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Reversed

"Where are we going?" Erik asked Christine as she pulled him through abandoned corridors in the opera house. The building was full of cast members and visitors; people from the audience tried to get acquainted with their adored singers and actresses but Christine fled from her admirers short after the performance ended, a thing she rarely did. It was suspicious enough that her husband could be seen only on nights of performances, and even then just for mere moments; she didn't wish more mystery around her. But tonight, she wanted to give full attention to her greatest devotee, her husband.

"To the roof," she said breathless while turning back just one moment earlier before she was recognized by a man who she saw earlier among her new admirers.

"Where are you going?" She asked surprised, seeing that Erik turned another way.

"I always go this way." The years he spent hiding in the tunnels of the opera house left him with habits he didn't bother to change anymore. She never complained about them, after all.

"See you on the roof, then," she giggled and run up the spiral staircase.

Once up on the rooftop, Christine took some deep breath and looked around in wonder. She always loved the snow but the view what came before her eyes, was astonishing. Only one day earlier did it snow first in that year and now pure, white snow covered the whole rooftop of the opera house. Not one footstep marked the whiteness at her feet and taking some steps in it she smiled to herself, enjoying how it crackled under her boots; suddenly she felt that thrilling sensation again what she felt as a little girl, that since it was her footsteps in the snow, it was now only hers.

The snow reflected the light of the moon and Christine marveled how the huge statues of angels glowed in the night and how icicles hang from the statue of Apollo as it guarded his frozen kingdom. The noise coming from the streets were completely absorbed by the thick cover of snow, making the excited chatter of the leaving audience almost inaudible in her ears. Perfect. It's almost as it was a year ago.

All of a sudden, her silent musing was interrupted by two arms around her waist, pulling her back and she jumped and gasped with fear, but as soon as her back hit the chest of her assailant, she relaxed immediately.

"Must you do this all the time?" She scolded him but showed no intention to leave her husband's embrace.

"No. But I like it." Leaning closer, he softly kissed her neck. "You were magnificent."

"I have the best teacher in the world," she answered, pulling his arms tightly around her shivering body and he basked in the sensation what her trust and unconditional love caused in him. They married almost a year ago but her acceptance could still surprise him. The most surprising thing was, though, that reality wasn't the end of his daydreams anymore.

"Why did you want me to come here?" He asked a minute later.

Slowly she pulled herself free from his arms and turned to face him. "Once you said you didn't like snow at all, you remember?"

"Did I?" He asked and folded his arms in front of his chest. These kind of questions were always indicating a discussion about some delicate subject and he wasn't in the right mood to talk about something like that. He never was.

"Well, you didn't really use the exact same words… You said you hated that damned winter and stormed out of the room but that's not the point now," she corrected and watched how his features became emotionless.

"And?" He pressed impatiently when she didn't continue.

"I… I think I know why you're not fond of winter, so I've brought you this."

While speaking, she reached into the pocket of her cloak and revealed a single red rose with a red ribbon around its stem. The earlier concern on his face transformed into a perplexed expression, then puzzled, and finally, into curiosity.

"Would you give me an explanation?"

She handed him the blossom. "Last winter, well, we were through very difficult times together…" She licked her lips absently. "I realized you must have not very pleasant memories about last winter." She glanced at him then her eyes immediately went back to the rose. "I'm sorry you've seen me here with him. I wish you'd forget about it, though I fear it's impossible."

"So?" He urged further, feeling that unmistakable impatience what was usually followed by a furious outburst.

"So I decided to give you a nice memory instead of that uncomfortable one." Her hands were fidgeting with the edge of her coat. "I've brought you this rose for the one I lost on that night."

That wasn't what he expected to hear from her. For moments he could only stare at the flower in his hands, fearing she'd see the remorse in his eyes for his own thoughts. Never before did he receive a gift and now he found himself wondering about what to do with it. Thanking her would be too simple, it couldn't possibly express how he felt right now, considering that he had absolutely no idea what it was he felt. Surprisingly the biggest part of it he could identify as fear but the rest of it he couldn't name.

"Why red? I mean the ribbon, of course." He whispered finally, turning the rose between his fingers.

"Black was already engaged," she chuckled and watched in awe as the corner of his lips lifted a little. He didn't smile very often but when he did, it always warmed her heart.

"I love you," he breathed against her lips before kissing her thoughtfully.

"I hoped you'd like it; it's not a traditional thing to give flower to a man," she admitted when she could speak again.

"We rarely do anything what's traditional." He pulled back but kept his hands possessively around her waist. "How could you keep it as a secret? You can't lie to me at all."

"It took all of my abilities as an actress, if you want to know," she responded sincerely before accepting his offered hand as they left for home.

Two weeks later, Christine found a little box on his desk while searching for some music sheets for her lessons. Knowing that he'd be furious if he found out she'd poked around in his belongings she still couldn't fight down her curiosity and gingerly opened the box.

In it, there was the red ribbon from the rose she'd given him.