Author's Notes: Sometime my Muse presses something into my head that has to be written, as was the case with this story. I hope you enjoy reading it, although I wrote it to shut her up.
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The darkest night does not begin to describe the evening. The storm clouds blocked out the stars and moon in the sky. If it were not for the city in the distance buzzing with life and light, it would be pitch black outside my bedroom windows.
I closed the heavy dark purple drapes. To me it was about to be pitch black, as soon as I turned off the nightly news. Once the glow of the television darkened, I sank into my large empty bed with my eyes closed, as I submerged into pure darkness. A few deep breaths and the sound of cars driving by lulled me off to slumber.
My dream created restlessness in me. My eyes fluttered open and closed trying to grasp the end of the dream, to remember why I needed to wake as a soft white light filled my room. I was talking to someone. Someone I missed. Someone I loved.
"Daniel," I whispered to the glowing light in our room, as the edges of my dream flowed back into my mind.
"Helen, I've missed you so," he said. Daniel's voice was barely audible, as if pouring into me through the dream. "My darling wife, even after all this time, you do still love me."
"All this time?" I said, questioning everything except the conversation with my deceased husband.
"After five years you're still so beautiful," he said. "You haven't aged a day."
He was the one who had not aged, quite the opposite in fact. He was nude and illuminated the room as if he were an angel. His blond hair was beyond his shoulders, his muscled body more defined, and his eyes shone with unnatural light.
I wanted to scream as I finally questioned him above me. His words and his own questions crested and fell with my heartbeats.
"It has only been a year, Daniel. It's been almost one year since you left me," I said. Tears crawled down my cheeks. I was overwhelmed with joy and fear.
"I didn't want to leave you, Helen. I'm so tortured without you, this must be a dream." He floated down on top of me, his icy hands seeking to soothe me through the bed covers. His body felt solid despite his gauzy appearance as it pressed me into our bed.
He touched my lips with his own. I gasped at the coolness of them, the shock of it all. He caressed my face and that touch was cold as well. I could not deny that he did feel real, and if real what was he now?
We touched each other tentatively, afraid to break the spell that let us be together. He gripped the bedding over my naked body and pulled them away. Daniel spread my legs and met with little resistance at my tight core. His member pressing into me brought my sex to life. I sighed, as he felt familiar but deathly cold as he pumped in and out of my body.
Twelve Years Later...
I paced the floor of my bedroom, anxious to see Daniel. He appeared every four years at midnight on the eve of February 28th crossing into the Leap Year day. 11:58pm the alarm clock displayed on its plastic face. The world would stop for me in two minutes.
The veil of night would open long enough for Daniel to slip through, to return to my life as a ghost of the man I knew. He was always confused at first. Grateful, but lost as he tried to remember that time passed differently for me than him.
I had started dying my hair, to cover the gray ones that began to sprout up like weeds in my auburn-colored hair. I worked out like a possessed woman, but I could not get rid of the pouch that my stomach had now.
When Daniel arrived the last time I hadn't really changed so much, but four more years had aged my body. I even shaved my downy patch between my legs for fear that he would see that some of the hairs had turned gray. I wanted to look as beautiful as Daniel remembered me, although he never said I was anything other than perfection.
Midnight had come and gone, still no sign of Daniel. I opened my new cell phone and read the display. 03-01-00 it said. I began to cry as I realized that there would be no February 29th this year. How could I not remember that? How could I forget that it was a not a Leap Year?
Eight Years Later...
I was too nervous tonight. Four years since the last time I saw Daniel; would he still find me beautiful? I had put on a little weight since the last time he'd visited. My hair was mostly gray and it looked awful if I colored it. The lines on my face told a story of aging.
I paced, constantly checking the alarm clock display. Midnight came finally and Daniel was exactly as I'd him seen last. I quickly explained away all his usual questions. He said it still, even with my looks fading, that I was his beautiful wife.
"I love you, now and forever, Daniel," I said as he filled me with his cold flesh. He thrust into me, and I silently thank KY for its wonderful lubing abilities. His skin was colder than the reverse side of my pillows. It felt as if that was the only change. His vitality, virility, and perfect visage were ironic in the face of his death.
I prayed and wished we had more time. He would be gone by the morning light. His kiss was cold and pain; it was filled with such longing. I refused to let him go. If only I could keep him inside my body forever. I missed him more than ever, even with him sliding in and out of me.
After I climaxed for the third time I was aware that he would leave soon, the sky was full of purples and blues, rather than black with sparkling stars. My tears stained my pillow. The grief of losing him again was too much to feel. It hurt every time he visited me.
His hands ran up and down my body, pinching and playing. His frosty touch was his silent way of saying he wanted more sex from me. Our bedroom reeked from the hours of fucking, because we could no longer make love. There was no time for it.
