh, Christine…" I called out her name as she pulled every stitch of clothing from off of my body, my hands tearing away her own with an animalistic need. Just knowing that she was laying on top of me was enough to send my soul soaring. Her hands ran over my hardened groin as her lips sucked at my neck and scars. Though, as this was all taking place, something felt different…Yes, I knew what making love felt like, for I had made love to Christine long ago. But tonight, as she and I rolled around like a pair of love stricken children, my body reached a new height. Yes, this was all pleasurable, but there was more…I couldn't put my finger on it, but it felt as though the life was being sucked right from my body. As I thrust into Christine, my body became tired. Though, I believed it to be from old age and exhaustion. Either way, it felt amazing…

"Harder, Christine," I begged as she straddled my lap. "Oh, don't stop…"

I pressed her legs down onto my body, causing me to plunge deeper into her. She sighed into my neck as she rode me, my pleasure coming in small, yet erotic waves. I soon felt my finish approaching, only to flip my angel over and thrust deep into her body, climaxing a few seconds before she did. Afterwards, I collapsed beside her, gasping for breath and smiling widely. Oh, how I wanted to tell my Christine how wonderful she had been, but my eyes grew heavy and soon, I found myself asleep. It didn't matter, for I knew Christine would be there beside me once morning came, and when it did, I would bestow kisses all over her cheek as we woke in one another's embrace.

I had expected to wake and feel like a new man, but instead, I woke feeling heavy as a brick. To make matters worse, I felt cold. Curious, I opened my eyes, sucking in my first breath of morning air, only to cough…Oh, that cough sounded as though I had bronchitis. I couldn't breathe! I plopped back against my pillow, reaching out my hand to touch my forehead. I was burning up. Not only that, but I was weak as well…As I lay there gasping for breath, my angel appeared beside me, her expression seeming to be one filled with concern. Yes, I would have said something to her, but I couldn't bear the thought of having to speak.

"Mon ange…" she cooed. "I tried to warn you last night. I tried to stop us from going any further…Oh, mon ange, but you wouldn't listen."

She placed her hand against my feverish cheek.

"You have angered the Gods. The living is not supposed to make love to the dead."

I opened my mouth to speak, but only a heavy wheeze erupted from my lips. Tears were now falling down Christine's cheeks.

"I should have stopped us…But, oh, Erik, I wanted it just as much as you did. I know I'm supposed to be an angel, but even in death, I still love you more than anything in the world."

I pressed my eyes closed, feeling as though death was upon me.

"Rest, Erik," Christine instructed. "You're going to need all the rest you can get. Punishment for making love to an angel is illness. Each time you make love to the dead, ange, any life left within you is sucked from your very body."

Once more, her hand placed itself against my neck.

"Oh, Erik…no…" tears escaped Christine's eyes as she stood there at my bedside. "This is all my fault, and I can't even kiss you and make it all better. No, you are to lay here and suffer. You need a doctor."

I rolled over onto my back, finding it easier to breathe this way.

"Be strong, Erik," my angel cooed. "You'll be all right. Please, be all right for Gustave's sake. Oh, if something happened to you, I would never forgive myself."

"Ch…Christine, it's….it's all right."

But everything was not all right. I couldn't breathe, my body was heavy as a ton of bricks, and my head was pounding. All that pleasure, and from it all, I received death in return. If I were to die, at least I would be beside my angel. But then again, what about Gustave? He needed his father…he needed me. We had just started bonding. I couldn't leave him now. Nadir would most likely care for him if something ever happened to me, but I wasn't yet ready to leave this life. No, I had to stay strong for Gustave, and therefore, I would do just that. I wanted to slip away to sleep, but Christine gently slapped my cheek to keep my eyes open.

"Don't sleep, Erik," she warned. "Stay awake, just until someone finds you. Can you do that for me?"

I nodded to please my angel, but the truth of it all was that staying awake, was beginning to get harder and harder. Soon, I knew that death would beat me…I just hoped it wouldn't come down to that.

Gustave's POV

It was Sunday morning, and every Sunday morning, Mister Y would take me out to breakfast. I rose at eight like I did every Sunday morning and dressed, preparing myself for our outing. After walking out into the family room, I instantly noticed that Mister Y was nowhere to be found. It was strange, because usually, he was always sitting in the family room at this time, reading the morning newspaper.

"Mister Y?" I walked up the stairs, thinking that perhaps he had slept late. But then again, he never slept in. Curious, I pulled open his bedroom door, only to find him lying in bed. Something was most definitely wrong…His breathing was labored and his face was extremely pale.

"Mister Y!" I ran to his bedside and shook his shoulder, but he didn't wake. I was frightened, oh, so frightened. When I placed the palm of my hand against his forehead, I noticed that he was burning up. I didn't waste a moment's time and ran downstairs and out the door. My papa needed help, and therefore, I would get him the help that he needed. I wasn't even halfway down the block, when I felt someone grab hold of my arm. I spun around, ready to yank my arm away, when I noticed that it was Nadir standing before me.

"Gustave, what's wrong?" he asked.

"Mister Y!" I cried. "He won't wake up…he's breathing heavy and he won't wake!"

Nadir looked around, before taking hold of my hand and running with me towards town. I didn't like strangers, but I knew I would have to get used to the man sooner or later. It seemed as though he were here to stay. When we arrived at a small office, Nadir fetched a doctor and within seconds, we were running back towards Mister Y's home. After that, I wasn't allowed back in Mister Y's bedroom while the doctor was examining him. No, I had to stay outside with Nadir. I sat there on the sofa, while the Middle Eastern man had a seat in my papa's arm chair. I looked at him, and he looked at me…

"I'm sure Erik is going to be all right," he said after a while. "He'll be just fine."

"And what if he isn't?" I scowled, pulling my knees into my chest. "What then?"

"He'll be all right, Gustave, trust me."

A few moments later, the doctor emerged from my papa's bedroom, coming down the stairs with his belongings in hand. I instantly stood to my feet, demanding to know if he was all right.

"He needs rest," the doctor began. "Seems as though he's contracted some sort of abdominal illness. It is winter, after all. Took over his body quickly… I left some antibiotics for him. Make sure he drinks plenty of fluids and stays in bed."

While Nadir walked the doctor out, I ran upstairs and into Mister Y's bedroom. My papa was still asleep, but I approached his bed and crawled in bedside him.

"Gustave," I lifted my head to find Nadir standing beside me. "Come, lad…Let's let your papa sleep."

"I don't want to leave his side," I whined.

"I know, but it's better if he's left alone. He's going to need plenty of time to recover from this illness and in the meantime, I'll look after you."

"I don't need to be looked after, sir!" I cried. "I can take care of my papa and myself. I don't need you…"

Nadir chuckled. "You're much like your father. Stubborn, and always angry. Be as it may, the doctor left me in charge until your father is feeling better. Now, I bet you're hungry. So, why don't we go downstairs and I'll make us a Persian breakfast?"

"I don't want to eat."

Nadir lifted me from my father's bedside and carried me in his arms.

"If only Erik were this light…" he chuckled. "I could have carried him away from all his temper tantrums."

I fought against Nadir's grasp, but the man had the strength of a mule. He brought me back downstairs and set me down in the kitchen. Though, when I attempted to run back upstairs, he grabbed my arm and pulled me over to the kitchen counter.

"All right, chicken and eggs it is," he said, handing me a bowl from the cabinet.

"I want to go back upstairs."

"And do you want your papa to get better?" he questioned, raising a brow.

I nodded. "Of course,"

"Then let him alone. When he's up, you can go visit him. I know he'll probably be hungry when he wakes, so why not help me make him breakfast?"

I didn't want to help Mister Khan, but decided to do so. If my papa were going to be hungry when he woke, then I would make him breakfast.

"You know, I had a son your age once…" he replied, cutting up some chicken. "He was just as stubborn as you are. Though, I believed he got his stubbornness from your father."

"You had a son?" I questioned.

Nadir nodded. "Yes, his name was Reza."

"Where is he?"

"He passed away many years ago. Even if he was still alive, he'd probably be in his early thirties by now."

I approached the counter and placed the bowl beside Nadir.

"How did he die?"

"He had a terrible illness. He was in constant pain, and well, your papa put him out of his misery. Did me a huge favor…"

"Maybe he's with my mama now…She's in a better place, so my papa says. Maybe Reza is too."

Nadir smiled and patted me on the back. "Perhaps you're right. Now, let us make breakfast. Allah knows it will make Erik feel better."

"Allah?" I questioned. "What's that?"

Nadir laughed. "It's a Persian expression. But, Allah is our God. I could teach you a lot, boy…I would be willing to do so while your papa is ill."

But I didn't answer the man, for I still didn't trust him.

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