Sweet Seduction

Chapter Four: Apartments, Domestic Demands, and Peppermints

A/N: Wow, pretty productive week so far! I've written a new oneshot "Password Unacceptable",updated this fic and (hopefully) Chapter Five of this story will be updated Friday or Saturday! As London Tipton says "Yay me!"

And yeah, I know, unique (and by that I mean)strange chapter title, but it'll all make sense once you start reading.

Start reading ;)

Erik sat at his desk, marveling over the events of the past week. After Don Juan, he and Christine had rented a room at a small inn out of the city for a little while, to relax, and that same week Erik had found a small apartment in the city, only two streets away from the Opera Populaire. Christine was a little hesitant to move in with him, since it really wasn't right or proper for a lady to do, but after everything that had happened, she decided to overlook it, only for a short while. They were very close friends, after all.

Almost immediately after moving in, Erik had bought himself a piano to continue composing on and had it moved into the apartment's spare room, which he had now converted into a makeshift study, which was also his bedroom. The apartment only had one main room, spare room, bathroom, and unfortunately, one bedroom. After a sort of awkward discussion (to put it mildly), Erik had decided he'd just sleep in his study to save Christine any further embarrassment over the "proper way to resolve this" and to stop her ridiculous blushing...

Overall, the apartment was wonderful. Not as spacious as his old lair, but cozily comfortable. He wouldn't have really minded living in a shoe box if Christine was there with him. She would be a perfect housewife someday, she was so neat and tidy and pleasant to be around. She was absolutely beautiful no matter what she was doing. She had no idea of this, but on occasion, when he suffered from his usual insomnia, he would sometimes gently open the door to her bedroom and peer at her dreamily. She looked so peaceful and innocent when she was sleeping, a pure vision of heaven. He sometimes wished that he could have the luxury of lying beside her each night, but he knew that was something h could only dream about. He was happy enough last night when he looked in to see that she had kicked off her bed covers and found her shivering from the cold in her thin nightgown. He had tucked her back in, pulling the warm covers up over her body to stop her shivering and for an instant, she had smiled dreamily. That was more than enough to make him happy.

Christine, on the other hand, wasn't so happy as she let on. Of course, she had immediately set about cleaning the apartment, homemaking and every other little thing she could think of to occupy her time, including tidying up Erik's study when he wasn't occupying it to his distaste, but Christine was so upset when she thought he was angry at her for moving his things around, and ever since then, he'd kept silent. Although neither of them let on, they both missed the Opera Populaire terribly and Erik mentally kicked himself about twenty times a time for crashing the beautiful chandelier and setting fire to the place. It had just been an act of momentary panic he spent hours wishing he could reverse, and he was trying to. Unknown to Christine, Erik had quite a fortune stashed away, even with weekly expenses like food, clothing and rent, he still had about four million francs to his name. Almost daily, he was sending money to the Opera Populiare's new manager, Monsieur Georges Beaumont, hoping to speed up the reconstruction and saying the money was simply from "A Musical Angel". He was hoping to God the man wouldn't come looking for him, or trace the money back to him, demanding a name. What would he tell him if he did? That-

" Erik?" Christine called out cheerfully as she let herself in with her key. "Are you here?"

He reluctantly came out of his study, shutting the door behind him. Christine was standing at the table,carrying several bags of groceries from the weekly market and a bolt of cloth. She was dressed in a beautiful sapphire blue gown designed specifically for her figure, and the material gracefully swirled around her like flowing water. Erik almost sighed at the sight of her. Her beauty never ceased to amaze.

"Yes Christine?"

She turned around after setting the cloth down on the table

"Oh, Erik, I just wanted to know if you were still here. I'm sorry if I disturbed you" she said humbly

Even though he was a grown man and a terrifying Opera Ghost, Erik was clueless when it came to how to conduct himself around Christine. Ever since he snapped at her once when she asked him something while he was composing, she'd been walking on eggshells ever since. She thought it was the polite thing to do, seeing as how she was living here on his charity since he mysteriously paid for both their expenses and she shouldn't be rude, since he was normally so kind to her. She thought he seemed a little bit odd lately, as if something was troubling him, but she didn't want to pry. Maybe this behavior was normal for him. He was an artist and a genius, after all, and she didn't really know him that well.

He, on the other hand, desperately wished she wasn't so intimidated by him. He just didn't know how to be familiar or comfortable as he would have liked to be around her. He wasn't used to it, and sometimes just the thought of her touch or her voice when he wasn't prepared for it terrified him. He hadn't really been socially active for about twenty years. But, he desperately wished he could make her happy. He knew she was depressed, because they both couldn't really be seen for now at least. Erik would probably be arrested or worse if people knew his real identity or where he was, and Christine would be the instant subject of the press and all of Paris, with everyone wanting to know about the young starlet's disappearance and why she hadn't come near her notable fiancee, the Vicomte de Changy, since he had yet to make it public she had jilted their engagement. So, she really couldn't leave the apartment more than once a day, and definitely couldn't sing at any Opera House for some time, so there really wasn't much to make her happy. Well, she tried to stay cheerful, for Erik's sake at least. He seemed even more depressed than she did, and she certainly shouldn't be complaining about his hospitality or protection. He was very sweet to her. So, naturally, she'd thrown herself into housekeeping, trying to keep herself busy and her mind occupied. If only-

"Ahem" Erik cleared his throat awkwardly, breaking the silence "No, Christine, you weren't disturbing me at all. I was just finishing up some business I had to attend to"

She smiled "Oh, that's nice."

He looked at the table between them "So, what did you buy?"

She shrugged "Oh, nothing much. Just some food I noticed we were running low on and a bolt of cloth half price at the market."

"What's the cloth for, a new dress?"

"No, silly. A pillow. For you"

"Well, Christine, I-"

"Erik, please. Your bed is a blanket and the floor! Now, you insist that I take the bedroom, and you won't agree to share it and yet, you're sleeping on the floor and it's your apartment! You'll make yourself sick if you don't keep warm. This is very nice material and you can't honestly say a wooden floor is comfortable to sleep on"

He shrugged "Christine, you don't have to do this, I'm fine, really."

She sighed "Erik, I know you've said no before, but please, take the bedroom, I can sleep somewhere else-"

"No, Christine, you're a lady, you need your own space and privacy. I am fine, really, and this is the last time I'm going to argue about it."

"But Erik, I just don't feel right, it's-"

"Mademoiselle, those groceries look very heavy. Allow me to assist you with them" he said, finishing the argument and taking the groceries from her into the kitchen. He started unpacking them and noticed her watching him. He chuckled awkwardly

"Oh, I'm sorry. Would you rather...?"

"No, no, that's all right. Go on, if you want to."

She watched him again for a moment. He was very strong, she'd nearly dropped that bag twice and he was maneuvering it around as if it was weightless. She also noticed how handsome he looked when he wasn't dressed up in his formal suit and simply dressed in trousers and a plain linen shirt. He was almost perfect, and so kind and gentle towards her, such a gentleman. He was so charitable too, letting her stay here with him simply out of kindness. She recalled her words on the night of Don Juan

"I love you" Did she truly feel that way? Well, why would she have said that if she didn't? She knew she loved her angel, as her tutor, but did she love him as a man? Her emotions left her so confused right now. She had never known true love before. Was this was it felt like? Awkward and nervous and embarrassed and wanting, all at once, your emotions constantly engaged in battle with your mind? Your heart ignoring your head? She wanted to love him, but she didn't know whether she really did or not. He hadn't shown many feelings towards her at all. Maybe he didn't love her, and she was just being a foolish and sentimental woman. Maybe he..

She noticed him looking at her oddly. Could he somehow tell what she was feeling?

"I'll ...start working on your pillow" she said hurriedly, grabbing the cloth and awkwardly rushing into her bedroom. Erik released an inward groan. As marvelous a cook and organizer as Christine was, her sewing skills left a lot to be desired. He now realized why most of her dresses were made for her, instead of hand-sewn, for that was just a disaster in itself. He didn't know what oddly shaped lump he was going to have to force his head to lie on to spare her hurt feelings...

He couldn't help it when his thoughts wandered to Christine and her words last week. "I love you." Did she truly mean that? Had she just said it in the heat and confusion of that moment or did she really mean it? Or, did she love him in like, a brotherly way, like family relations? She seemed so nervous around him. Well, he couldn't say he was at ease when she was around either. She was almost a goddess in his eyes, perfect and beautiful and intelligent, with the voice of an angel. He knew he had loved her since he first laid eyes on her, but did she return those feelings? Would he make a fool of himself if he let her know?

Erik snapped out of his thoughts as he felt his body collide harshly with the floor. He cursed quite loudly as he realized he had slipped on some little red and white...things that were covered in plastic and surrounding him. He must have spilled them out of the grocery bag while engaged in his thoughts.

Christine came rushing out as soon as she heard the noise.

"Erik, are you all right?" she asked hurriedly

He nodded, and she could tell he was obviously confused. Imagine her surprise to find the stealthy Phantom of the Opera sprawled out on his back among a flood of individually wrapped candies she had bought at the market. She burst out laughing, clutching over.

He looked at her, failing to find the humor in this until later

"Christine, what the-"

"Peppermints. I..."

She trailed off as he stared at her queerly. She stopped laughing and stared back at him before bending down to begin picking them up.

"Christine, what were-"

"Erik, trust me. Don't ask"