Christine hummed to herself tunelessly and set the lunch things on the tray. She looked around herself as she waited for the kettle to boil and sighed.

It had been two weeks since they had been married. One week since they were able to move out of the house that Nadir was renting. And a whole twelve hours since they had been able to agree on a colour for the master bedroom.

Things. Are. Good.

The kettle on the stove whistled, she filled the teapot on the tray and set the kettle back on the stove. Lifting up the tray she headed up the stairs to the master bedroom. She nudged the door with her foot and paused. He had insisted on tinted plaster for the master bedroom. She had originally wanted a pale blue similar to the sky at dawn. And Erik not wanting anything remotely dark, for obvious reasons, had wanted a Tuscan yellow. Somehow they had managed to agree on a pale silvery green, which was being applied to walls by a master.

Was there anything her man couldn't do without it turning out to be a symphony?

She laughed to herself, the answer to that was a resounding no. There was nothing Erik could do without infusing it with music. Their entire house was a testament to that fact from the mouldings; to the balustrade to the way the woods curved and wrapped the house like a melody around a base line. Or how Erik wrapped himself around her at night. She couldn't ask for a better husband and she didn't want to. Everything was so different from how it was below the opera, better, he listened to her and did not try to dictate her every move. They were in this together, and though he didn't have to he proved to her and himself everyday. And she didn't need any kind of crystal ball to see that he was happy. It was shining in his eyes every second of every day.

She leaned against the doorframe watching the muscles in his back dance as they supported the master and his trowel. He had his shirt off and a more lovely sight she was certain she had never seen. Oh he had scars a plenty that was for certain but it didn't matter all the mattered was the strength in the muscles that were below his skin and how they moved as they stretched and contracted. It was like ambrosia and her eyes were starving.

Her eyes drifted along the column of his back to the top of his trousers and then circled back up along his side where the proof of Darius's cooking was making itself known. Erik would always be on the thin side but the gauntness was out of his frame and the planes of his body that were once sharply angled were smoothing out into amazing lines. Her eyes moved along his arm and across the lean muscles so powerful and so precise yet warm and comforting. Michelangelo himself could not have sculpted such perfection. Her eyes moved to his neck and up to his face that wonderful, damaged, amazing and lovely face. He was mask less and in her opinion, now, he should stay that way. She knew he wasn't happy that she had stolen his mask and hidden it; but she didn't care.

"The tea is going to get cold." He said with a smirk as he took the tea tray from her and set it on the make shift table of a plank and saw horses.

"Oh." She replied non-committally.

"Christine?" He asked looking at her with concern. "Are you all right?"

"Just fine." She said with a smile and walked up to him wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. He responded to her willingly with a contented sigh as he picked her up and carried her to the finished bedroom down the hall.

~Finis

A/N: Just a little something I had in my head hope you liked it. Leave a review in the box please!