Snowdrop (A Frankenstein Story)

Chapter 8

Darkness cloaked the house of Sir John, muffling the late night gossip of servants and the general creaking of the old house. For Georgia, however, the events of the past few days had nearly been too much for her and so she lay still as death in her bed. The window to her room sat open and the warming spring air wafted into her room. It had been quite an adjustment sleeping in the room once more: she no longer had a piano to occupy her or a patio door that beckoned a stranger.

She waited as long as she could for him, but she was weary and sleep could no longer be avoided. Against the wall near her open window was a small writing desk and on it sat the food she managed to commandeer for her visitor. She left it covered in case he finally came and needed it. He would find her to be a compassionate host.

It wasn't until one in the morning that Georgia's nocturnal quest arrived. There was no moon this night and even if there had been, the collection of clouds above would have kept her secret that night. The creature, however, was not deterred by the absence of natural light, Victor had endowed him with superb sight. He could see Georgia's small frame beneath a collection of blankets ruffled around her. Her beautiful hair fell over her pillow in subtle waves of curls.

The creature felt a powerful longing as he beheld her. Caution and the remembrance of the De Lacey's and the villagers he met at the beginning of his life made him leery of all, but this did not stop the creature. With trembling fingers, he reached out and moved a curl from her face. The feel of her soft cheek pressed against his fingers as he brushed away the lock of her hair nearly brought him to his knees. Georgia murmured as she moved in her sleep. Instinctively, the creature backed from her.

"Don't go," she whispered. He knew then that she was awake and actively seeking him out in the darkness. "Stay with me."

"Go back to sleep, Georgia," he whispered gently. Instead of obeying him, she sat up in bed and peered into the silent void of night.

"You can see me, can't you?" she asked. His voice croaked out a response, causing him to wince. "That isn't fair."

He smiled to himself. "What isn't?"

"You know what."

Her feet slipped from beneath the covers. Hands reached out, searching for him. The creature backed away from her as she drew closer. She stumbled slightly and in an instant, he caught her.

"Georgia, please, sit down. You cannot see. You might fall and someone will come. We'll be found and I—" Will be killed and your screams would fill the air.

The fear in his voice was endearing, but she would not endanger her friend, not when she felt so safe in his arms. "You'll always be here to catch me, though."

Her hands ran up his arms towards his shoulders. He stopped her just before she reached his neck. The evidence of her disappointment was clear, but he noticed her delight when his fingers looped around hers.

"You are very tall, my poet. I don't think I could reach your face if you stood up straight." She paused a moment. "Why are you so afraid of me touching and seeing you?"

He tried to draw away from her, but she held on fast. "Victor made me. . . hideous. You would be so very frightened of me."

"Did you have a duel with him? I cannot imagine how he walked away unscathed. Did he cheat?" But she did not wait for his response. Georgia brought his hands to her face, he obliged reluctantly. She then pressed his palms against her cheeks and felt him shudder. "I need you, my poet. I need you to trust me."

He trembled and fought the urge to kiss her. He could see her quiver, but not in fear. What a curious thing. She flattened his hands against her face and felt his warmth seeping into her. Oh, how he desired her!