A/N: Hey guys! I seem to be having some difficulty with the dreaded Writer's Block, so here's a random little one shot with a sleepy Erik to tide y'all over.
Erik was exhausted. He didn't normally get tired at all, but now all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep the day away. However, that simply wasn't an option. Christine was visiting him, you see, and he didn't want to miss a moment of his Angel's blessed company. So he sat on the floor at her feet, barely awake, basking in her presence.
"Erik?" he heard her ask, causing him to force his heavy eyelids open once more, "Are you tired?"
"No," he mumbled.
"If you're tired, you really should rest," she said with concern.
"Please," he whispered, "Don't send me away. I want to be near you as often as I can." There was a long pause.
"Come here," she said.
"What?"
"Here, on the sofa."
Erik obeyed, lifting his bony frame off the floor with much difficulty and sitting down heavily on the little sofa with Christine. She clasped his shoulders and gently lowered him down so that his head was pillowed in her lap. It wasn't very difficult, for he was far too tired to make any form of protest. When she tried to remove his mask, however, she met with some slight resistance.
"No, no, please Christine, don't..." he whispered, but his protests were soon forgotten as she laid the piece of leather aside and began stroking his skeletal face. Powerless to stop the tiny moans of joy escaping from his thin, cracked lips, Erik surrendered to the wonderful sensation and fell into the sweetest slumber he had ever experienced.