Christine was walking towards Ile-Saint-Louis to try the world famous Berthillon ice cream despite the cold weather and the dark clouds threatening to rain down at her any minute. The people of Paris, however, seemed unfased by the soft droplets of water that had started falling and the hussle of the city remained at its usual tempo.
After she's had her ice cream, she remembered she had to ran to a departement sotre near the opera and grab some presents for Mama Valerius and her actual daughter, who had come to vist her old mother at the same time as Christine. According to Valerius, Marie had just a had a baby, so Christine wanted to buy someting for the newborn and her mother.
Sadly, her plans had to be instantly changed, for the droplets of water instantly turned into waterfalls, the rain falling on her all at once so hard, for a moment she thought someone had emptied a bucket above her head. A rushed search through her small bag came up with no umbrella, which meant she would have to find shelter somewhere until the rain stopped.
But she was still next to the Notre-Dame and all shops where small room-like spaces full of souvenirs, where she could not stay for longer than five minutes, given that the endless tourists in the area crammed into them, as if the rain burned them.
As her eyes scanned around her, a realisation hit her; the endless lines outside the cathedral had vanished due to the rain, only a security guard standing bored under the arched entry.
Shyly, she approached him and asked if she needed to have a ticket to enter and when his answer was negative, she gleefully gave him her bag for a routine security check. In less than a minute she was inside the church, a legendary building already on her bucket list, whose visit she dreaded because of the crowds. In truth, she had never felt such peace before; a serene silence reigned all around her, as a quiet psalm coming from seemingly nowhere echoed on the grey marble of the walls. Christian relics of immesurable importance were behind glass, only for her to see, and she snapped some photos before quickly getting bored of the usual tourist attitude and tucking her phone back in her bag. Who knew if she would ever have the chance to see the world's most famous cathedral silent and mystical, like it was now? She decided she might as well enjoy the experince.
Some faithful prayed at the rows across the main aisle and even fewer inside the chapels around it, each devoted to a different saint. The statues, even the Crown of Crist himself were there and she could not fanthom how they had travelled through time from across the world. Being a devoted christian herself, the mere idea of being so close to something so holy made her shudder in awe and she spent a good ten minutes marvelling at the sight. After a long time of wandering around, however, she became tired and sneekily sat on an old marble bench carved into the wall, concealed from view.
A man was sitting on the edge of it, too, seemingly sketching the building, with his back to her, unaware of her presence. She could not see his work, but by the way his hand moved against the paper, she thought he must be skilled, judging by the elegance and swiftness of his movements.
Curious but too shy to ask, Christine tried to peak from behind his back, when the artist turned around, possibly to face his silly stalker. Embarrassed beyond belief, her face turned scarlet and she started whispering apologies with her eyes on the floor.
"I am so so sorry, Monsieur, I didn't mean to-"she started, hoping he would not be annoyed or rude at her.
"Christine?" A familiar voice whispered her name. There was but one person to whom this delicious voice could belong. Slowly lifting her eyes up, she came face to face with a pair of golden orbs.
"Erik? What are you doing here?" The sketch was now clear, an exact replica of the intricate marble work that connected the wall to the ceiling. "How can you even see that high?"
"It's...a custom built for a client. He is apparently obsessed with gothic cathedrals and wants his house to resemble them. I don't know," he started packing his things into a slick shoulderbag and stood.
He took a few steps towards the entrance, before mumbling something to himself and turning to face her. "Will you have lunch with me?" he whispered, as if too scared to hear the answer.
Surprised at his sudden proposition, she furrowed her brows, trying to get her mind to work again.
"You don't have to say yes," he said apologetically.
She stretched her arm to catch him, afraid he would leave with the wrong impression. "No! No...Of course."
He stared at her perplexed, twisting his gloves in his hands. "Is that a no or a yes?"
"A definitive yes," she smiled softly at his innocence.
He nodded, exhaling hard, and offered her his hand, which she gladly accepted.
"I don't think I've ever eaten more in my life!" Christine grimaced as they walked amongst the cowds of Rue Scribe. "You should have let me pay. I feel guilty now, since you ate almost nothing."
His stride was long smooth and fast, and she had trouble keeping up with him, even though she knew he wasn't really rushing.
"Nonsense," he took her hand to pull her from the street, where a bus was coming towards her. "I never let a lady pay."
"That's unfair,"she protested, loudly enough to be heard over the noise.
"That's good manners," he replied casually. "I'm happy you enjoyed it."
Lazily taking in the bustling street and surveying the boutiques along it, she remembered why she had gotten out in the first place that morning. "Oh, Erik?" He turned to look at her. "Do you mind if we get in, I have to buy a gift."
"Go ahead, I'll wait for you right here."
Thing is, she didn't really want to leave him out there in the cold, trying to avoid the passers by. And, she enjoyed his company. "Want to come in with me? I promise it will only take a second."
Confused as to why she insisted so much on his presence, he wordlessly followed her inside the massive store, finding himself amidst a sea of kitchen appliances. With his hands in his pockets, he walked beside Christine, as she led him to the elevator.
"What do you need to buy?" He checked his phone for any client calls.
She started to answer, when her face turned scarlet from the neck up. "Oh...um...Madame Valerius has a daughter who just gave birth. I was thinking it would be...be proper to get something for the baby."
"Naturally," was all he said and she was relieved at his indifference.
To his utter surprise, the instant the door of the elevator opened, Christine was overjoyed at the side of baby clothes. Or baby-anything, for that matter. Why would anyone buy knee pads for a baby?
"Aw...look at this..."he heard Christine swoon behind his back, and turned to see her holding a pink onesie with 'Totes Adorbs' printed on it. "How cute is this?"
"Teaching children ridiculous catchphrases from the crib," he muttered, earning a smack on the arm.
"Don't be an old man, Erik! Oh, and look...a unicorn bathrobe! " She held it up for him. "Is this nice for a four month old girl?"
"Yes, why not," he answered, not really grasping the point of all this. If a child was sufficiently clothed and fed, why was all this...glitter necessairy? "What is it women have with infants anyway?"
"Mother instinct, my darling," she walked through the aisles and inspected several items with care, as he followed behind. "You men don't get it."
"No, I guess we don't,"he ran a hand throught some hanging crib toys that played music when moved. His eyes darted back to Christine, who as now holding a white blanket in her arms, pretending to lul a real child. "Do you want children, Christine?"
She looked at him and blushed again. What was it with her blushing all the time?
"Yes...I think," she said looking at the floor, realising how awkward it was to have this conversation with a six-foot-something masked man draped in black, in the middle of milk bottles and playful onesies. "Someday, perhaps. I don't know," she shrugged.
He opened his mouth slightly to demand an explaination for her sudden sadness, when he was interrupted by a high-pitched female voice with a southern accent.
"Bonjour Monsieur, Madame!" a tiny brunette greeted them, seemingly unaware of Erik's death stare. "How can I help you?"
Cristine took a step forward, slipping between the saleswoman and her companion, who did not like being interrupted. "We're looking for some clothes. Onesies, perhaps."
The woman clapped her hands in excitement, sending a smile towards Erik, who rolled his amber eyes in exasperation. "Great! Boy, girl, age?"
"Yes, um...a four month-old girl."
"Aw, congratulations! A child brings so much happiness! Come along, this way please." She led them to another side of the floor, abundant with clothes.
"She thinks it's my child,"Christine whispered to Erik as they walked, laughing silently in her hand.
"I noticed." He checked his phone, before turning back to her."Won't you explain?"
"Why? It's fun! And she's so cute, I don't want to disapoint her." She turned her attention to the woman, who was explaining which fabric was best.
Erik had a weird feeling about that saleswoman. She spoke to Christine, yet always looked at him, as if she was ignoring the girl on her right, who was trying to understand which one was better. He was used to stares, but hers wasn't one of fear or disgust. And it confused him to no end.
"And you're so young! Must be hard starting a career, too," she put out another shirt for Christine to see.
"I am a singer, actually," Christine tried to explain. "I've just finished with my college degree."
The woman- Catherine Chanton on her badge- frowned. "A singer? In this economy? Sounds risky to me!"
Christine rubbed her neck, not knowing how to respond. She looked at Erik for some sort of support, but found him oblivious to the insult. Little did she know he was one word away from snapping that woman's neck.
"And what do you do, sir?" Erik raised a cocky eyebrow. "If you don't mind me asking."
She was on his last nerve and he would put her back to her place for speaking to Christine in such a condescending manner. "Actually-"
"He's a doctor," Christine spoke instead, visibly upset.
Catherine stared wide-eyed, smiling. "A doctor, huh? Impressive. Good thing you can support starting a family."
Christine decided playtime was over. She was tired of this woman giving her a speech about choices she was questioning herself, and grabbed the last two pieces of clothing she saw. "We'll take these."
"Of course, let me," she folded them neatly and started walking towards the cashier. "A little girl, right? She must have her daddy's looks, then!"
Christine was at a loss. Was this woman hitting on Erik, all of a sudden? What looks? He was wearing a freaking mask! And hated her, for absolutely no reason? She only wanted a pair of overalls, not judgement over her whole life!
"I wouldn't say," Erik's majestic voice suddenly rang next to her, as a strong arm laced around her waist. "Probably she'll be as beautiful as her mother." He leaned in and softly kissed the crown of her head.
The woman was shocked, but did not let his affection overthrow her. "Of course," she muttered, "children tend to look like the parent they spend more time with, after all. And since the mother is always at home, it makes sense."
Christine leaned against his chest and she could hear his heart beating furiously.
"That doesn't sound scientifically proven," he snapped, "but my wife's the breadwinner in the family and I stay with the baby. Father's leave, you see."
The woman nodded and Christine could not understand her nerve. "It's so sweet seeing a devoted father. I guess some women are too busy chasing their dream." She laughed nonchalantly.
She was right there! She was listening, for God's sake!
Erik's arm was too tight around her and his eyes were now glowing in rage. Were they somewhere else, she would be dead meat.
Handing the clothes over to the cashier, she turned to leave and set a thin hand on Erik's shoulder. "Thank you for coming," she said, looking straight into his eyes. "I'm sure your little one is lucky to have such good role models. She'll make a wonderful doctor one day."
The girl checking the clothes handed the bag to Christine, gave a soft 'thank you' along with an apologetic smile and turned to the next customer.
They walked outside slowly, with confidence, but all Christine wanted to do was disappear into a hole. She gave one last look to the store and saw that little wretch leaning against a column and watching them, with a smug smile on her lips. Her hand twitched in Erik's and her eyes watered.
"How dare she..." she broke into a silent sob.
Erik stopped right next to her, exactly in front of that terrible woman. "Christine, forgive me."
Before the girl could even process what he was apologising for, he swept her around, grabbed her cheek and kissed her deeply, slightly leaning her back. Her breath was cut and a squeal caught in her throat, but his cold lips were soft against hers, and she melted into his arms, returning the kiss, while running her free hand through his hair.
When it was over, after god knows how long, they stood in the rain, still holding each other, drenched to the bone.
"Christine, I...please..."he rasped, but the look in her eyes silenced him.
"Don't you dare say you're sorry," her blue eyes were shining and he swore he could eat her up, that's how beautiful she was. And he loved her. God, how he loved her.
The saleswoman didn't exist anymore, even though her face was priceless at the sight and she was laughed at by the girls at the front desk. Another couple inside the store swooned and kissed softly as well, the woman holding her round belly.
Saying nothing more, they got under another store's tent and continued their walk, embraced under Paris's rain.