Danae pressed her ear to the door.
"I give you my daughter to sow for the purpose of producing legitimate children."
"I take her."
The voices belonged to two men—her father and her betrothed, the latter of whom she hadn't officially met. After hearing that conversation, Danae turned away, tiptoed a few steps, then ran at full speed away from her house. She only stopped when she was at another house, not too far away. Before knocking on the front door, Danae ran all around the house, peering into every window. At fourteen, she was just tall enough. At the third window—the one to the kitchen—she found the person she was looking for. The silhouette inside the kitchen was pacing back and forth, a plate in his hands. He was humming a foreign tune to himself until Danae reached in with a hand through the window, waving urgently.
Footsteps came, and a few seconds later, a familiar face appeared at the window. The young man that approached wore a natural smile, his rose-gold locks tucked neatly behind his ear save for a few loose strands. For a moment, the sunlight in his eyes made them look more gold than brown.
"Good day, Danae, my dear," said the young man, "What news have you brought today?"
"Open! The! Door!" Danae demanded, throwing her arms up in disbelief as the male perched on his window—as if he intended to converse there. "I'll race you!"
With that said, the girl disappeared from view, running to the front door. The master of the house waited for a moment, still smiling, before moving from his spot. He strode to the door she would arrive at, opening it exactly two seconds after she knocked.
Danae ran in and immediately shut the door behind her. Then, she crossed her arms with a pout.
"Took you long enough!"
"Aww, I'm so sorry I was two seconds late," said he with a light chuckle before reaching out to pull her into his arms. He pulled her closer still with a hand on her nape and planted a kiss at the top of her head. "Now can you tell me?"
Danae stayed in his arms for only a few short moments before pulling away. She shook her head lightly.
"We can't anymore. Father had me engaged today—I heard the vows just before I came," she explained. "Oh, no, Shura...that man is so old!"
The cheerful smile on his face faded to a neutral one—one that existed merely for social functions. At the word "old", Danae shook his arms gently, as if pleading with him to think of a solution for her.
"Didn't we already know this?" he reminded her, still holding her by the elbows, even though, by now, he was really only keeping his arms there. "All that was missing were the vows."
"That doesn't mean I like it," she said, resolutely letting go. Now, she made her way to a chair and sat down. "Didn't mother summon you to protect me? You're just going to sit and watch now?"
The young man named Shura averted his gaze, glancing out one of his windows before joining Danae, taking a seat next to her.
"She didn't summon me to protect you," he corrected her, his tone reminiscent. "But that ultimately became my reason to exist."
Danae's mother had been married when she was at around Danae's age. As was customary, she made and served cheesecake to their guests. What was not customary, however, was that she managed to summon the spirit of the dish into materialization. He introduced himself as Shura Christakis, a physician of sorts, and looked almost normal, although his hair was pinker than gold, and he introduced himself as soon as he found her.
"Everyone makes cheesecake," he said, "But only you do so with so much love—and it isn't even only a hope to survive the marriage." A teasing smile and a blush later, the soul of the cake asked, "Are you actually in love?"
YOU ARE READING
Shura Christakis
RomanceA phantom borne of strawberry cheesecake who struggles between humanity and divinity. A vow of three lifetimes. A short Valentine's Day story involving love and hate, life and death.