Lonely

Christopher had not said he loved her, but he had asked her to stay. He wanted her, that she has always known despite how badly he'd fought it. But when he had looked at her minutes ago, there had been more. There had been a need for her to stay. Some desperation and even fear. It was strange, but she had seen it.

She had not imagined it, and it was the certainty of that longing that had her temporarily satisfied, even though she wondered why he had looked so scared.

Foggy flashes of his desperate call for her the morning before went through her mind, and she was all the more certain there was something there. Something he might never tell her, because Christopher was a man of many secrets, and he didn't trust her enough with them.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked as he stepped into the bathroom with her limply huddled in his arms. Sweet, potent fragrance of cedarwood and spices mixed with vapor from the tub, and it smelt just like Christopher.