Erik watched her move through the house that he'd come to call his home over the years. Had he ever, truly, believed that he'd share it with another? With a wife? No, he hadn't.
Christine turned, her hands resting on the back of the couch where Ayesha had curled. "You're staring," she pointed out with a small smile, a hint of pink touching her cheeks.
"I am," the Phantom admitted as he stepped closer, reaching his hands out for hers. She came to him quickly and he pulled her close. "Is it wrong… to watch one's wife?"
The blush deepened and the smile grew. "No."
He swallowed hard, seemingly lost for words as he gazed down at her. She giggled at this, reaching a slim hand up to his face and caressing it. She pulled herself closer and allowed her hand to travel up his jaw line, behind his ear and into his dark hair, entwining her fingers with it. He turned into her touch, eyes lulled shut. "Erik?"
"Hmm?" His voice was quiet and his eyes still shut.
"I love you," she murmured into his ear. "More than anything." Slowly, very slowly as to show him exactly her intent, she reached her other hand up to his mask. His eyes shot open and he began to jerk away, but her eyes held him in place. "Please, Erik. It's out wedding night. We have nothing to hide any more."
He took a deep, shaky breath and nodded very slowly. Her hand slipped the mask from its place and she tossed it to the ground, kissing his marred cheek. "I love you... more than I could ever say," he whispered, voice barely audible.
A sly smile perked her lips and she stepped back. "Tell me, Erik, did you say you finally got rid of that horrible coffin?"
Her husband looked at her, startled by the change of subject. "Yes…"
"And a bed is now in your room… our room?" she pointed out.
"As you say."
"Well then," Christine said lightly, moving towards the room in question. "What say you to seeing just how comfortable it is?"
Erik was sure that his face was completely red at her words and this sent her into a burst of giggles. She grabbed his hand, leading him to the other room and the reality washed over him, but it was not as he would have thought. There were no conditions to this marriage. Only love. She was more than willing to share a marriage bed with him.
By the time they reached the bed he'd shed his jacket and vest, dropping them unceremoniously to the floor - her dress was in the process of beingundone - and stood by where she sat on the bed. His graceful hands touched her cheek briefly. "I must be the happiest man," he murmured, kissing her softly, letting his kisses wander to her jaw line and neck. She moved her hands to his shirt, slipping it downwards and her eyes fluttered open.
"Erik?"
Worry filled him at the sound of her voice. Fear, pain, anguish… he wasn't entirely sure. "What is it?"
Her pale hand traced one scar to another, tears brimming her eyes. "I'd forgotten…" she whispered.
When had she seen? Oh yes… in that cage when they had beaten him senseless and left him for dead. She'd seen old scars and new ones forming that night. It had frightened her then and made him ashamed now.
"My love," she cried softly. "How could anyone ever do this to you?"
He smiled sadly and kissed her tears. "It doesn't matter, love."
"Yes it does!" she screamed, not really meaning to. "They hurt you…. It matters."
Erik stared at her. He'd never felt such deep devotion before in his life. Not even his own mother who had given birth to him had had the compassion to spare for him, but this girl – this woman – loved him for his own sake. He pulled her close and kissed her again. "No, it doesn't" he said softly. "Because you're here."
A/N: Fluffy li'll thing... let me know if you like it.