There's Something Sweet & Almost Kind

A few weeks passed and the harsh aspirations to return to the surface had subsided. It dawned on Christine that this was her life now and every time she prayed – or cried herself to sleep…she knew that there was nothing she could do. Although she missed Raoul and she most definitely pined for the company of Meg – it dawned on her now that she could not dwell in this misery forever. Because this was her life. Her new life. And she knew that her weeping was worthless. If anything it upset them both. He had lost his temper the last time he saw her cry and so, Christine had always made sure her sobs were silent or muffled. But he still noticed. And it made things worse.

Brushing her dry cheek with her hand, Christine closed the door to their home quietly. She held the laundry weakly in her arms and was turning towards a corridor when she heard the 'meow.' Out of shock, Christine had almost dropped the clothes. She turned and for a moment – as she gazed at the grey-furred creature – Christine did think she was hallucinating. For weeks, she had spent all her time alone. She had seen Erik sometimes but for the most, she strayed away from him. As if by ignoring him, he would understand that she did not wish to be there. The appearance of something new – it made her heart feel light and she found herself crouching and glancing at the kitten with shiny eyes. The tiny, stray that had slipped through her open door meowed in pleasure as Christine stroked the top of its head. "You'll stay with me…won't you?" Christine asked, as she sat there, entirely overwhelmed by the warm touch she had been deprived off for so long.

But Christine's joy was not to last. She had watched, nervous as he came home and wiped his muddy shoes on the entrance mat. Christine had pleaded. But she had been dismissed with a cold and unwarlike, "No." No. Simple as that. Christine had never felt her heart submerge to such depths. Tears had filled her eyes and her jaw had fallen,

"But Erik," The use of his name was dry on her tongue. She swallowed painfully, "-Erik, it's – I'll take care of him! You won't even-"

"Do not argue, Christine!" He snapped, "It cannot stay here."

"Please, Erik. P-Please-"

"No." He didn't even look at her and left the room – ignored the way that Christine held the small, meowing thing so lovingly. When he left, there was a silence in the room as the grey kitten meowed sleepily. Christine fell to the floor and shut her eyes as she heard the thunder outside. The rain was loud and heavy. A good wife never defied her husband! She had to remember that. But the kitten was a child. It was a baby. Christine took pity on it and she hid him in the tiny cavern beneath their staircase. Wiping lonely tears from her eyes, she stroked the top of its furry head once more and left.

The sound of the raindrops prevented Christine from getting any sleep. She rolled around in her bed and after a few moments, decided that she would see how her kitten was doing. Her beloved did not speak to her for the rest of the evening. Christine had retired to bed early and had not attempted conversation. Normally, Erik would knock on her bedroom door and bid her a good night – of which she would reply with equal warmth. But he had not tonight. The idea that he was angry with her almost forced her to cry again. For she was trying to be a good wife.

But their marriage did not resemble the marriage she had dreamt of. They did not share a room and the love she felt for him lost light everyday. He was a good husband. He very rarely lost his temper now. He cooked for them. He serenaded her with song. But Christine could not accept him. As much as she pushed her heart to press a soft kiss on his cheek – or in the very least, touch his hand…it could not. She was met with a barricade of fear. For he made it very clear that he loved her. But she feared him. She feared him so much that sometimes, the very sound of his footsteps would make her tremble.

Approaching the bottom of the staircase, Christine found herself stunned motionless as she realized that there was someone sat on the bottom step. A candle illuminated the scene and his shadow was clear and visible. She pressed down a stricken breath and she willed herself to return to her quarters immediately – but then she began to hear his voice. And a soft, but still audible-

Meow.

Peering in closer, Christine realized that the small creature was with Erik. The kitten was lying by the front door, stretching out innocently. Quietly, she began to descend and she realised as she got closer that Erik had a soup bowl in front of him. And beside it, was a milk bottle. She found her head alight with thoughts as his head turned towards her. Christine stopped instantly, eyes wide as she expected him to suddenly reprimand her back to bed. But he did not and the gaze she was met with was one of peace.

"It looked thirsty." He commented before turning away again.

But he showed no warmth towards animals, her mind reminded her – entirely baffled by this. Christine found herself calming considerably as she found herself sitting on a step just above where the man sat. "You can feed him," He told her quickly. Christine glanced at him – realizing that this was the closest they had been for weeks. In fact, this was probably the first time they had talked in such an odd hour. And also, the first time Christine had realized that the room had no form of intensity. No tenseness. Just calm. "No," She murmured smiling softly, "You can."

Christine sensed hesitance in the way he poured the milk into the bowl. Embarrassment, even. She didn't understand why for what he was doing was almost – it was almost nice. Aware of the rain thudding outside, Christine watched as the small kitten noted the offering and approached the bowl. Peeking inside, the grey creature began to consume the milk with such hunger that Christine almost felt her heart sigh. She glanced at Erik who seemed entirely fixated on the kitten eating. His eyes looked almost moved by it. Inspecting him, Christine realized that he did not look so rigid.

"Thank you, Erik." She told him, watching as he turned his body back towards her direction.

"You are welcome, Christine." The short, almost dismissive retorts that came out of his mouth was something Christine was used to. He didn't like conversations much, and she understood. To be honest, she didn't either – but the lopsided smile that had formed on her face after watching him pour the milk into the bowl had not faded.

As if she couldn't be anymore surprised, Christine watched as Erik's hand – with a small tremble- reached out to touch the top of the kitten, only to retreat. There was a mutter – he was clearly scolding himself. There had been a tug in Christine's heartstrings and she found herself opening her mouth to hinder him from admonishing himself,

"No…it's…it won't," She stammered as she – as a demonstration – reached out herself and stroked the top of the kitten's fur. Erik watched, entirely overwhelmed. Christine smiled tenderly and gestured for him to follow. "Just be gentle," She added, hazel eyes observing as he tried again. His hand slowly approached and with a small quiver, his fingers brushed against the tips of the kitten's fur.

Christine eyed his face and she could see the concentration he pushed into the small, almost meaningless gesture. He caressed the kitten for a few moments and Christine found herself locking eyes with him. There was something different in his gaze – something that she could not fully recognize. She wasn't sure if it was joy – or just kindliness. But as she stared at him, she found her own eyes glazing at this unbelievable change of heart.

"I did it, Christine!" He said – almost like a child, proud of something they had attained at school. She nodded and for a moment – as she gazed at his face – she almost saw, at the corner of his lips…a small tug. A smile, almost. And she was entirely engulfed in him. She found herself swallowing stiffly and nodded, trying her best to sort out her feelings. She suppressed the urge to laugh – and cry. Christine just smiled to hide the battle within her. For the honesty and genuineness he exuded - it made her believe that this was some dream.

The kitten retrieved its mouth from the inside of the bowl and bared its tiny teeth as it performed a small, adorable mewl. Christine smiled – in fact, she almost laughed as Erik glanced back at her – entirely unsure if he should be concerned or not. "I think he's sleepy again," She nodded, watching the understanding dawn on his face as he turned back to observe the animal. Christine could not remember how long it had been since she felt this peace. Since she had smiled for this period of time.

She hoped, he realized it too. Christine liked to think he did because of the way his body radiated such warmth to her. The kitten seemed to absorb it as it padded towards him. She watched, utterly enthralled as Erik offered a hand and the grey kitten began to caress its head onto his palm, meowing softly. His hand did not tremble anymore. In fact, Christine thought he was almost enjoying it. "He likes you." She retorted softly, and felt an odd feeling swell inside of her as he looked back and nodded graciously. He was always so cold towards touch. Always so secure. She always thought that if she touched him - he would flinch and be enraged.

But right now, he was so vulnerable. So simple. Something Christine almost felt entirely at a loss by.

It was dark where they sat but for once, Christine felt no fear. Almost to prove this, she found herself placing a tentative hand on his back – completely by her mind's accord. Instantly, she felt herself go rigid as she realized what she'd done. They had never engaged in such contact in this bond of marriage. Even with something so simple. But he did not reproach or reprimand her. She was glad for the touch meant a lot to her. The warmth beneath the fabric of his shirt. So human. It calmed her. Soothing. Christine had ached for a warm touch - and it had been here all along..."I'm sorry for being an awful wife," She found herself spluttering out as her fingers gripped the back of his shirt. His neck turned towards her and his eyes engaged with hers, clearly perplexed,

"You have not been awful." He told her delicately, "Christine you have been a wonderful wife."

Realizing that tears were lining the bottom of her eyes, Christine found herself sniffing inwardly, unsure why he'd say such words. Was he saying it to mock her? To make her feel even more guilty? "How? How have I been wonderful?"

"By enduring me." The sincerity of the words caught the back of her throat and she found herself breathing more deeply. His eyes seemed to fall as he continued, "I have not been a well-mannered husband."

It was clear to say that Christine could not argue. He had not been well-mannered but her crimes had been greater. For every day of their marriage, she had wished and prayed that she was somewhere else. He had lost his temper – once or twice. And yet, she had spitefully wronged him every day with her sinful thoughts. She was now confused as to why she wanted to leave. Why it was. For right now, the Erik she was seeing was so adoring and kind. Perhaps if she had seen this more often…

Perhaps it would have been different. The way he stared at her and the way he approached the kitten – it almost reminded her of the way he was all those years ago. That kind, mysterious angel who took a lost ballerina beneath his wing. Oh, she should be so grateful to him! But she had not been. Because of everything. Because of what he did. But right now, as she stared at him, she found the shadows of what had happened fading behind a veil in the backdrop. She watched as the kitten curiously pressed up against his hand and Erik tried to catch its paw with the other.

There was a different side to her husband after all.

"Do not look sad, Christine," He told her, tone feather-like, "I do not wish to argue anymore."

"I don't, either." Christine admitted with a small smile.

"I'm - I'm sorry, Christine." Erik's eyes were too difficult for Christine to figure out. She wasn't sure what he was sorry for. For doing what he did. For doing what he was doing now. But he had never apologized before. And somehow, somewhere deep - she had a feeling that he was sorry for everything. For everything that had caused them both pain.

"I'm sorry too." She nodded back, the grip on his shirt relaxing lightly. There was a moment there - a moment of silence afterwards where they both just stared. And for a little while, the ache inside went away.

For the rest of the night, against the backdrop of the darkness and the storm that raged outside – Christine conversed with him almost as casually as she had with him all that time ago. She had even laughed! The noise of it – something she thought she would never hear again. They had argued nonsensically about names. About the weather! And everything that had happened to them took a back step. Christine could not remember a time where she had not shed one tear. A time, where misery was not present.

The monster that she had married had not shown his character. Christine had met an entirely different man. One that had made her smile almost consistently. For once, she felt safe. She felt like she was in no danger. In no position to be defensive. Eventually the minutes turned into hours and their new companion had fallen asleep.

Now in her bed, Christine could feel her heart still beating as the surprise stayed close to her heart. The surprise of what she was now faced with. Her hand was tingling for it had been plastered to him for who knew how long. What was she to think of him now? But before contemplating it, she heard a soft knock on the door. Christine blushed with pleasure as she realized he had not forgotten... and how she had been vacantly waiting for it.

"Good night, Christine." His voice told her with its usual gentleness.

"Good night…Erik." She returned back to him, knowing he would notice that she had never greeted him with his name before. Christine noted that he stayed outside of her bedroom for a few moments before going back to his own room at the end of the hall.

There were a few minutes of silence as Christine found her body drifting off to sleep. She turned and clasped her hands together in prayer. With her eyes closed, she decided she would have no need for long prayers tonight. Not like it had been for the past few weeks. Because her prayers of… returning home and being taken back to the people who loved her did not need answering after all.

Inside Christine knew that there might be a chance – just a glimmer of hope…that what she had been praying for had been here all along.

For the first time ever, Christine knew that she would wake up and actually be glad that she was his. Because there was something behind that man. Something mysterious yet kind. And beautiful. And sweet.

Something there that wasn't there before.

A/N: Inspired by 'Beauty & the Beast' of course. My darling young siblings watched the movie about non-stop for two days and I decided to sneak a glance one time today and was inspired. Thanks for reading as always. I hope it gave you nice fuzzy, feelings. That's all I ever ask of you, lovely readers. Thanks a lot.