Stirring slightly in her slumber, Christine rolled deeper into the blankets, her barely conscious state already hungering for their warmth. Stretching out her legs she felt her feet collide with something warm and soft, and a scarce few moments later she felt a sharp pain in the soles of her feet and quickly pulled her legs back, yelping out in pain. "Goodness!," she breathed, curling her knees to her chest and hesitantly peering beneath the blankets. Was it only her imagination? No, she could see several small circles of blood forming around her heels. What in the world?
A cat! A small white cat stared back at her, and she could nearly see her own reflection in the creatures glass-like eyes. Letting out a small sigh of relief she was content to find that this was no monster under her bed, but merely a petite Persian cat, and a very well groomed one at that. "Come here, kitty.." she whispered, hesitantly reaching out her fingers. She wondered where the cat had come from, and how it had possibly found Erik's home. It wore a heavy diamond collar around it's furry neck, looked very well fed, and, as she looked closer, Christine realized even her claws seemed to be well taken care of! The cat, however, was not as friendly as Christine had hoped. She took a small step closer and then stuck out her nose to smell Christine's outstretched hand. Releasing a small giggle at at first feeling the cat' pink nose, Christine soon felt herself a fool when she watched the cat blink up at her, then turn and promptly prance away. 'Hmmph!' Christine breathed, but said nothing. It's only a cat, she reasoned, but she couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit offended.
Slowly rising from her bed she stretched her arms high above her head and looked around lazily, comfortable in this exotic sleeping area. The first time she had awoken here was a time of excitement, confusion, and intrigue. Now, she still felt all of those things, but there was an element of comfort she hadn't developed at the beginning, and as she reached to pull on her dressing robe, she found herself feeling very much at home.
I wonder where Erik is, she thought, pulling her feet into the small white slippers that had been laid out at the end of her bed. A perfect fit, she thought pleasantly, though she couldn't deny feeling a bit embarrassed at having a man pick out her slippers. It wasn't the slippers, she reasoned to herself, it was the attention he gave her in its entirety. Never before had she been put first in someone's life, and though she scarcely knew this man at all, there was no doubt in her mind that he valued her, on a musical level, at the very least. It made her feel special, important, even, dare she think it, loved, to have someone dedicate so much time and effort to ensuring her happiness. But in the same light, it also made her feel weary and uncertain. She hadn't told anyone, not even Meg!, about her An- Erik, rather, and she wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to. What would they say? What would she say? How could she possibly ever explain…them? She and he…together? Feeling a small tint rise in her cheeks at the thought of them 'together', she shook her head and went by a long learned motto. Worries can't be made on an empty stomach.
Walking out to Erik's music room, Christine stopped to admire the decoration in his home. Carefully placed candles were lit as far as she could see, stacks of music were piled neatly on side tables and writing desks, and, she blushed, her favorite piece of his artwork - sketches of her so beautiful it took her several moments to recognize her plain self within his perfect portrayl of a woman much more lovely than she. "Erik?" She called out softly, her eyes scanning the area for his tall, lithe form. She spotted him easily, sitting at his organ bench, a bottle of ink balanced carefully in the palm of one hand, the other stroking a small cat. A cat! The cat! The tiniest bit of jealousy twisted in Christine's stomach as she saw the tender way he caressed the cat's slender back. Don't be a twit, she thought inwardly, and as she approached quietly cleared her throat. "E-Erik?" She called out again, a bit louder, this time.
Jumping a bit in his seat, Erik turned quickly to face her, embarrassed that he had not heard her quiet approach. "Ah, my dear, so you're awake. I apologize for any noise I may have made throughout the night and earlier this morning, I've been working on finishing a piece I begun quite a long time ago." He paused awkwardly, afraid he had already said too much, seemed too over eager. "I do hope you understand"
Nodding her head a bit, she offered her a small smile and was at a loss for words. The serene comfort she had felt in her bedding area had left her now, and instead she felt a timid hesitance overcome her. What to say to this-this Erik? He was certain to find her foolish and gauche, embarrassing and childish… A hundred stories and songs rolled around in her head, but she felt too afraid to begin any of them, for fear that he would find them all a pitiful attempt at being funny.
Sensing her discomfort Erik frowned a bit behind his mask and rose silently, returning her small nod. "I will prepare tea in the kitchen again and you're welcome to join me for breakfast, if you so wish. If not, the library is, as you know, always open to you, as is your room." He saw the reserved way she stood there, watching him, waiting for him to make his move. His eyes lit up as she began to step towards him, though he couldn't for the life of him decide if it was the tea that had motivated her or not.
Holding out his hand for her his brain screamed at him to smile, to whisper words of comfort, to do something, anything to ease her obvious uncertainties. "You may have a voice lesson after breakfast, if you'd like." At this her eyes instantly lit up and he felt his heart give a pleasant jump when she placed her small hand within his palm. Sitting once more at his small table, Christine settled into the seat and glanced around at her surroundings, her eyes resting on the bottle containing honey. She smiled, remembering its sweet and unusual taste, something all those who she knew upstairs had never had before, and could probably never grow to appreciate. It's a shame though, she thought, because underneath it's strange appearance, it's a very enjoyable taste. As her eyes regained focus from their brief day dream, she realized that her view of the delectable honey was being blocked. That damned cat! She thought furiously, and then was instantly appalled at herself for even thinking such vile language. Madame would be infuriated, she thought miserably, taking it upon herself to be humiliated in Madame's absence.
"Mon ange? Is everything alright? You appear to be…unhappy. Is there something I can do to assist you?" Erik's voice instantly brought her back to reality, and she blushed a hot red at having been caught in another daydream.
"No! I mean, to say, no thank you, I'm fine, I was merely…thinking." She smiled sheepishly up at him, wishing away the red heat that shone from her face and neck.
Giving her a small nod, Erik poured her a steaming cup of tea and paused while he was tilting in the honey. "Do you wish to try something else? I have other combinations that offer a variety of tastes if you so wish to try them." Why must you sound like a ten year old school boy? He thought bitterly. It's so apparent to her how inexperienced you are, how foolish. You can scarcely be certain she sees you as a man, much less a gentleman, and not a monster.
"Honey would be delicious," she said quietly, her eyes meeting his for a brief moment, and her lips flickered into a gentle smile. Sitting across from her Erik stirred his tea with a spoon, but refrained from drinking. As he began to clear away sparse sugar from the table settings Ayesha sprang to the table, looking to lap up a few delectable morscels.
"Ah, my favorite leading lady is hungry, hm?" Christine could have sworn there was a chuckle in a voice as he spoke, and she could hardly contain her agitation. She's his leading lady? She thought bitterly, and then, cross with herself more so than the cat, thought, Christine! It's a cat! You're being ridiculous.
"I see you've met my Ayesha," Erik said carefully, noticing for the first time the narrowed glint in Christine's eyes. Can she…Dare I think it, be jealous? No, certainly not, perhaps she just has a natural disdain for felines. It's quite possible as they rarely allow pets in the dormitories… "I adopted her several years ago, after finding her near frozen to death in a snow bank. Her breed is a rarity these days, a pure Persian." He paused and held her out a bit farther, as though for Christine to examine her for the first time.
"She is very beautiful," Christine reasoned, allowing herself to smile a bit. If not for the cat, at least for that warm tone in Erik's voice when he spoke of her. Christine was unable to ignore the haunting voice in the back of her mind that whispered, 'You just wish you were the cat'
Nodding he leaned down to gently place Ayesha on the floor by their feet, and looked Christine straight in her chocolate brown eyes. "Yes, my dear, you are quite right - I tend to have a very strong appreciation for beautiful things."
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Please R&R! And sorry this chapter is lame : it'll be better, I promise!