Her first night alone was terrible.

Erik had gifted her a pocket watch as he walked her to her room for her first night alone and she had found the damned thing to be more of a curse than a blessing. Ten o'one, ten fifteen, ten eighteen. The minutes dragged by and having the contraption to confirm the slow passage of time only made it all the harder to rest.

She found herself tossing and turning in a bed that was far too large and empty, and by eleven thirty she had considered snuffing out the candle that burned by her bed at least twelve times. The shadows it casted were eerie in the unfamiliar room, but even so each time she had come to the conclusion that being alone in the dark would be worse.

She took a small comfort from the fact that, true to his word, Erik had managed to bribe his way into the room directly across the hall.

By midnight she was seriously considering taking the four or five steps across the hall to knock on his door.

But that would only make him angry, and that was the last thing she wanted at the moment. He had made her promise him that if he payed the extra fee to be so close she would remain in her own room until he came for her "at precisely seven o'clock." And for the comfort of having him so close at all hours she had agreed to his terms.

How she regretted that now.

By one o'clock she had convinced herself that she was being utterly ridiculous.

By two o'clock she had given up on even the pretense of sleep, taking to humming the lullaby that Erik had sang to her as a little girl, before he had even approached her as an angel.

At precisely two seventeen she heard a strange rustle in the hallway. She knew the time because she had spent the last quarter of an hour staring at the pocket watch and praying to God that it would tick faster.

When the rustle turned to a scraping sound and her door rattled she dropped the pocket watch and sank under the covers, pulling them up to her nose and staring at the door as though it would attack her.

When the lock clicked she began to hold her breath.

And it was all released in one cry of "Erik!" As she launched herself from the bed and into the arms of the dark masked figure that lurked in the doorway.

He caught her with an "oof," his arms wrapping around her. "Shush," he said quietly, stroking her hair as he held her tightly against him. "I'm not here," he murmured. And then, as if it had only just registered; "Why are you still awake?"

"Why are you here?" She countered, the words muffled against his chest.

He let out a quiet huff of laughter. "I'm not," he insisted. "But if you must know, I couldn't sleep either."

"How did you get in here?" She mumbled.

"I didn't, because I'm not here," he reminded her. "In fact, I don't believe I will ever see the inside of this room in my life."

"You're ridiculous."

"I'm ridiculous?" He asked incredulously. "I will remember that next time I fly fifteen feet through the air at you my dear."

She would have argued with him but she was suddenly exhausted. He was warm against her and his hand in her hair along with the rumble of his chest against her ear was soothing. And if that meant that she was the ridiculous one then she would allow it so long as he continued to hold her.

"You should be asleep," he said as he slowly began to move, not pushing her away but slowly steering her toward the bed.

"And you shouldn't be here - you're breaking your own rules."

"They're my rules," he said softly. "I'm allowed to break them - and besides, I thought we had already established that I'm not here."

She sighed against his chest as he slowly walked her backwards. "Will you lay with me? Just for a bit?" She knew her question was silly and childish, but she couldn't ignore the desire, no, the need to have him close.

"I can't stay for long, Christine," he reminded her quietly. "But I suppose it wouldn't hurt, just for a little while."

He coaxed her into the bed and was pulling the blankets over her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before he finally made her decision for her and snuffed out the candle at her bedside.

She heard a shuffling in the darkness as he removed his shoes and then the bed was sinking beneath his weight as he laid beside her, pulling her close to him with a sigh that sounded a lot like relief.

"You need to take that pocket watch with you," she grumbled, relaxing against him. There was no urgency, there was no lust. All she felt was a simple contentment as she laid against his far-too-boney side.

"And why is that?" He murmured.

"The damned thing is broken and keeping me awake," she answered matter-of-factly.

"First of all, I assure you it is in perfect working condition or I never would have given it to you," he said, amusement tinging his voice. "Second of all, that is no language for a lady."

She gave a half-hearted "humph" against him that morphed into a yawn.

"You need to sleep Christine," he murmured.

She sighed and nuzzled against him. "And what if I don't wake up before seven?"

His lips pressed gently against her forehead. "It's no matter," he said. "I will be in the lounge when you wake."

Silence passed for two beats before he broke it. "I want you to go shopping tomorrow," he said.

"Will you come with me?" Her words were tired and strained.

"To choose your wedding dress? That, Mademoiselle, would be a scandal. No, I think that you should shop and I shall meet with a few priests. We passed at least four churches on our way here and I should think I'll be able to manage finding at least one that will be willing to marry us."

"Mm," she agreed. "I love you, Erik."

"I love you too Christine," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

It was three thirty when he finally slipped from the bed. Christine sighed and shifted in the bed, but she remained asleep. And satisfied with that he slipped his shoes on and quietly escaped her room, using his lock pick to firmly lock the door behind him.

By three thirty-five he was back in his own bed, slipping off into his own restless sleep.