"Mama, tell me again how you and Papa met".
A soft chuckle. "You've heard that story so many times".
"Please. Then'll I'll go to sleep, I promise".
"Alright, but get into bed. I'll tell it to you in there".
Little footsteps echoed, a kiss exchanged before Christine and Celeste departed Erik in the living room.
"Wait! Papa too. I like the way he looks at you when you tell it. It makes me happy". Small footsteps stopped in the hallway, waiting for their mother and father to catch up with her.
Celeste climbed into bed as fast as her small legs would allow, flinging back the blankets her mother had so carefully tucked in this morning. Christine took her dedicated spot at the end of the bed, and Erik sat next to her.
"Papa, no! You sit next to me. We're the audience". Celeste patted (pounded) the small area next to her.
Without protest or hesitation Erik sat beside his daughter, much to Christine's amusement.
Exchanging a look with her husband, Christine began. "Well, you remember the story of Little Lotte and her angel..." Celeste shook her head no to the rhetorical question. Christine held back a laugh at her daughter's familiar curls bobbing. "Of course you do, Celie. I'm sure you know it by heart".
The little girl shook her head again. "I remember it but I want to hear it", her small voice was muffled by her favorite blanket, pulled up to her chin as she rested with her head in Erik's lap.
Christine glanced at him, who was amused as she was with her daughter. She continued.
"My Papa told me the story of the Angel of Music, and said he would send me my angel when he left". Christine swallowed back any emotion.
"Papa was your angel!" Celeste exclaimed, bolting up from Erik's lap.
Christine chuckled. "Celie if you already know this whole story, suppose you tell it".
Serious, round eyes met her in an instant. "But you tell it better. You can keep talking it".
"'Saying', Celeste. Not talking", Erik quietly corrected her.
"You can keep saying it", she repeated, emphasizing the corrected word.
"Alright. Thank you. When I was sent to the Opera House, I looked for my angel. Everyday, I would pray, and for the longest time, nothing. I wanted my angel to come to me so terribly... But one day, my angel did come, and it turned out to be your father..." Christine paused to meet her gaze with Erik's who was staring back at her intently.
She smiled softly, knowing she had paused a little too long, suddenly feeling the urge to end the story right then and there. "And then after I found out he was a man... we married... and then this little girl came along... I forgot her name... "Christine frowned, holding back a laugh at Celeste's expression.
"Mama!" she whined, sleepiness creeping into her voice this time. Her head remained in Erik's lap and her eyes were now closed, a smile gracing her tiny, pink lips.
"Alright my dear, you need sleep now", Christine stood up, Erik soon following, gently replacing a pillow with his lap.
"But Mama that wasn't even a story!" she complained softly.
"No, Celeste. You're very tired, and you have another long day ahead of you tomorrow". Christine gently and lovingly kissed her daughter's forehead. Her little girl's head nestled against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut.
The door shut with a soft click. "She's right. That was hardly a story", Erik said quietly to Christine once they had reached the living room again.
"I know. I have other things to tend to", she murmured softly, raising onto the balls of her feet and wrapping her arms around Erik's neck. Big, blue eyes stared up at his in complete adoration and admiration and he couldn't help but brush his lips gently against hers.
"What other things?" he murmured, the most he could say as she was tenderly caressing his cheek, pressed close against him.
"My husband needs attention", Christine said softly, her eyes fighting to stay open as tiredness crept into her voice. Being a mother was more exhausting than she had ever anticipated, and her husband still needed her...
Without a word, Erik lifted her into his arms and carried her to their bedroom. Christine still felt the need to take care of Erik and Celeste, even after he had assured her countless times that he had been alone long enough to care for himself, and firmly told her that Celeste would always come first.
"No... Erik, I'm fine", Christine whined as he laid her down on the bed, getting her nightgown from the wardrobe.
"Christine, you are exhausted and just as tired as Celeste". He sat behind her and started unlacing her dress. Christine tried to turn around, attempting to kiss his neck. But her attempts at seduction were ended as he firmly turned her back to her original position, now working on her corset.
"But Erik I promised you this morning! Just because we have Celeste now, doesn't mean that we can no longer make love..." she complained, letting him take her dress and some undergarments away to slip her nightgown over her head. "I am not a child! I know how to dress myself", she continued to whine, turning to face him when he was done.
"No. That can wait. You need rest and it will be impossible to convince me otherwise". Erik stood up, removing his shirt and shoes and slipping into bed beside Christine. He blew out the candle and wrapped his arms around her, firmly kissing her forehead. "Goodnight, Christine".
Christine frowned stubbornly and tried to wriggle out of his grip, quite frustrated with him. However, she fell asleep before she was able to escape his arms.