[ WP ] A ghost that has fallen in love with a living person and is trying to communicate its feelings .

Beautiful. 
 
 Her beauty was the worst kind of tragedy. Consuming and maddening. Everything about her was perfection, yet the very thought of her was enough to cause unfathomable pain-had he had the ability to feel it. He went to her at night, as she lay in her bed, her hair tousled slightly, fanned across her pillow like an aqua wave, cascading in shining tendrils down her shoulders. Silently, he exhaled, his breath forming a halo in front of his face, catching the moonlight as he approached her bedside. She groaned and twisted, turning to her other side, her full, pink lips parted slightly as she calmed. 
 
 Her creamy, pale skin beckoned to him, calling him without words. To feel her, to taste her-he would have done anything. He would have suffered the pain of death a thousand times just for the gift of the scent of her hair. Watching, he noticed her chest, rising and falling gently in a hypnotizing rhythm. Oh, what he would do to feel her breath. 
 
 Slowly, careful not to wake her, he knelt on the bed. Though his very existence was futile, thread-bare and fleeting, he knew she would feel him. In the darkness, the deafening stillness, all he knew was her. Her eyes, their breath-taking sapphire light hidden, fluttered behind closed lids. She felt him, he knew she did. This hope was all that he needed. He clung to it like he longed to cling to her lithe, perfect body. Reaching out with trembling fingers, he stroked her skin as the emotions stroked his mind. His fingers melted, scorched by the searing heat of her tender flesh, and he sighed. He would never know the feel of her skin. Every night he tried, and thus far he failed. Again, the small sound like the mewl of a newborn kitten, and her eyes popped open. 
 
 The pain, the anguish and fear he saw there hit his heart like a thousand stabs. He hated that she felt this way. He hated that she would never know that he would give anything to take away all of her pain. She turned, and he could see the grip of panic taking hold of her. Her eyes widened, and she turned beneath him, and finally, for a split second, her blue eyes locked with his. He felt his inside jump ( Happiness? ) and a smile folded his delicate features. He leaned down to her, brushing his lips across hers gently, careful not to frighten her. 
 
 `` I love you...'' 
 
 She gasped, and he straightened. He had gone too far, and he knew it. He never wanted this. Never wanted it to come to this. For a long time he had been content just watching. Now, he needed her. As he stood from the bed, she sprung up, sitting bolt upright, her eyes darting around the room. 
 
 `` Hello? Is someone there?'' 
 
 His head hung, he turned to leave the room. As he reached the door, he turned one last time to gaze as her beauty. What he saw there made his lips curl in a smile. She had pulled her hand to her face, running her fingers across her quivering lip. 
 
 She had felt him.
