Willem was perched atop a crumbling tombstone as he played. The cold air tousled his baby blue hair as his fingers dance over taut strings. The abandoned cemetery was haunted by his dark, delicate violin. Its voice reached out into the dark and drifted across the deserted yard.
This was a secret place, a forgotten place, hidden away from the noisy city and harsh street lights. Sweet decay and autumn leaves mingled with dry roses for the finest bouquet. This old Victorian cemetery made him yearn for an era that he could never know in place of this modern one. Willem composed his private pieces here far away from the people who scorned his dour playing.
Tonight was a special night, though. Tonight Willem played the sweetest, saddest piece he ever composed. When the last somber note died away, he slid down from where he sat.
Willem knelt next to a mossy, worn tombstone and leaned his bow and violin against it. In the flicker of the novena candle he'd lit earlier, it read "Alyse Dalton, June 2, 1881-Oct. 26, 1901" on the old slate. From his picnic basket, he took a bottle of wine, two glasses and a bundle of black roses.
Leaves rattled in the skeletal trees and the air was suddenly suffused with the scent of earl grey tea and plums. Willem felt something cold against his cheek. He looked up to see an ethereal woman and her pale lips brushed his cheek.
"Alyse..." Willem sighed.
"You play so beautifully," Alyse said "but I don't know that piece."
"I wrote it for you, my beautiful muse." he smiled. "It's called "The Moon's Last Dance." "
Willem caressed her cheek. She was thin as moonlight; he could see his hand through her. Alyse drifted around and settled next to Willem in front of her tombstone. She watched as he poured himself a glass of red wine. He filled the other glass, set it next to the candle, and reached around for the bundle of roses. "Roses, Willem?" she said. "You remembered my Death Day!"
"Of course I remembered." he smiled as he raised his glass to her. "How could I forget? It's our anniversary as well."
Willem felt the feather touch of Alyse's fingers as they stirred his hair. Her hand trailed down to a tarnished, silver locket that he wore.
He opened it and looked fondly on the faded picture of her. A year ago, Willem caught her listening to him play. She left it for him as a token of her appreciation. He'd come to see her nearly everyday since, especially on her Death Day.
"To you, my Alyse."
Willem raised his glass and swallowed his wine. It warmed him against the late October cold.
"I missed you, Wil," Alyse said as she nestled closer to him.
Willem jumped and wine sloshed out of his glass. Alyse giggled and her slender, gloved hand caressed his face. He hadn't expected her to do that!
"Alyse what--"
"Ssh," she soothed. "It's been so cold without you, so lonely."
An unseen force gently pried the wine glass from his hand. It floated to where the other was and settled next to it. The buttons on his deep blue vest started to pop off one by one...
"I want to feel you, Wil," she whispered in his ear. "Let me feel you?"
Willem's mouth worked, but no words came. He looked down at Alyse, and her innocent, pale blue eyes looked back at him. Willem's shaky hand went to her cheek. It was cool velvet to his touch and he nodded.
More buttons popped off his dress shirt and Alyse's ghostly hand slipped inside. Willem sighed at her phantom touch. It was just cool enough to call attention to itself as it trailed down his smooth, bare chest. Alyse paused at the silver buckle of his belt. She idly played with it before she gently pressed between his legs.
Willem's breath caught in his throat and she felt him grow hard under her hand. He couldn't believe that he could feel her! He pressed back and his eyes slipped shut as Alyse's phantom hand passed through his leather pants. He felt her start to gently caress his cock.
"Will you play for me?" Alyse murmured in his ear as she stroked his hair from his eyes.
Willem gasped and his hips started to rock with her hand.
