The rest of the lesson passed without event. True to her word, Christine followed Erik's instructions without so much as a murmur, though he noticed irritation flashing in her eyes on more than one occasion. This worried him slightly because, in the weeks he'd been staying with her, he had never seen Christine acting anything but happy, and he was quite curious as to what had caused her uncharacteristic mood.
He stayed in the library for a while after the lesson, pulling one of his unfinished compositions out and making some adjustments to it, before he finally decided to venture out. As he entered the living room, he was met with the sight of Christine curled on her side on the couch, her arms wrapped tightly around her stomach and her face drawn with pain.
"Christine!" he exclaimed, rushing towards her in alarm. "Are you all right?"
She glanced up in surprise and tried to straighten up a little before giving up and slumping back down with a grimace. "Ever been stabbed in the gut?"
"Twice, actually," Erik responded thoughtlessly, letting his hands hover over her in a desire to help, but not daring to actually touch her.
"You know the answer to your question, then," Christine stated wryly, tightening her hold on her stomach.
Erik wondered briefly if she had accepted his words as the truth or simply thought he was making a joke, but decided that it wasn't the best time to comment. "What's wrong? It's nothing serious, is it?"
"Oh, no, I'll be fine," she muttered, though at the moment she looked anything but. "I think I just found the source of my earlier mood-swings and bitchiness, that's all…"
"But your stomach wasn't bothering you earlier," he stated, studying her quizzically.
"And also why I've been ready to kill for a chocolate milkshake all day…" Christine continued to herself, ignoring Erik's comment. She gave a sudden groan and curled into an even smaller ball, causing Erik to grind his teeth in frustration at his helplessness.
"Christine, you have to tell me what's wrong," he ordered, glaring down at her.
"Don't worry about it, Erik. I'm fine."
"Christine…"
Christine shifted over so that her back was facing Erik. "I swear I'm fine. It's nothing I'm not used to."
"Christine, please talk to me! This doesn't look like something you should be—Oh…" he trailed off, comprehension slowly spreading across his features as he pieced several clues together. "Oh!" The portion of his face that was visible suddenly turned an angry red. "Ah. Right. Um, anything I could, err, get you? To help, that is." He shifted awkwardly and brought his hand up to rub at the back of his neck. "Some morphine, perhaps?"
Christine let out a weak laugh, thinking it was rather cute that her fearsome bodyguard was so terrified of the menstrual cycle. "Maybe later. Right now I'd settle for some Midol… I think there's a bottle in the bathroom closet."
"I'll be back in a moment," he murmured gently, rising to his feet in a fluid motion and disappearing into the bathroom. He returned with two small pills and a glass of water and handed them to Christine. She accepted them gratefully and rose up enough to swallow them.
"Is there anything else I can get you?"
Christine smiled gratefully at him and shook her head. "No, I should be good once the pills kick in. Thanks, though."
"My pleasure," Erik murmured sincerely. "Well, if you're sure you'll be okay, I'll be in the library, so just call if you need anything else."
"Wait!" Christine called, reaching out and grabbing a handful of his shirt before he could walk away.
Erik's eyes latched onto the delicate hand fisted in his shirt, liking the way her crimson fingernails contrasted with the black fabric.
"You have to stay and keep me company!" Christine continued, oblivious to the fact that Erik was now picturing those same fingernails running down his naked chest and skirting teasingly around the waist of his trousers before hooking into them and pulling him against her… Stop that! Erik mentally ordered, slamming his eyes shut and sucking in a breath, fiercely fighting against his sudden wave of arousal. When had he turned into such a disgusting lecher?
"C'mon, Erik. Please? We can hang out and watch a movie. It'll be fun!"
"What?" Erik asked, opening his eyes and meeting her gaze guiltily. "Oh, of course. What movie would you like me to put on?"
Christine nibbled her lower lip as she thought, drawing Erik's gaze to her mouth like a magnet. "Oh! How about V for Vendetta? Something tells me you're going to love it…"
Erik gave a distracted nod and turned to search through her movie collection for the selected DVD. Once he had started the movie playing, he settled himself down on the floor, resting his back against the edge of the couch near Christine's head. This was partly out of consideration for her, giving her the entire couch to stretch out on, if she felt so inclined, and partly because of the knowledge that he could pay much closer attention to the movie if Christine wasn't in eyesight.
That was, of course, until she reached out and swept her fingers through the hair falling down in front of one of his eyes. Erik jerked in surprise and twisted his head around so fast he heard something pop, not seeming to notice the fact that his hand had trapped Christine's wrist in a bruising grip.
"Oh," Christine began, yet again feigning ignorance to his violent reaction. "Your hair isn't dyed!"
Oh, sure, because that was how he'd been expecting her to respond. His complete confusion must have shone through in his eyes, because Christine hastened to elaborate.
"Your hair color is so uncommon, especially with your skin being so pale and all, that I always just kind of assumed that you dyed it."
"And you could tell that I don't just by feeling it?" Erik asked suspiciously.
"Well, yeah. Your hair's so damn soft it's obvious you don't do anything to it," Christine explained patiently. "Plus, you don't have the slightest hint of roots. Now be quiet and turn around, the movie's starting."
Erik wordlessly released her hand and obeyed her, bringing his head back around to watch the screen. A few minutes into the movie, he felt Christine once again reach out to stroke his hair, and this time he managed to temper his reaction down to just a slight jump and a tensing of his muscles. He sat completely still, closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling as those same crimson nails he'd been so fascinated by earlier ran through his hair and traced lightly across his scalp.
"Christine…" he began, licking his suddenly dry lips nervously, but was instantly shushed.
"Watch the movie," Christine ordered imperiously, her fingers never slowing in their explorations.
Easier said than done when you're doing that! Erik thought. Surprisingly, though, he soon found that he could actually focus on the film. Despite the fact that the gentle fingers softly massaging his scalp or running through the length of his hair brought his hormonal thoughts from earlier prominently into his mind, he also found the sensation to be strangely soothing, and soon felt himself relaxing back against the couch, even going so far as to rest the back of his head against Christine's knees. However, he was sure that had it been any other movie, he would never have heard a word of it. As it were, though, V for Vendetta held such an aspect of familiarity that he found himself riveted.
The movie ended far too soon in Erik's opinion, and he silently cursed as he felt Christine cease her gentle caresses and sit up. To his surprise, though, instead of standing, she simply repositioned herself and placed both hands against his head, running her fingers through his hair soothingly. Erik wanted to purr with pleasure.
"I do so love that movie…"
Erik gave a small smile, his eyes slipping closed contentedly. "It was quite powerful, though I must admit I've been surprised by your movie choices so far."
"Yeah? How so?"
"Well, you've now made me watch two action films, both of them rather dark and graphic, and something so depraved that I cannot even think to come up with a genre for it." Christine let out a giggle at this description of Rocky Horror. "Correct me if I'm wrong, though, but don't women typically prefer dramas or romantic comedies, or at least films with some kind of attractive male actor as the lead?"
Christine let out a sigh and shook her head. "Those are hardly broad-minded views on women's tastes, you know."
"I'm just going by what everyone says," he responded somewhat defensively, feeling self-conscious over the reminder of how little he truly knew of women. He'd had practically no experience with them in the past apart from the few female clients that had deigned to accept a masked man as their bodyguard. None of them had been anything like Christine, and his previous experiences had been less than flattering towards the opposite sex.
"Oh, good," Christine exclaimed caustically, stilling her hands but not removing them from his hair, "because I just love getting stereo-typed!"
Erik let out a muffled curse. He'd walked right into that one, hadn't he?
"I apologize," he declared sincerely, feeling ashamed for his close-minded statement. "It was wrong of me to assume such a thing based on the general opinions of society and my own limited experience."
"Are you always so formal?" Christine asked, releasing a giggle that let him know he was forgiven and resuming her absent-minded playing with his hair. Apparently it was a rhetorical question, because she didn't give him any time to respond before she continued, "I accept your apology, Erik, though you were at least right about part of it. I do love a good romance movie best, but that doesn't mean I can't be a bit eclectic in my tastes. I was actually picking some of my manlier films out of consideration for you."
Erik winced at the jab at his earlier accidental chauvinism.
"Although I do happen to think that V is totally sexy," Christine added when Erik made no response to her taunt.
Erik turned around to stare at her incredulously, dislodging Christine's hands in the process. "V is a middle-aged, severely scarred burn victim who wears fully-covering clothing and a Guy Fawkes mask throughout the entire movie. Explain to me why you consider that to be 'sexy'?"
"Oh, Erik…" Christine murmured, shaking her head from side to side. "Sexual appeal doesn't always have to be about physical appearance. Sometimes it's all about the persona."
"Persona?"
"V is intelligent, extremely well-spoken, witty, and a total gentleman. He has that kind of intellectual charisma that makes girls fantasize about sleeping with their professors."
Erik bristled and made a mental note to pay close attention to all of Christine's male professors in the future.
"But he also has that dark, dangerous air about him, you know? He's exciting, rebellious, and completely lethal, and every girl has to fall for a bad boy, at least once in her life. So with those combined qualities, how can he not be sexy?" Christine gave him a lop-sided grin. "He reminds me of you, you know. Except your mask is way cooler than his."
The warm feeling that had enveloped Erik at Christine's roundabout way of calling him sexy fled instantly and was replaced by a guarded wariness and apprehension. That was the first time in the entire time he'd been living with her that Christine had said a word to him about his mask.
The grin slowly slid from Christine's face as she noticed Erik's shift in mood, and her breath caught once she realized her faux pas. For a moment, she was tempted to just change the subject and cover it up, but then she decided that she was done with pretending not to notice things and that it was better to just get it all out in the open and be done with it. With that decision strengthening her resolve, she let her gaze lock with his and waited patiently for him to respond.
Erik noticed the sudden determination shining from her eyes and inwardly cursed it. So they were finally going to do this, were they? After giving himself just a few brief moments to freely panic, Erik steeled his nerve and prepared to speak. "Why haven't you ever asked me about it?" he inquired quietly, dropping his gaze to stare at his slightly trembling hands. "It's usually the first thing people want to know when they meet me."
"I figured that if you wanted me to know, you'd tell me," Christine responded just as softly. "It's not my place to go prying into your personal life, and just because that aspect happens to be more noticeable than any others, it doesn't change that fact. I'm assuming you've got a good reason for wearing it."
Erik gave a sharp jerk of his chin that passed for a nod. Good wasn't really a word he would use to describe it, but it was a reason nonetheless.
A tense silence passed between them, and then Christine tentatively opened her mouth to speak. "Were you burned or injured or something?"
"No. I was born this way." Erik's voice, usually warm and sensual, came out cold and harsh, his words clipped short as if they hurt him to speak.
"Oh…" Christine glanced down awkwardly. "How did your parents-"
"You know the expression, 'a face only a mother could love'?" Erik interrupted bitterly. Christine gave a slight nod. "Well, I should have been so lucky."
A horrified gasp managed to escape Christine despite her best efforts to stifle it. "And there wasn't anything the doctors could-"
Erik once again cut her off before she could finish her query. "My body rejected the skin grafts, and any attempts at fixing it surgically just seemed to make things worse," he stated, his voice suddenly dead as he pictured the angry scars that now marred his already hideous face. "Maybe if I'd been younger when they made their attempts, but my mother could never have afforded it even if she'd wanted to, and by the time I was old enough to pay for the operations myself…" he trailed off and pressed a hand to his mask unconsciously, shuddering at some remembered pain. "Eventually I just stopped trying."
"Oh, Erik…" Christine reached her hands out towards his face. Erik tensed and pulled away, but relaxed as all she did was bury her hands in his hair once again and move his head so that he was staring into her eyes. He searched the brilliant blue orbs carefully for any signs of pity, suspicion, or disgust, as were the usual reactions to any mention of his face, but all he saw was compassion and sorrow, and maybe something else that he couldn't quite identify, but that had his heart racing nonetheless as he gazed upon it.
Suddenly, before Erik even realized what she was doing, he felt her hands slip out of his hair and down to his shoulders. Her arms circled his neck and she slid from the couch, pulling him closer, so that her body was pressed against his and her face was buried in the crook of his neck.
Erik lost the ability to speak.
For the longest time, he did nothing. He simply knelt on the ground and stared at the golden-blonde hair falling over his chest as he tried to comprehend what was happening. Then, finally, he felt his arms lift and wrap around Christine's waist, pulling her against him as tightly as he could without bruising her ribs.
His mind whirled in astonishment as an almost unbearable mass of emotions welled up inside him at the simple gesture which most people took for granted all their lives… She had just given him his first hug…