You loved seeing Erik in the morning after a night of moderately sound sleep. Of course that hardly ever happened. Most nights were spent composing until he passed out over his piano, or on a sofa. The other nights were the nightmares. The long hours he spent screaming and shaking beside you, visiting the darkest parts of his already twisted mind. The nights where you could do nothing but whisper soothing sounds in his ear and pray it would pass quickly.
But on rare occasions your angel slept softly and soundly, often sleeping in longer than his usual crack of dawn. You would be woken during the small hours to the feeling of his head resting against yours, or the pressure of an arm wrapping around your torso.
He was still funny when it came to sleeping together. It took you months to coax him into actually sleeping in the same bed, and even so he would often wait until you were fast asleep, and then wake before dawn, as to leave no trace he was ever actually there.
It would have been a lie to say it wasn't bothersome. He was your husband after all. Even at the best of times he was cautious around your touch. Afraid that the gentlest pressure would cause you to crumble. Or that intimacy of even the smallest form would have caused a change in your feelings towards him. And no matter how many times you tried to reassure him, his actions stayed the same.
You rolled over, eyes still closed, and let your head fall into the solid form beside you. Glancing up you discovered Erik was still asleep, his body facing towards you, the mask-less side of his face pressed heavily into the pillow. He refused to sleep without his mask, even though it make him uncomfortable. You tried to persuade him to remove it, but the fear of himself still resonates strongly throughout his actions. You had grown to accept it; maybe time will be kind to the both of you. Maybe someday he'll see that there really isn't anything to be afraid of. One day he'll know that you love him regardless of the shape of his face.
You prop yourself up on one arm to watch him. Observing the rise and fall of his body with every breath. It reassured you to see him in such a peaceful state, ensuring the moment lasted as long as it could. For his sake.
Gently your free hand moves towards his face to brush some falling pieces of greying hair away from his eyes. Removing them from his face, you gently run your hands through his hair, watching as his body shifted from your touch. The corners of his malformed mouth curve into an almost smile. He looked almost blissful, as though the horrors of his past did not exist. It was just him in this one pure moment and that was all that matters.
Pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his forehead you decide to move yourself out of bed. Maybe he would appreciate something to eat when he wakes. If it weren't for you, Erik wouldn't eat at all. You stand, stretching the aches from your body before pulling the bedsheets back up towards the pillow.
He doesn't stir as you pad your way out of the bedroom, stepping across the creaks in the floorboard with the gentlest of pressures. You wondered why though. He was in such a deep sleep.
He didn't wake for several hours after that.