Chapter 21-Curiousity Killed the Love Birds

"Erik, I love you so much." Christine wrapped her arm around Erik's bare chest, gently bringing the bedspread up over her naked breasts.

"I love you too." She felt his heart speed up through his chest. A smile formed on her lips and she buried her face deep within his arm. "Christine?" His voice was deep, masculine, and held her within a trance. "Yes, my love?" She said sweetly. Erik sat up, leant his back against the dark, wooden backboard of the bed. He brought Christine up with him and buried his hand within her curls, not wishing for it to be found. He smelt her perfume, smelling of sweet, spring lilacs. "Face me." He said turning her face to his. Now, her heart was beating like an uncontrollable engine. "Marry me." He commanded. She froze, and her legs and arms became dead limbs. Her mind traveled outside her body, and it felt she was watching this on a movie, or reading it in a book.

Quickly she uncovered her body and stood. She gathered her clothes, and put them on. She looked back, tears blurring her vision. Erik sat with his face placed deep within his hands, weeping. Christine shuffled over to him and placed her hand on his back. He looked up, wetness streaming down his face, stopping at the edges of his mask, and he fell to his knees on the floor.

"You must marry me, Christine." He whispered. Christine tilted her head, and fell to her knees as well. "You must love me." He spat vigorously. "You must!" He repeated.

Christine slid her eyes open, pain shot through her head, causing her to close them once more. She had gotten used to the dreams and rose with no trouble. She glanced at the clock. It was late to be rising and she got dressed, and began walking downstairs. She glanced out the large window in her living room, and saw his house. With its red brick, and red roses peeking through the sight of his windows. She was drawn by an uncontrollable force to the window, then out her front door, and to the street.

While her heart seemed dead and lifeless, it seemed to be beating out of her chest. Maybe she no longer had a heart. Could that be so? Could she have been robbed of it? Could Erik have invaded that too while he invaded her mind?

Suddenly, without realizing it, she appeared at Erik's front door, hand falling from its knocking. She thought about leaving, turning around and casually walking away. But something kept her there. Something glued her to the spot which she was. The door opened and revealed Erik, with perfectly slicked back hair and boxer shorts, as usual. This time, something was different, out of the ordinary. He was bleeding from his knuckles. And the blood dripped slowly to the floor and Christine watched it. She watched it drip, drip, drip. All she could hear was the drip. All she could she was him, standing with fury in his deep, green eyes.

"What do you want?" He spat, anger flooding his every movement. Christine's throat was shot, unable to produce any sound. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She tried again, and failed. She dropped her head.

"Well?" He urged on, searching for a way to hurt her. Christine raised her head, she couldn't stand him. Couldn't stand the way he looked at her, with such compassion and love. Even when anger boiled in his heart, she saw that love within him. She couldn't stand the way he stood, so determined and strong. She hated him, despised him, yet couldn't live without him. Couldn't live without his love.

"You." She whispered. A sudden shock came over Erik's body, which showed on his face. He parted his lips, still attempting to be angry with her. "Excuse me?" He said, straightening his form.

"Erik, I want you. I love you. I can't live without you." She edged closer to him, staring into his eyes. Erik stood frozen, unbelieving of what she just said. "Am I dreaming?" He thought. She saw his discomfort and continued on,

"Being without you, I have realized my fault. My life is empty, Erik. My voice is lifeless and without emotion because you are my emotion. You are the life I want." Still edging closer to him, they were now inside his home, and Erik's back slammed against a wall. Christine raised her hand to caress his face. She lined his mask with her fingers. "And you are the life I choose." She said, pressing her lips against his.

All anger flooded from his body. All regret released. He pushed back, finally able to release the words he wished he always could. Christine's hand dug into the back of his head, pushing them closer. Their bodies pressed together and Christine released him, drawing back. She finally realized what she wanted, what she deserved. She didn't need the perfect life, with the perfect husband. No, she did need the perfect husband. And Erik was that perfect husband. He was the perfect life. He just wore a mask, that was all. The mask. She thought. She had wondered day after day why he wore it.

Now is when she would find out. She knew it was the wrong time. They were deep within their confession of love, pressing harder against each other with every passing moment. It was the wrong time. Despite this, her curiosity grew, began to consume her. It ran through her veins, pumped through her heart. She was distracted, and before she could reason, she was reaching toward the mask. It fell to the floor, as did she.

All she saw was Erik, with a face of a monster. No, it wasn't him. It could not have been him. He was not a monster. He was not what was under that mask. "Damn you!" He screamed, grabbing at his face. A plastered look of fear spread across Christine. Erik fell to his knees, turned away from her, refusing to let her look at him. His heart ached with an unexplainable pain, but he ignored it, for he did not want her to see him like this. She looked down at the mask in her lap, and brushed her finger across it. "A monster is not what I am." She whispered to herself. She reached out towards Erik, handing him the mask. He took it and replaced it on his face. "Leave." He said with sadness consuming his voice. "Leave!" he repeated.

Christine turned towards the door, and ran to her house. That face, the face which flashed through her mind, was a monster. It couldn't be him, it just couldn't. Tears flooded her eyes, blurring her vision and causing her to fall to her knees in her front lawn. She placed her tear-streamed face within her palms and cried. "A monster you are not." She whispered.