Hey guys! This is a little drabble I wrote for TWS forum for the contest Erik's I heard about the contest I had to write an entry. My muse demanded it. I hope you enjoy!
It was his birthday.
What was she to get him? It was all a matter of principal she supposed. What to get a man who could afford anything yet bought nothing? He certainly had enough paper and ink! And she had bought that for Christmas. He had not seemed happy.
He had denied he even had a birthday, said it was inconsequential. But she had insisted. It was her dear Papa's birth date that she had finally chosen.
Papa...? Christine mused. Then she lit up-an idea!
She hurried to her father's mausoleum. She knew what she could get him!
Erik paced his sitting room. She had forgotten, she had most certainly forgotten!
After all, no one could remember a ghost's birthday. She had not spoken about it since he mentioned in passing he had not remembered when his date of birth had been.
She had insisted and yet she did not remember!
There could be no birthday for a ghost.
Christine hurried to her mirror-she was not sure she had enough time. Erik would not be expecting her tonight; it was supposed to be one of her performances. She had switched with the understudy so she could have the night off just with Erik.
She arrived at the house by the lake earlier then she thought she would. She needed to catch him before he left to view her performance.
She arrived at the house and sat outside of the music room, clutching the package she held to her chest. She really hoped he liked it. It had meant the world to her.
She heard the telltale squeak of the door and saw Erik's form shrouded in darkness emerge.
He seemed shocked that she had come.
"What are you here for my dear? Have you forgotten something?" He asked quizzically. She shook her head and thrust the package forward.
"Happy birthday Erik." She said quietly. He seemed even more amazed that she had remembered. He opened the package to see a violin case. He opened it and saw a violin that was obviously well loved but past its prime.
"Christine...is this your father's?" He asked, choked up. She nodded. He sighed and set the violin aside-make no mistake, he appreciated it more than words could express. But that is not what he had wanted.
Christine noticed the expression on his face.
"I am sorry Erik...I thought that you would like it. You were so hard to look for. I-if you don't like it I could take it back..." She said, disappointed.
"Oh Christine! Never think that! I love it!" He cried. Then Christine looked at him.
"What do you want Erik?" She asked. He twisted his hands, hesitant. He asked this once before and it had not been granted.
"Two kisses, one for now and one for later." He closed his eyes, prepared for disappointment.
A set of soft lips met his and only three words were spoken.
"Happy Birthday Erik."