Chapter Eight:

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'Hey Izzy, I was just ringing to see if you are okay. It's been a week since I've heard from you. You haven't been in work at all and I was getting a little worried. Ring me back when you have chance.'

There's a click and the line becomes disconnected. I dial Chris's number from heart and press the phone against my ear. He picks up on the third ring.
"Chris?"
"Isobel!" his voice and the relief which floods through it causes my heart to constrict painfully.
"Chris." I can't help my voice from cracking with emotion.

Stay focused Isobel.

"Would you like to come round? I need your company."
I can almost feel the radiance of Chris's smile pouring through the phone at my request.
"Sure," he says softly. "I'm in need your company too. I'll be there in ten."
He says goodbye before hanging up. I stare at the phone with disbelief, listening to the monotone chord before placing the phone onto the side. I put my hand to my mouth, biting my lips hard to prevent myself from bursting into tears.

I can't do this.

Loki's voice invades my mind.

Yes, you can. You must.

Why? I demand angrily. I killed Leah - isn't that enough?

Anger heats the blood in my veins. I feel my cheeks warming and I curl my hands into fists.

Don't make me do this Loki. Please, I'm begging you.

He knows too much, Loki says like it is decided. He is a threat.

He knows nothing! I scream. You can't do this! I love him. You can't force me to do this!

Yes, I can. Besides, you love only me Isobel. I know you do.

The connection is sliced away and I am left inside my own mind once more.

Fuck you, I think quietly to myself.

***
Ten minutes later, Chris arrives and envelopes me inside a hug.
"I've missed you," he says.
"It's only been a week Chris. There was a time when you didn't see me at all."
"It killed me," he says softly. "Inside." He places his hand over his chest, covering his heart. "A piece of me felt incomplete when you were gone. I knew that I had to let you go because it was what you wanted. Even when we were young it had been your dream."
"Christopher."
He looks at me, taking me seriously.
"I..."
Chris's touches his fingers lightly to my mouth. I notice he hasn't let me go.
"Yes?"
I take a deep breath, and it feels like the burden has been lifted off my shoulders as I gaze impassively into Chris's blue eyes. The eyes of which belonged a fair haired boy, younger than he is now, clasping my hand as we entered secondary school for the first time. Remembering as we watched re-runs of our favourite programmes, throwing pieces of popcorn at one another. We did everything together - even getting the same university degrees together. As everything changed around us, one thing had always stayed the same.
Our friendship.
I can't do what Loki asked, and I won't. I never will.

"I love you."
I have finally spoken the words out loud. Somehow, they feel right as I say them. Chris presses his forehead against mine, running his fingers through my hair.
"Secretly, I always hoped you would, Isobel Jones."
Then his mouth is on mine, his hands trailing down my spine and clasping me to him. His body is pressed against me, warm and solid and protective. My hands are in his hair, our mouths exploring one another, tasting unfamiliar, exciting and sweet. His hands lightly seize my waist and I raise my head from his lips to look at him.
"Come," I whisper, kissing him softly. Although Chris is silent, his eyes are all - knowing as I take him by the hand and lead him out of the room. The bedroom is in complete darkness as I turn to look at Chris, seeing nothing more than a black silhouette standing before me. I don't need to see him to know he is there.


Slowly, I reach out and press my hands against his chest. His breathing deepens from my touch. The warmth of his body threads through my shaking fingers, his muscles hard and contract. Thumbing the edge of his t-shirt, I lift it over his head before dropping it to the floor beside me. He holds me once more, our bodies entwined within one another, his head resting comfortably against my neck, his soft snowy - down hair brushing my cheek.
"I'm ready, if you are."
His request drips with desire, and he teases a questioning kiss onto my neck, before trailing feather - like kisses along my jaw, my forehead and eventually my open and waiting lips. Sweet, so sweet.
"Yes," is all I say.
I know Chris is grinning as he takes me inside his arms and pulls me invitingly onto the bed beside him.

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