The cacophony in his mind ceases as she pulls him to her. The paranoia towards her intentions fades away into nothingness as he returns her kisses - how could he have ever doubted his angel? Of course she loves him or she would not have returned to him time and time again, would not be here with him now otherwise. Let come what may in the future - all that matters is right here and now, this one singular moment.
Time seems to stand still as they sit there on the couch sharing languid caresses and long, slow kisses.
Christine's heart is triumphant. Finally she can embrace him in the way she's yearned to do for so
long now. The entire world boils down to the two of them, as though nothing else exists.
They finally break away to catch their breath.
"Oh, Christine." he sighs, cradling her face with one trembling hand. "We must talk about your choice of musical transition between the third and fourth stanza of your second song."
This earns a laugh from her as she falls to his chest and his hands run through her hair.
"Is it really that terrible?" her voice is muffled as she rests her forehead on his shoulder.
"It is... Not the best." he presses a kiss to the top of her head. "But we will work on it together and come up with something that fits much better."
"I did the best I could without a teacher, you know."
It's his turn to chuckle.
"I know, love, but I did not say it was all bad. There are only a few places that need polishing, and it will be perfect. It will sound beautiful performed on stage."
She pulls away from him.
"You think it's good enough for the stage?"
"Well, its only about twenty minutes long right now. But if you keep adding to it, I'm sure it will draw quite a crowd."
She bites her lip shyly, his confidence in her work warming her heart. Unsure of how to respond to his praise, she unties his cravat and uses it to tug him closer to her, resuming her kisses and trailing them down his now bare neck. He continues the gentle trace of his fingers up and down her spine.
She feels the vibration of his words rather than hear them as he says them, too lost in her own thoughts and the sensations he was causing.
"What was that, darling?" she pauses.
"I said, do you think we'll be able to find a priest to marry us?" concern creases his face.
She pulls back to look at him properly.
"You want a priest to marry us?" she isn't certain she heard correctly. She knows he has had bad experiences with a priest when he was younger, and this question out of the blue takes her by surprise. "Why is that?"
He twirls one of her curls around his finger, eyes intent on that when he answers softly.
"Because you would want a priest."
Christine feels she is melting. She loves this man so dearly.
"Oh, Erik..."
He knows that her religion is important to her. In the past he had accidentally stumbled in upon her in the chapel lighting a small white candle and sending her prayers up to heaven - a private moment he did not wish to intrude upon or eavesdrop on, but as he was leaving he was struck to hear his name mentioned along with petitions for his safety and wellbeing and the memory of hearing those words was still one of his favorites. What he did not know, of course, was the frequency with which she brought his name before the saints in all the years she had known him, and of the candles she lit for him in the village chapel every single night during those long months in which she did not know his fate.
"It may not be easy, but I will not stop until I find one, no matter how far and wide I must search." she smiles at him.
He nods at this and brushes some stray curls away from her face.
"I am sorry that you will not be able to have a large ceremony with friends or a party afterwards."
"A small ceremony is just as well. It's okay."
Erik does not look convinced, but gives a sad smile to his fiancée who he is certain is only pretending on this matter to ease his mind.
"I mean it, Erik. The point of the thing is to declare our devotion to each other, not throw an elaborate spectacle. As long as we are husband and wife afterwards nothing else really matters."
He pulls his Christine to him in a hug, serving the dual purpose of feeling her close to remind him that this is really happening, and to quiet her, because he still cannot bring himself to believe that she's perfectly fine with this arrangement but he is certain that her pure heart will continue to try to convince him otherwise, so he pretends to accept this answer.
"I'm sorry I left you, after the Christmas party. I just- I had to be sure." he whispers.
She nods, her head on his shoulder.
"I understand."
He swallows hard, hoping his next words will not betray how close he is to tears.
"Christine, I- I am not an easy man to live with. If ever you should find the day where being with me no longer brings you joy... I do not wish for you to suffer, Christine. I will release you from any vows to me and you can be free once more, I swear it. All you have to do is say the word and I will let you go."
"Erik, love..." she looks up at him and sees the sorrow in his eyes. "I cannot imagine a day that you do not bring me joy."
"Oh? I can."
"That may be, but you're forgetting that I am already well aware that you are difficult. Besides, you may find that I am not the most perfect roommate either, you know. For all you know, I might leave dirty laundry strewn about everywhere or something."
He's silent for a few minutes, one hand gently brushing through her long curls.
"Do you leave dirty laundry strewn about?" he finally asks, curious.
"Erik!" she laughs. "That is not the point!"
She snuggles closer to him and sighs.
"Your offer of my freedom is very kind, and I do appreciate the sentiment of you worrying over my happiness, but we will cross that bridge only if we ever come to it, my dear. You get too caught up in your mind, I think. I love you terribly, and I don't see that changing anytime soon." she hesitates before continuing softly. "Remember, Erik, that even after everything I've seen you say and do in the past, I still wrote you an opera, I'm still wearing your ring, and I'm still here in your arms. 'Doubt thou the stars are fire; doubt that the sun doth move; doubt truth to be a liar-'"
"'But never doubt I love.'" he finishes quietly.
He holds her a little tighter and silent redoubles his vow to himself that he will protect her from harm, that he will cherish her for as long as he can.
They are both loath to leave the room, despite the late hour. The prospect of parting, even for a few scant hours of sleep, seems ludicrous.
She can't remember the last time she felt this content, this safe. It must have been before her father died, certainly. There are no longer any buzzing worries in the corner of her mind, no what-ifs or maybes. She feels a peace deep down in her soul - all is how it should be. The troubles that will arrive with the coming days have no place here now. She loves him, and he loves her too, and surely together they can face and deal with whatever is in store.
"Erik... Do you think, if it were possible... Would you be able to stay the rest of the night with me in my room?"
"Christine!" he feigns a scandalized tone before lowering his voice to husky timbre. "Not until we are married."
She shoves at him playfully and huffs.
"No! I didn't mean like that! I know it's probably silly, but I'm just..." she squirms in his arms, realizing it sounds not probably silly but definitely silly, yet pushes on anyway. "I'm afraid all this will disappear if I let it out of my sight. Like we'll leave this room and tomorrow it'll be like none of this ever happened."
He hums thoughtfully.
"I know just what you mean. But unfortunately we cannot take the risk of me being seen if I were to stay in your room. Besides, it is already tomorrow."
A glance at the clock confirms this. In fact, it is so far into 'tomorrow' that she fears she very likely will run into one of the employees whose job is to clean the floors in the early morning.
"You must be getting some sleep before you go to work, dear." he tells her in a tone that brokers no disagreement. "It's not healthy and I won't have you fainting of exhaustion halfway through your day on account of me."
She briefly considers asking that if he can't stay up here with her, could she not go with Erik into the catacombs? But somehow the words don't make it out because now he's standing up and pulling her to her feet with him. He murmurs his goodbye before pressing a chaste kiss to the side her face and slipping back behind the secret door.
Christine walks back to her room, her mind floating in a daze with thoughts of love and her hand resting on her check where he had kissed her last. If she passes anyone in the halls, she doesn't notice them. It's only now that she realizes how tired she is - it has been an incredibly long day. She falls asleep as soon as her head touches the pillow.
