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Chapter 11: This Undying Love

May 1882

After dinner with Flavio, Erik and Christine made their way down streets lined with closed shops. The narrow streets were illuminated by the foggy light of gas lamps.

Christine was suddenly enveloped in a tight hug by Erik's arms, wiry but strong. "I'm so proud of you." Her arms snaked around his waist, returning the unexpected embrace. "I'm so proud of you," Erik's velvety voice murmured in her ear. "You were so strong towards Flavio."

She chuckled, tilting her head back so that their noses brushed. "I learned from the best."

He echoed her laugh with one of his own. "Yes, you did." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. She smelled his musky scent as he exhaled. She stood on tiptoe, presenting him with a brief, fleeting kiss. He groaned as she pulled away too soon. "Control yourself, Erik," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

Chuckling, he laced his fingers with hers and continued down the path. "By the way, when you snapped at me…" She looked up him with dread. He smiled, slightly amused at her pout. "I was just going to tell you that Flavio never watches his mouth. The great fool bursts out the first thing that comes to mind. He hardly means what he says."

"Oh…" She bit her lip sheepishly. "It's just that you're so protective of me, I can't help it that I'm protective of you, too. Back at the opera house, when they were talking about you, saying that you're a demon, evil incarnate, a madman… I wanted nothing more than to disappear, to have nothing to do with them whatsoever." She said with undiluted regret and pent up frustration. Erik was silent, but his eyes communicated his admiration and gratitude.

As soon as she stepped into their hotel room, Christine flopped unceremoniously onto the double bed. "My feet hurt so much," she complained as she kicked off her shoes. Bringing her feet up to the bed, she rubbed her increasingly sore ankles.

"Sit back against the headboard." Erik instructed, and she obliged, stretching her legs out. He took an ankle in each hand and began to massage them deftly with his skillful fingers. She groaned in pleasure as the stiff muscles loosened up.

"Do you think we'll be having a son or a daughter?" Erik approached the subject timidly.

Christine's answer was immediate: "A son."

"How are you so certain?" Erik retorted lightly.

"Woman's instinct, perhaps?" She chuckled. "I don't know. Perhaps…" A pink blush crept involuntarily onto her cheeks. "I should like to name a boy Gustave, after my father. Gustave Erik Destler." She said shyly, feeling foolish to voice her thoughts so. She sighed as Erik deftly eased the pressure in her swelling feet. "You are a godsend, Erik. Who knew it was this much work to carry a child?" He was silent, his forehead creased forebodingly.

"Erik?" She inquired warily. He lifted his eyes, looking expectantly at her. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," He sighed. His golden eyes were filled with self-reproach. "That my baby is causing you this pain."

"Its not your fault." Christine rolled her eyes at his typical guilt over something out of his control. "My mother had a difficult pregnancy with me. We have the same build; she was too small and slight to carry a child properly." As soon as she said the words she regretted them. Comparing herself to her mother, who died in childbirth, would do nothing to ease Erik's guilt or worry.

The massaging ceased. He was suddenly on the bed with her. "You're not her, Christine." He mumbled into the sea of her curls. "You're stronger than she was. You will survive childbirth." He was trying to reassure himself as much as her. His arms were desperate, as though he could physically hold her to this life. She eagerly accepted his possessive arms.

She was not blind or ignorant to the truth, to that dreadful possibility. She simply didn't want to face the fact that, like her mother before her, the birth of her child may be synonymous with her own death. She wrapped her willowy arms loosely around Erik's lean torso, taking comfort from his touch, his presence. "That won't happen to me," She vowed, trying to sound convincing.

"You can't promise that," He whispered. "You don't know what's going to happen." He pressed his lips to her forehead.

Christine savored the feeling of his lingering kiss on her skin. After a few moments of silence, she asked: "Am I your best friend, just as you are mine?"

"Of course, my angel." Erik's reply was sincere, though tinged with confusion.

"Then can you promise me the honesty that comes with friendship?"

Erik took a deep breath, mentally weighing the consequences of this decision. Christine pressed on. "You don't have to lie to me to protect me. I'm strong enough – old enough – to know the truth."

Another deep breath. "I will never lie to you again." It was a promise.

"Then can you tell me, truthfully, whether you want this child or not?" Christine's grey eyes, enchanting and imploring, stared into his from her open, vulnerable, painfully young face.

"Yes, Christine." Erik answered truthfully. "I want a child that we have created out of love. But I'm also terrified." He admitted in a fearful whisper. "I'm afraid of losing you. It won't be fair if you weren't here to witness our child's life. Childbirth has always been a serious risk in the health and longevity of women. What would I do – what would I do if you died…?"

He had never been so open to her, not when dealing with his fears and his weaknesses. His honesty warmed her to the heart. Touched by his heartfelt response, she felt unexpected tears prick her eyes

"What's wrong?" He looked at her, golden eyes filled with worry. She turned, curling into his embrace, tightening her hold on him. "What have I done to make you so sad?" He murmured in self-reproach, stroking her curls helplessly.

"I'm not sad," She protested weakly. "I'm happy." She clarified with a watery smile.

"The thought of your death, and the suffering that it would cause me – that amuses you?" Erik asked incredulously, only half joking. He waited in a confused silence for her to elaborate. When it was clear that she wouldn't, he just held her, waiting for her tears to subside, rocking her gently.

"I'm sorry," She sniffed, a few tears still escaping from her. "I just – I can't control it…"

"It's your hormones." He murmured. "For the baby." He rubbed her back, an unconscious movement. It was soothing, and she relaxed into his embrace.

"I'm sorry," She whispered again. Teardrops clung to her lashes like dew on a misty morning.

"And I repeat, not your fault," He wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, letting his fingers linger on her face.

"Thank you for being here." She whispered with a rueful smile. "For putting up with how temperamental I've been lately."

"It's because I love you." His gaze was incredibly tender as he looked down at the woman in his arms. She felt she could melt in those warm topaz eyes.

Her smile turned warm as she returned that loving look. "I know." She answered softly. "Thank you for being in love with me, and all that it entails." Her forehead crinkled. "What Flavio said about Gianna, and about love…"

Erik sighed for his friend's renouncement of love. "He really did love Gianna. He was only a boy, he naively gave his whole heart with no restraint. His family was against their marriage. He literally gave everything to that woman, but in the end she had lied to him, manipulated his emotions."

"I understand, and sympathize. But how can you give up on love?" Christine met Erik's eyes with a troubled gaze. She was a romantic at heart; she believed in happy endings. It was frightening and unnerving to have someone completely deride her ideals and beliefs.

Erik shook his head. "You haven't been there; you wouldn't understand."

"Try to explain." She pressed.

"When you've been hurt by love, you instinctively want to protect yourself from further harm. The only way to stop yourself from falling again is to completely reject love." Erik's words were met with a silence. He looked down at Christine to see a distressed expression on her face. "Was is it?" He asked softly.

"Was this how you felt?" She asked guiltily. "When I left."

He was taken aback for a moment. "Yes." He answered slowly. "But also no." He added. "When I first fell in love with you, I knew that you would be my only. When you left…" A chill ran down his spine involuntarily at the memory of that dark period. The only light in his life had disappeared, and he was thrown back to the darkness in which he came from. But like the prisoners in Plato's cave, once he had glimpsed the light, it was impossible to be content with darkness. He had been blinded – whether by the light or by darkness, he did not know.

Feeling the fearful shiver that possessed him for a moment, Christine pressed closer to him, wrapping her arms securely around him.

"I tried to forget about you," Erik continued. "I tried to stop loving you. But I couldn't. When Gianna left, Flavio hated her." Erik gave a dark chuckle. "Hating you, and renouncing love, would have been so much easier, so much less painful. But no; I loved you. So I hated that I loved, that I would put myself in such a vulnerable position, allow another person to have such a powerful hold over me. I knew that I would never love again. But all that while, I kept on loving you. Every beat of my heart was for you."

"Love is a smoke made with the fumes of sighs," Christine quoted in a whisper. "A madness most discreet, a choking gall, and a preserving sweet." She closed her eyes and kissed the hollow at the base of Erik's throat. She heard his soft sigh of contentment, felt his throat relax at the touch of her lips.

"I'm sorry for hurting you." She promised to herself that as long as she lived, she would never hurt him again.

A/N: I hoped you liked that fluff, cause I did. Which is why the next chapter will be the wedding chapter (YAY! :D)

I'm one review away from 100! I'm going to give my 100th reviewer will get a preview of the next chapter. I'll also give a preview to the two runner-ups. So, the first THREE people to leave a review on THIS chapter will get the preview of THE WEDDING. Guest reviewers who want to get the preview, please leave an email address/other way to message you, or I won't be able to send the preview to you.