I entered the room quietly as I heard her humming her favorite song to herself while running her fingers through her wet locks. She looked divine with her brown hair cascading down her shoulder, her face freshly scrubbed, bereft of any traces of make-up, a rosy hue on her cheeks and a happy twinkle in her eyes. I felt a thrill knowing she was all mine. She must have sensed my stare, because in the next second she turned around with an adorable, dimpled smile.


“Where did you disappear off to? I thought you were going to join me.”


I halted for a split second, I had planned to come back before she noticed. “If I tell you, how will it be a surprise?”


My grin and waggling eyebrows convinced her and she chucked softly, “You and your love for surprises!”

I slid my arms around her thin waist and pulled her to me. I saw fear flicker in her eyes for a second before wrinkles marred her smooth forehead. Even after being together for a year, I hadn’t been able to fully ease her fears. She was blissfully unaware of my reality, and I intended to keep it that way. So I pulled her closer and in a husky voice I whispered in her ear, “My love for surprises stems from your smile that lights up my world, from the love that shines in your eyes when you enjoy my surprises, from the kisses you drug me with to express your joy.”


It was easy to lose myself in her, but I had to strike off what I had planned for today. With great reluctance, I stopped my wandering hands and pulled away. “Hurry up and change, before we miss our next surprise.” I left her in a lustful daze as I winked and sauntered past her.


The day went exactly as planned. She loved the places I took her to. Her laughter rang through the air as I chased and tickled her crazy in the green meadows, her smiles drove everyone crazy as we strolled hand in hand through the street shops, her shy downcast eyes made me go wild as I dropped tiny kisses on her nape and forehead, and her giggles reminded me of Christmas times as I bought her trinkets from the street stalls.


It was better than perfect, except for the one fact that she insisted on taking tons of pictures. I had to distract her every time she asked to see the pictures, and it wasn’t easy. I could see her suspicions floating around her head, but I couldn’t do much. So I did what I did every evening. I left her at our honeymoon suite and rushed to the adjoining room that I had booked secretly, by making some crappy excuse to fetch something while she showered.


I turned on the system and transferred the photographs from my camera to the laptop. There were hundreds of her photographs, and a few with both of us. I smiled as I longingly gazed at the different expressions captured in these pixels. I wondered how long I had with her; if she kept asking me questions and doubting my motives, it wouldn’t be much. Shaking off the thoughts, I set to work. I selected a few and photo shopped a face similar to mine onto the distorted face in the images. With the amount of practice I had doing this, I was done with most of the pictures within fifteen minutes.


Dumping everything, I transferred the images back to the camera and surveyed the dark room. I would show her the pictures, make love to her till she lost her senses, lose myself in the temporary bliss and come back to clean up the mess after she slept. The thought of leaving her in bed while she was in my reach to ravish was troubling, but I had to squash my desires before I ended up hurting her with my insatiable thirst. As I walked back to the suite, I chuckled at the thought that even ghosts weren’t immune to the infamous pull of love and lust.


Image Source: flickr.com



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