Chapter XII
Christine was swathed all in white; a film of gossamer silk that ran over her skin as effortlessly as the water around her that ebbed and flowed with each gentle push of her toes. The white gown was a gift from her Erik. She wasn't certain if it was meant for sleeping or bathing, but at her timorous query as to its purpose he merely chuckled and said she should do with it as she pleased.
And so she did. As the material caressed her arms and legs, she ceased to care whether it was a nightgown, a day dress, or elegant underthings, making use of it when upon his insistence she used Erik's private chambers for a bath. And when the standing tub was filled with a generous amount of steaming water, she no longer worried whether the man drawing it was angel, doctor, or monster. What monster took such pains to ensure every detail was to her liking, down to the scented oils he offered to supply if he did not have one on hand? And evidenced by the selection he did have on hand, her man of mystery had a weakness for a prolonged soak. She smiled to think of his thin, lengthy legs stretched out in the porcelain fixture, and suddenly wondered if he would fit without bending his knees some.
Christine pushed her toes with a bit more force, and let herself slip further into the warmth, her ears filling with rose-scented water as his voice sometimes did. The world was shut out. It was only the water, swishing and slowly stilling as she did.
She was not to be disturbed. He was most clear on that score. The nurses were told she was being held in one of the rooms for solitary observation and was not to be looked in on except by him. No one dared to come into his private quarters. He maintained them on his own, including the menial tasks such as dusting and polishing. Christine thought no maid could do better, marvelling at the immaculate study and bathroom. She had not been in his bed chamber, but there was no question that he kept it as tidy as the rest.
How long had it been since she was able to ignore time, and feel so at peace? Never had she been left to enjoy a hot bath with no limitations on how long she might stay. Even in the luxury of the de Chagney's, she had to abide by the mistress of the house, who insisted no more than a quarter of an hour be wasted in frivolous bathing; frivolous, it seemed, only in Christine's case, as Raoul's mother was quite fond of long baths herself. Christine hummed a few bars to be rid of the thoughts that threatened to disrupt her pleasant musings.
As her humming subsided, the voice began, picking up where she'd left off. She continued pleasantly; not so much a tune as a soft sound of contentment, once more sinking into the lapping waves.
She did not recall waking from her bath nor dressing herself for the occasion, but regardless of how she came to be there, Christine stood before an altar; still garbed in white, but in silk of a different nature. This silk pooled around her slippered feet, and dipped luxuriously at the neck and back, ornamenting her décolleté with elaborate flowers. She held a bouquet of white blossoms that smelled faintly of citrus. There was a priest before her, and the figure of a man beside her. Someone was singing, but she couldn't tell if it was the priest, or her angel.
When the ceremony was ended, the dark figure tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, and led her away; down the aisle, and to a pair of giant, arching doors that creaked and strained to open on their own.
The doors won against the invisible resistance, and a blast of freezing air assaulted Christine, the delicate gown being of no use against the insistent chill. She threw her arms up in desperation to defend herself, and waited for the end.
Suddenly, she was no longer in the chapel, but shivering violently in the arms of her Erik. Something wet dripped down her head and onto his arm, soaking his crisp, white sleeve.
"What must I do to keep you?" he said with a broken voice. Christine thought he must have been weeping. "Must you always try to leave me?"
Shivering and confused, Christine glanced about in an effort to orientate herself. The bathroom door was still bolted, but splintered at the hinges, and pushed out for a man to climb through. "Did you do that?" she wondered.
"I called and called and you did not answer. Of course I did. But why Christine? Can you not trust me to make you happy yet?"
"I was sleeping. I did not... I was not purposefully drowning."
"Truly?" he seemed surprised. "You fell asleep?"
"Yes. I..." it was then with a crimson blush, Christine realised the filmy silk did nothing to obscure her anatomy from Erik. If anything, it was enhanced by the clinging material. She coughed a little, and pulled the towel tighter around her. "Thank you for saving me," she murmured.
"I will always save you. Whether you want me to or not. I told you I was selfish," he sniffed, and the informality made Christine giggle.
A smile tugged at the corners of his own mouth to see her so comfortable. He was not so comfortable with a half-soaked shirt and a semi-naked Christine in his arms. However, he was experienced in controlling his more brutish desires around Christine, and he would behave no differently now. As difficult as that might prove.
That night, Christine lay in bed, in a dry nightdress, and on the verge of a blissful slumber. As she drifted, a shocking thought entered her mind. She had not at all felt frightened when Erik held her in so indecent a manner. Rather, there was a nervousness that she be pleasing. Why she should be pleasing to Erik, she could not fathom. It shouldn't matter to her whether her body was slender enough, or her skin pale enough to make him think her beautiful. She was a lonely, desperate girl with no friends, fortune, or graces. How had Raoul ever wanted her? She couldn't say.
The new emotions and tingling sensation at the less than demure thoughts towards Erik were embarrassing, and though her bath had made her skin enjoy the cool air of her chamber, she pulled the covers a little higher over her chin, as if her angel could see her, and know what she was thinking.
For the first time since she could recall, she did not ask the voice to sing her to sleep.
Author's Notes: I offer no excuses. Mostly because I'm too physically and mentally exhausted from my shift at the drive-thru today. Sounds glamorous, doesn't it? :P Well, I am hoping the next installment doesn't take me quite so long, but seeing my upcoming schedule... please continue to be patient with me. I really do appreciate your reads/reviews. :)
