Pain. Agony. Despair. A little fear?
Maybe.
I had collapsed in the front room of his house after he had left, where all the lights were off; he had left earlier to attend to some errands of his. I had curled on the floor in a fetal position, as I had been for quite some time. The pain had simply become too much. Not physical pain by any means, although it certainly felt like it.
The only explanation I could have given for my behavior was a simple one: a girl, a boy, and my unbidden jealousy. Though it was so much more than that: I had been rejected by one, replaced by the other, and now thoughts of my lonely future filled my mind. To know that I was unwanted was too much; to think that I would be unwanted throughout my entire life, as my previous 'romantic' histories had taught me to think, even to the point when I would be an old woman, was far too much.
The tears ran down my ravaged face, which was frozen into a simple expression of agony, my mouth frozen in a position of open anguish. I flexed my throat again, the sound of a tormented soul escaping from it; the sound of someone truly mourning. I clawed lightly at my stomach once more through the thin t-shirt I wore, trying desperately, though in vain, to get rid of the emotional pain slicing through my stomach. I purposefully hit my head against the cold wooden floor, trying the same thing to a different effect, but of course the result was the same. Now, I laid my head against it, sprawling out over the floor, noting that I could do this on his Persian rug, but not wanting to damage it with my tears nor having the will to move. I did not wish to move ever again.
It could have been merely seconds or perhaps all eternity, my tears now silently pouring down my unmoving face, my body frozen on the floor, but then HE returned. The door opened with a barely audible click, appearing out of nowhere; his genius architecture was working as well as ever. Unseen by me, his eyes, shining bright gold in the darkness, the only thing able to be seen in the dark, quickly spotted me on the floor; he had perfect night vision, no doubt because he spent so much time in it.
His footsteps, audible to me only because I'd spent so much time listening to complete silence, hurried to close in on me, and I did not flinch from him, even though I could not see him. I loved him far too much to try to escape his underground house on the lake when he left it; I pitied him too much to be afraid of him. He knew this, adverse as he was to return my love or accept my pity, and he used it to his advantage.
But not today. Even he could see, mentally ill as he was, that I was in no condition to be chided or reprimanded for my unladylike behavior; I was grieving too much for that. He also knew why I was mourning, and did not comment on it; the lovely silence was not broken by us. Only he, with the situations he had been in in the past, could empathize with me now; though he was not the kind of person who gave empathy.
I did not flinch from his touch, cold and slightly reeking of death as he was, when he gently, though with surprising strength from a man so cadaverously thin, pulled me off the floor and against his bony chest. Other people would flinch from contact from an all-but-dead man, but I buried my face in the shoulder of his fancy clothes, not caring at this point if he protested about me ruining his shirt and jacket with my tears. Having him be so close to me allowed me to have the will to fight the pain, though it was still a vain effort.
With one thin, bony arm under my back, and the other under my knees, he carried me, silent as only he could, down what I perceived to be the hall. The rest of the house was also pitch black, all the candles having burned out long before. He didn't comment on my lack of responsibility with such a trivial task as relighting the candles for the same reason he didn't comment on my behavior. I was silent still, the only movement from me being a few shudders as I silently cried into his bony, thin chest, listening to the faint sound of his heart. The pain subsided a little with each step he took.
He only shuddered ever so slightly as a response to my touch, both of us not used to much human contact. But he held me close to him, so I ignored the shudder, instead moving for the first time in what felt like forever to gently grab a fistful of his coat as he turned a corner. Still unseen by me, as I was not looking at his face, which was no doubt covered by the black mask he wore, his eyes, still glowing bright gold in the dark, made for what others would see as an unsettling beacon in the blackness.
Slowly, he stopped, to crouch down a little with me still in his arms, balancing me with both arms while his right hand quietly opened a door. I had no idea which room we were going into, and I was only slightly curious. Right now, I really didn't care, as long as he would make the pain go away.   
A few more silent steps, and then suddenly I was slowly being lowered; my heart began to race a little, the sensation of being taken from a comforting, secure hold to open air, even with his hands maintaining a firm though gentle hold on me, was disorienting and frightening. I grabbed fistfuls of his jacket with both hands, crying out a little bit, the sound sharp to my ears against the silence. He froze, and I looked up to see his golden eyes shining in the darkness, which were now narrowing a little; he was made both concerned and cautious by my touch. Still, after a few moments, he lowered me down onto soft sheets, holding onto me until I realized that it was a bed. He removed his bony, thin hands out from underneath me slowly, gently, jerking them swiftly away only when I was completely resting on the bed. He retreated to the corner of my bedroom, his golden eyes looking at me all the while.
The pain subsided completely after awhile, the golden eyes and I just looking at each other. I rested my head against one of the pillows, pulling a few of the covers over me to keep me warm in this cold house, which I was only just beginning to feel. I moved my mouth infinitesimally, the barest hint of a smile, aimed at the man before me, wiping the remaining tears from my face with my hand. Even though it didn't feel like it right now, I also knew that I would not be completely alone in the years to come, thanks to the man facing me now. Though he could not know it, the simple act of staying with me had helped me greatly; we both knew it could be years before I was healed completely.
I closed my eyes, thinking of Erik as I drifted off to sleep; he stayed with me, both in the dream and out, as I dreamed of better things...of better days, both in the future and in the past.