Where are you?

Find out for yourself, my friends; I'm not much of a spoiler-lover... c:

CHAPTER 1

 

 

I breathed in his familiar spearmint scent, my fingers tracing the pattern of his furry winter coat. I laughed out loud in spite of myself. Henry had always claimed that he had Halitophobia, the fear of having bad breath, and would feverishly take mints with him everywhere he went. The arms of the parka seemed to wrap around my waist warmly and comfort me. I felt his presence there, holding onto his coat. I lingered in that position, my face molding into a stiff mask. Don’t cry, don’t cry.

            A soft knock at the door startled me. “Come in,” I heard myself croak.

            The door creaked open and a woman in her fifties stepped inside. Mrs. Forte had her fair hair in a low bun and her usual intelligent face showed signs of depression"dark circles, red-brimmed eyes, and a paling face. She shuffled inside, careful not to step on the rims of her black dress.

            “Bennie,” she whispered, “Come here.”

It’s strange how much people could be affected by mere words. When her arms opened up to my direction, I let myself fall into them, a sob exploding spontaneously from somewhere deep inside my chest. We wept on each other’s shoulders, Henry’s coat snuggled between our embrace. She let go of me first to look me in the eye. The black pools in her eyes made me shiver. Now that I saw them closely, I knew that they were not red from tears, but from the lack of sleep. She must not have any more tears to cry…

“I wasn’t going to cry,” I whispered, wiping the rivulets from my cheeks, ashamed.

Mrs. Forte stared at me for the longest time with an unreadable expression on her face. I felt entirely uncomfortable. Mrs. Forte had been my second mother for years; I’d visited her every Saturday to have tea with her, even when Henry wasn’t nearby. She was a dutiful woman with a knack for curing with words, but she never used her convenient tongue with me when I needed it the most, which was now.

When my sniffles lessened, her unusually empty eyes were still searching me. She mumbled something unintelligible and left me there, alone in the room. I closed my eyes tightly and let myself fall to the hardwood floor, Henry’s coat cradled in my arms. I slowly drifted off to sleep as the room grew darker in the sunset but bolted awake, gasping for air, when the dream of the night was triggered.

It had been Henry, his chocolate-brown eyes and blonde hair enhanced by the familiar, snowy background. His usual dimpled smile was missing; a vile, nasty disguise had taken its place. “I’m not dead,” he’d shrieked, his eyes flashing an angry black.

           

             

 

           

 

           

 

 

 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

           

 

Henry offered me his knitted mittens sheepishly, a soft blush on his cheeks. I took them shyly and slipped my hands into their cozy warmth. They were much too big for my hands but imperfection itself was perfection. I took his left hand from his pocket and squeezed it into the right-hand mitten. Our hands merged together, warm and snug and squashed together. I looked up at him and smiled. His face dimpled when he flashed me one of his sweet, honeyed smiles.

            I leaned my head on his arm as we walked the wintery path, listening to the soft crunch of the snow beneath our boots.

            “Your head is heavy,” he teased, cocking his head in a boyish manner.

            “That’s because I’m smart,” I countered lamely, playfully poking his cheek.

He stopped in his tracks and faced me, placing his mitten-less hand on my waist.

“And beautiful.”

He leaned over slowly, his eyes half-shut as if he were sleepy. I felt his cool breath on my nose, then a pair of soft lips brush by my cheek. I couldn’t breathe"what was this feeling? I breathed in his aroma and the fresh scent of spearmint filled my nostrils. Henry suddenly pulled away, his free hand on his mouth.

“Did it smell bad?” he asked, his eyes alarmed.

I gazed up at him, bewildered. “What are you talking about?”

“My"” he hesitated, his eyes avoiding me"“Breath.”

A burst of laughter escaped my lips despite my disappointment and I was surprised at how feminine it sounded. “No, you smell rather nice.”

            He sighed, relieved. A look of forged displeasure crossed his face when my words finally reached him. “Just ‘nice’, you say?” He had stooped down to form a snowball with one hand.

            I bent down and planted a twee kiss on his soft cheek. “Maybe a little better.”

This took him by surprise: his chocolaty eyes widened and his lips pursed in embarrassment. I peered up at him, chastened. “Sorry,” I muttered, quickly dropping my gaze when I saw his cramped expression. He muttered a few words I couldn’t quite catch, playing with his tiny ball of snow. The tension was unbearable. I knew what I had to do.

I clenched my bare hand at the snow, picking up just a handful of it; laughing, I sprinkled the load down his shirt. Henry was obviously unprepared, for he gasped hoarsely in stupefaction before laughing and crushing his own snowball over my hair. His laughter was definitely contagious, my permanent ear candy. I heard myself join in as we gathered more snow to haul at each other. His hand in the mitten tightened around mine when our burst of laughter diminished in a slow, pleasant manner.

            His cold, free hand held my chin up, forcing me to look into his eyes. I swam in a pool of dark chocolate, studying every speckle of black and gold in the mix…and he used my time of trance to lock his lips on mine. I let out a sound of stupefaction and sheer joy as our lips touched, and my limbs tingled with the effect of fireworks in my heart. If only Chemistry could be this exciting all the time…

Our hands tangled together in the mitten while our other pair of hands grasped each other for warmth. The snow fell on us gently and weightlessly as we shared the perfect kiss. He ended the kiss first, his face adorably red. “Don’t be sorry,” he growled in his deep, stubborn voice, then wrapped me into his strong arms.

We walked just like that in each other’s arms, two hands in one mitten, slipping on the snow and laughing as if we were souls floating up to heaven.

 

 

           

            His handsome, blushing face from our first kiss remains in my head; his death haunts me in every breath I take. Henry Forte, if you’re not dead, where are you?

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Reviews are much loved. I want to know what you think~

Reviews

[snopadelic]

This is a very good opening chapter. The descriptions are very good and yopu create a mystry to pull your readers in. Very good

[Blue Moon Ice Cream]

I loved this. Your description of the kiss was excellent, and the mystery of what happened to him is compelling. I want to find out more!

[Patches I'm not so new..]

great opening chapter and to leave the reader wanting more is the mark of a good story teller I want to read more this is a good start to a mystery story.