Sunlight peered in through the gauze-like curtains of the carriage and Erik winced against its blinding beam. He felt a warmth at his side and was surprised to see a sleeping Christine upon his arm, nestled into the crook of his shoulder. Rays of glowing sun highlighted strawberry hues in her hair amidst dark curls. She was beautiful; her face relaxed with sleep.
The carriage bounced about and for once during the whole tragedy that had surrounded their nuptials...he felt normal. A long ride to their marital nest, far out of the city into the rolling hills of countryside. His sweet slumbering wife resting upon him, her husband. It was a fantasy. A fantasy he knew would be destroyed when she opened blue eyes and saw whom upon she lay so peacefully. She stirred as if she had heard inner thoughts and lifted her head, rubbing at her eyes.
Her head turned shyly to meet Erik's gaze; her cheeks still warm from his shoulder. "Did you find rest, Christine?" He asked carefully behind the mask. She nodded, embarrassed and turning fumed cheeks away to the curtained window. Her hand came up slow to part the fabric which obstructed her view. A cold hand shot out to grasp at her wrist.
"Tsk, tsk...we can't have the townspeople sparking rumors already... now can we?" His tone was mocking and he did not let go of her.
"I'm sorry..." She whispered, pulling her hand away, though he was reluctant to let go.
"You'll see your precious sunlight soon enough, my dear."
She swallowed dry, leaning her body over to the carriage wall, opposite Erik's dark figure, her curls resting on the window. "Only an hour more, I promise. Should I stop the carriage soon? Are you hungry?"
"No, Erik..." Her voice barely escaped a whisper, "...thank you." He missed the warmth from her. "I hope you like this change of homestead. You are out of those dark cellars as promised, and out of the bustling city as well. You do love the country, don't you?"
"Oh," she replied softly. "Very much. I lived in the country when I was small. I enjoyed it immensely." She shifted nervously, not allowing her skirts to touch his pant leg.
He looked down and noted her avoidance of him and he purposely moved closer so she had no choice but to let delicate skirts brush against him. She took in a shaky breath.
"Why are you still so afraid? You weren't nearly as afraid of me down below all those cellars in dark catacombs. I bring the monster out into the light and there is no hiding..." She let guilty eyes wandered back to the curtain.
"Were those kisses for me truly just to prolong your young mans life?" She stayed silent. "Christine?" His eyes narrowed on her seeking an answer even if he knew it was a lie.
"No, Erik" she said shaking her head and keeping gaze at his boots. He let his fingertips brush with her chin and rose her countenance, staring with tear filled eyes. "Erik," she whimpered, pleadingly, down casting eyes.
"No, look at me. Look upon your husband." She blinked away tears; a sob gasping her breath.
"Christine..." He chided, "...am I truly so terrible? My face, my crimes...they will never dissolve into something acceptable for the world. Yet you try to make everything around you as such. Did I keep you locked away in the dark? No. I brought you up and out into the light that I have too much hatred for. You crave unconditional love as I do ...yet you fight it. I can be that love, Christine...I can give you what you want. I had hoped that you would return only an ounce of it. It would make me the happiest of men."
He let fingers creep up her hair and then down the smoothness of her cheek, wiping away trails of tears and breaking their determined path.
She sobbed, clutching onto him and burying her head in his shirt, hot years soaking through to his chilled skin.
"Christine..." He breathed, surprised that he found solace in his embrace. Awkwardly he let his arms come around her tiny figure, holding her as she sobbed. "Please don't cry, Christine...you know how it pains me."
"How can you love me?" A little voice cried out against him making him shiver.
"How can I not?" She shot her head up. "Don't love me! Just don't! I only bring pain with anything my heart attaches to!"
He pried her from him to look into her eyes. "I can't. That's the thing with love, Christine. It's eternal and ever burning. It can never be snuffed out...even by your incessant pleading."
Her innocent façade and those deep pools of blue captured him in a spell, impulse driving him to bend down to reach her lips with his own. He pressed a fervent kiss to her though his mask hindered a proper touch. He was abrupt and hungry otherwise. She whimpered a cry; one he couldn't tell if its inception was from relief or protest.
He held her face in his hands, her eyes fearful as she shut them, staying within his hold as the dutiful wife obeying her husband.
"Look at me. You are afraid! And why? Have I hurt you? Or are you only disgusted and frightened of the ugly lips that taint your perfection?"
"No!" She cried out.
"Then why!" His angelic voice again transformed and he spat the words, hands running down her arms and then holding tight.
"Your temper! The anger in your eyes at every turn! The violence you've committed! You touch me with such hints of violence, you touch me with hands that have been covered in blood! You're a murderer, Erik! How can I not be afraid!" She lowered her head and sobbed, ducking lashes. She was trembling.
"I would never harm you! You know that!" He breathed, seething. "Don't tell me those men who met their end at my hand didn't deserve their fate!"
"You are not God, Erik." She whimpered.
"I am the devil thought, aren't I?
"Am I deserving of such crimes? I have done nothing but hurt you...betray you! Will you let me meet the same fate because I deserve it?" Christine sobbed and the sound filled the little calash.
"Nothing you could do would bring me to harm you...let alone take your life!"
"Yet you would kill others in my stead. You've murdered in my name!"
"I risk my own life bringing you out in the country. All in attempt to grant you a normal life."
"I had a normal life Erik! You've taken it away. You've taken all I've known to build me a new life that you deem acceptable. Did you ever ask me if I wanted this?"
"How dare you! You little ignorant child! You made the choice to be mine. You could have left."
"And watch as my friend lay dying because of me? You knew I would forsake my freedom to save his life."
"Regardless of what you may think, you chose me. You are my wife. This life I am building for you is for the better. I do everything in your best interest."
"Mine or yours?"
"Damn you!" He snapped and she shrank against the calash's cushion. "Damn your blinding innocence! It has consumed my being and made an obsession of your love. Can you ever forgive me for keeping you as my treasure? One day your tears will dry and you will love me. Plenty of arranged marriages start off as cold as this. They only warm over time! You wanted a husband to love you...even if he is a masked murderer. He loves you still."
She let tears fall and he ignored them. And as the calash's carried in towards their future he was confident he could make her love him in time. His little bride.