A/N: Wow, we're up to the twenty-fifth chapter . . . and over seventy reviews! I appreciate the feedback!
gravity01: Heh, Kay has no real place in my fics, dear; I've been trying to avoid her influence in this. Your mention of Erik's mother, however, reminded me of something I planned to put in at some point anyway. And, yes, I agree about Christine!
PhantomFan01: The plot thickens, indeed!
It had been quite a long day, and Erik escorted Christine back to the flat for supper with Maman Valerius. Perhaps he rushed her a bit too much, for she gave him more than one irritated look on the way there. He explained his distracted air and lack of appetite that evening as merely being tired after too much work in one day. As rehearsal had been so extensive and gruelling, Christine was happy to call it an early night, as well.
But she secured a promise from Erik that they would all go out for a nice supper soon to celebrate . . . Oh, just to celebrate life and love. And Erik could not say no when she gazed up at him with that sleepy grin of hers.
Once he was back in the house on the lake, he fished a key out of its hiding place in a drawer no one would notice. He trudged over to the far wall and moved the tapestry. He had to steel his nerves before unlocking the door hidden there and entering the small room.
It was more of a closet, really, but it was big enough for the few things he kept there. There were a few trinkets from his time with the Tonkin pirates, jewels he'd smuggled out of Persia and Constantinople, and some of his old masks that were too nicely made to part with them.
What he was there to see, though, were the portraits he'd painted, some completely from memory. There was one of a scene from one of the fairs he'd travelled with, and another of a forest that happened to capture his eye. His breath caught in his throat when he found the one he needed to see, the one for which his model had happily sat for one early autumn evening.
'Yes, that girl that was with Christine earlier looks very much like Anahita did. They could almost be sisters. I suppose time has blurred my memory a bit.'
He chuckled at his own foolishness, then tucked the portrait away again. He couldn't help but retrieve another, done from an old memory. The subjects never would have consented to sit for this. Still, he had enjoyed creating it.
He wondered if Christine might like to have her portrait done by him. He had made a few sketches over the past couple of months, of course, but they were simply a way to gaze upon her face when he wasn't conducting a lesson.
Erik still wondered about the girl in Christine's dressing room, though, and if it wasn't all just some bizarre twist of fate that she looked as she did.
A/N: Ugh, short, I know. But this scene was floating around in my head, begging to be put in soon. The next chapter will be longer to make up for it, but that also means it will take longer to be completed and posted. Peace and love.