A/N: I know, I know. It's been a bit. I have this story planned; It took a bit to figure out how I wanted to write it. And I finally figured out that instead of going in one fluid line, past to present, I'm going to jump back and forth and even do flashbacks. I think it will make the story less difficult to write.

So, this chapter takes place October 1st, 2001, approximately 44 years, 2 months, and 27 days (excluding the end date) since Royce and Emily's murders and then it jumps back to February 1955 when our ghostly lovers are alive and fifteen.

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: Sappy romantic stuff between two teens (alive and dead), violence, and language.

Also, some hints of Emily's ability are given in this chapter

The song Emily is playing on the piano in this chapter is "The Portrait" by James Horner. It fit with the emotions I was trying to convey in this chapter.

"Em!" Royce was about to lose what was left of his sanity if his sweet doll did not manifest her ectoplasmic behind into his sight within the span of the next five minutes. "Emmy! Where did you go?!"

He'd been looking for her for an hour. She never strayed too far away from him. As he slowly began to descend into his thoughts, trying to recall anything he might have said or done to upset her, he was saved from the black hole of his mind by a humming.

A small orb appeared in the clearing in front of him.

One of Emily's purple butterflies. They consisted entirely of glowing purple light and hummed a sweet tune he could not place, and she could manifest them and cause them to disappear at will. This one was clearly trying to lead Royce to her, so he followed the tiny creature to an area he knew very well.

Emily sat before their shared tombstone, large, and made of shining black granite, situated beneath the largest – and only – weeping willow tree in all Crescent Valley.

He observed the words he could see from his vantage point.

Royce Matthew Clayton
April 2nd, 1940 – July 4th, 1957

And right next to him on the stone

Emily Alice Clayton
May 13th, 1940 – July 4th, 1957

"It was sweet of our parents to have us legally married after we died, huh?"

He took a seat behind her on the grass and pulled her into his lap, nuzzling his face into her hair, the silky strands feeling like heaven against the torn skin of his face.

"We were engaged, kitten," he nipped at her neck gently. "And we were hardly ever apart."

"I think that horrendous fourth was the only time in three years we'd ever been apart."

"I still can't believe Emilia really thought that Johnny would have it in him to kill someone," Royce shook his head, remembering the pained expression on his enemy's face as the heat of the flames licked at him as he had struggled to free Royce from the wreckage of his car. "After I helped him clean up the mess he made of Ricky, we came to an uncomfortable truce of sorts."

At the mention of her, Emily's small face darkened, her fingers clenching in the material of her skirt. Eerie violin music echoed through the air as the wind picked up, the earth almost seeing to roll beneath them.

"Easy, kitten," he tightened his grip, pressing his lips to her temple as he spoke. "You don't want to cause another storm."

She took a deep, unnecessary breath before settling back against him and looking out at the field below them as Royce began to play with a strand of her hair, curling it around his finger before releasing it and then repeating the motion.

It had always been one of his favorite things to do.

February 20th, 1955
March Mansion
Crescent Valley, Ohio

Royce watched from the chaise as Emily's fingers glided gracefully over the ivory keys of her parents' piano, one of her black curls escaping from her pinned hair and brushing against her cheek. Occasionally, she would pause to write something in the musical staffs in the open book in front of her before going right back to it.

He didn't know why she was fixing it. It sounded beautiful.

"Thank you," his eyes grew a bit wide when he realized he must have spoken out loud without meaning to. She turned to face him. "But its not quite perfect yet."

She patted the bench next to her.

"I'm not going to bite you now that we're dating, you know."

He stood up and glanced around before walking over and taking a seat beside her, close enough that their shoulders were touching. She smiled softly at him, giving him a sweet, featherlight kiss on his lips, before returning to her task. His heart fluttered against his ribs like a hummingbird at the gesture.

To distract himself from his wandering thoughts, Royce reached up and unpinned her hair, the black waves of hair falling to rest above her shoulders. He began to play with one of the strands, curling and uncurling it from his finger as he tried not to stare at her face.

He was so ridiculously in love with the girl next to him. She could ask him for the moon, and he would do whatever it took to obtain it for her. Emily would never ask him to do such a thing, of course, because she was a logical person who knew such a feat was impossible. But even so, Royce would give her the world if she desired it. Even as children, he could never say no to her. And she seemed to be the only person on the entire planet that could get him to calm down when he lost his temper.

Everybody else just got the hell out of the way.

But not his Emmy. No. She wasn't afraid of him like everybody else. Even his own parents strived not to upset him if they thought it could be avoided.

Movement from the entryway to the room drew his gaze where he met the enraged eyes of Emilia March. He merely rolled his own and went back to what he was doing, seeing her turn and storm off out of his peripheral vision.

"She's not happy."

Emily did not look up or stop playing as she spoke.

Royce shrugged and continued playing with her hair.

"Are you happy?"

That one drew him up short and he looked at her.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye but merely shrugged and continued what she was doing until his hand stopped hers and made her look at him.

"Answer the question please," he gripped her chin gently with his thumb and index finger. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

She shook her head and looked down, making him sigh and cup her small face between his hands.

"You have no idea," he shook his head with a disbelieving chuckle. "No concept at all of how devastatingly perfect you are."

She shook her head. "Stop."

"It's true, Emily. You know," he paused briefly before continuing. "Johnny has a crush on you," the words leaving his mouth had hatred curling in his gut, but he bit it back. They had hated each other for years over a girl. Being on opposite sides of society did not help, of course, but Emily was the root cause. "Several of my teammates." All of whom valued their limbs and quality of life over their desires, luckily for them. "Point being, you don't see yourself clearly at all, kitten."

Her bright green eyes penetrated his blue ones as he continued.

"I could live a thousand years and never deserve you, Emily," she reached up and rested her hand on his cheek. "But I am so grateful you were willing to give me a chance to try, despite the fact that I am a mess of pride and rage - "

She surprised him when she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, the hand on his cheek sliding around to tangle in the hair on the back of his head, her sweet kisses saying more than any words could. And Royce was okay with that.

A/N: Yes, yes, I know. I am sorry it took so long. But honestly, the lack of interest shown in this story by others kind of robbed me of inspiration for a bit. But a PM I got the other day rekindled it, so here this chapter is.

Reviews are appreciated.