Antoinette squeezed her a little tighter.
"Oh, Christine," she sighed. "What do you mean, dear?"
Christine pulled back from her, her expression confused but her words spoken with a resolve that surprised even herself.
"I'm in love with Erik."
Antoinette's heart sank for her. She smiled sadly and nodded.
"Why don't you go sit on the couch, dear, and I'll make some tea for us and we can talk about this, okay?"
Christine went to the living room in a daze. In a few moments Antoinette joined her, carrying a tea tray which she set on the little table next to them.
She sat down next to Christine with a heavy sigh.
"I think, my dear, that it's important to manage your expectations in regards to Erik. I know that you can't help how you feel, but you must keep in mind that neither can he. It's not something you can take personally, Christine - Erik just isn't like most other people when it comes physical affection. It's nothing to do with you at all, it's just how he's wired, dear. Does that make sense?"
Christine nodded, keeping her eyes on her teacup.
"And you can't expect that to change for him, either. There won't be any magical moment that he realizes all he needed was the 'right one' to change how he feels about physical relationships. It just doesn't work that way. If you're considering being serious about him - or about having a life with him - that's something you'll have to accept without any resentment."
"Does he not like to be touched at all, then?" Christine asked in a small voice, suddenly afraid that she had done something wrong when she had hugged him after he had been unmasked.
Antoinette tilted her head, thinking for a moment.
"No," she said finally. "I don't think I'd go so far as to say that. He does typically try to avoid touching people, but that has more to do with self-consciousness over his cold hands than anything else. But he doesn't have that problem with Nadir or me or anyone else he knows well. He has hugged me on occasion, as well, so I wouldn't say he's entirely adverse to touching. I've never seen him kiss anyone, though, nor seen anyone kiss him. You'd have to ask him yourself what he feels about all that, I'm afraid, but I wouldn't count on it being something he enjoys."
A thought occurred to Christine. Madame and Erik were close in age, and they had worked together for so long, and they didget along so well... And she seemed to know quite a lot on this subject about him.
"Madame, have you and he ever-" she could feel her face coloring, and she quickly regretted asking, but the question was practically already out there and she might as well finish it. "- shared feelings?" she squeaked, horribly embarrassed by herself.
Antoinette choked on her tea and grimaced.
"Goodness, no! No, no," she shook her head. "It's not like that between us - it never has been, either. I love him, of course - but he's like a brother to me, and I know he thinks of me as a sister, too."
"I didn't mean- it's just- well I didn't know if maybe you knew all this about him from- er, personal experience," Christine rushed to explain.
Antoinette chuckled.
"No, not quite. We haven't really discussed it at length, but he did explain it a little to me a while back after he turned down the advances of a rather lovely woman. We were out at a bar with Nadir and this woman approached Erik, you see, and he flat out sent her away! Nadir teased him endlessly about it, and I gave him a little grief over it, too. Apparently we hit a nerve with him because he felt the need to logically and systematically lay out the reasons he saw no point in flirting or in dating anyone, saying that even if by some miraculous chance she wasn't repulsed by what was under his mask, she'd be terribly disappointed in his lack of, ah, desire."
She raised an eyebrow at the memory.
"He was quite surly about it, actually. And we felt badly, of course, because we were rather to blame for his mood and we knew it. The poor man. We couldn't even blame his mood on having too much to drink - he only had a club soda. But he explained, and we understood as best we could, and all was forgiven."
There was a pause before she continued.
"I've known him for ten years, Christine, and in those ten years I've never seen him give the slightest interest in forming a romantic relationship with anyone," she told her gently. "If you do decide to approach him with how you feel about him, you're going to have to be prepared for being turned down as the most likely outcome."
Christine nodded. It was a lot to think about.
"Does- does he not want to have a person around him who loves him, then? I know he isn't interested in a- a physicalrelationship," her face burned and she stuttered, but she had to ask, had to know. "But- but what about just a purely romantictype of relationship?"
Antoinette stirred her tea, considering Christine's question for a long moment.
"I think," she said slowly. "That he just wants to be loved for himself. But that's not easy for him to find, you know. Acceptance is not something most people grant freely to him. But I couldn't say with certainty what he wants out of a relationship, or if he even wants one at all. Those are questions whose answers you could only get from him. Anything I could say beyond what he's already told me on the matter would only be guesses."
"Thank you, Madame," she said gratefully. "I appreciate it."
She stayed and talked to Christine about other, lighter topics for a while longer. After that Christine went upstairs and prompted Meg for the latest stage gossip, eager to find something for her mind to focus on.
But still her thoughts continually turned to Erik - poor Erik, unmasked against his will and now all alone.
"La Carlotta is demanding they tear down some of the walls between her dressing room and the one next to it so it can all be one giant room just for her," Meg rolled her eyes.
Was he okay?
"Isabell and Peter are back from their honeymoon, and wouldn't you know it? Isabell has asked for some time off for personal health matters - five months off, to be exact. Five. I guess that explains to rush to elope, then. I just hope the baby has his hair and her eyes - that will be so adorable!"
Would he remember to eat something?
"The elastic came off of my pointe shoes today, and I just know it was Colette who sabotaged them," Meg sniffed. "I went up to do a pirouette and the next thing I know I'm falling over because my shoe is coming off! I could have broken a bone or snapped a tendon! I showed her, though - I went to the chemist and asked for an oil that could remove hair - and I put some on all of her brushes and combs. Let's see how superior she feels when she's bald!"
What must he be feeling? Nothing worked. The thought of him was like an ache in her chest that nothing alleviated. Finally she hugged Meg and went back downstairs.
She crept into the living room once more, tapping her fingers together as she tried to think of how to explain herself.
"Madame," she said in a small voice, prompting Antoinette to glance up from the book she was reading.
"Madame, something happened today, and..."
Antoinette set the book aside, concerned.
"And everything will be okay, I think, but-" she wiped a tear away and continued in a whisper. "But I'm worried about Erik."
"Oh, dearest, what happened? What's wrong?"
She had told Erik that she wouldn't tell anyone what happened down in the tunnel, and she intended to keep her word if she could.
She looked down at her feet, not wanting to lie to the woman who was almost like a mother to her, but not wanting to betray the man she now realized she loved.
"I don't really want to talk about it, but- it was a very... trying day, emotionally, and I just- I don't think he should be alone right now. Do you think it would be alright if I went to stay with him tonight?"
An awkward silence pressed down on Christine. Antoinette was about to answer, but Christine cut her off with a hasty defense.
"I'm not going to tell him anything about- about what we talked about earlier. It's nothing like that. It's just- well, you know how he forgets to take care of himself sometimes," she smiled weakly. "I think he could use some dinner, and some company."
Antoinette smiled at her.
"Of course, dear."
Christine breathed a sigh of relief. She wouldn't feel right until she was there with him, until she knew he was okay. The need to see him - and soon - grew with every passing moment, as though there were a deadline she was rushing to make, a timer counting down until it would be too late.
"Do you think we could stop by a restaurant on the way there and order some food to take to him?" she asked hopefully.
Antoinette placed an arm around Christine's shoulders as they walked to the front door.
"I think that's an absolutely lovely idea, Christine."
By the time Erik made it back to his apartment, he felt hollow inside. Away from Christine's sweet lies, the truth began to taunt him.
This won't change anything between us, Erik
Lies.
And now she knew the truth, too. That he was not her Angel of Music, that he could never be that. How could he have even dared to let her entertain that thought, when he was a demon? Perhaps it was because he was a demon.
Every time he closed his eyes, her face was all he could see. Her face, and that expression. That expression he had seen so often before, in the crowds that came to see him as a child, in the Shah's court, in Luciana's face before she-
And now Christine. Even Christine. Had he expected anything different?
But still - surely he had the better end of this deal - because almost certainly right now whenever Christine closed her eyes, she saw him.
He could just picture how it was going to go down tomorrow. Antoinette would drop by and thank him for all of his help and politely inform him that his services were no longer needed in watching Christine. She would make up some excuse, perhaps, that Christine's schedule had changed, or that she needed Erik to focus on some other case she'd make up for the sole purpose of distracting him, but he would know the truth.
The need to be able to take something to make all of this fade away had not hit him this hard in years. He knew for a fact that Antoinette kept the office quite clear of any kind of alcohol. Perhaps he would have to go to a bar. Ah, but there would be peoplein a bar. Well, the stores were still open, he could buy any assortment of bottles there and bring them back here to imbibe in solitude. He longed for the effects of something much stronger, but was surprised to find that he didn't quite hate himself enough to put himself through all that again. Where had he found the nerve to actually care a shred for his own wellbeing? He chuckled wryly.
Still, he decided he would go to the store, buy a handful of whatever looked nice, bring them back here, get spectacularly drunk and hopefully wake up with no memory of the entire day before.
He had just shrugged his coat back on when a knock came at the door.
Odd. He had locked both doors, so whoever got through the first one must have the keys, yet they knocked instead.
It must be Antoinette, he thought to himself as he went to open it. They must not have wanted to waste any time in telling me Christine no longer wishes to be in my care - perhaps it's Antoinette here to tell me she longer wishes to have me as a partner, maybe she's here to turn me out of the apartment, I'll have to pack quickly, hopefully I can come back for the organ, presuming she doesn't burn it down the second I'm out the door-
He swung the door open, unarmed and uncaring, expecting to find a stern Antoinette - or perhaps some strange intruder who picked locks and knocked to announce themselves.
But it was Christine.
He stopped and stared down at her, unsure what to make of her presence there on his doorstep, looking up at him hopefully with a paper bag in her hands.
"Christine," he said.
She smiled at him, then she took in his state of dress and her smile began to fade.
"Oh! Were you on your way out? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt if you had somewhere you needed to be," she twisted the handles of the paper bag in her hands.
He hesitated only a moment.
"No, I wasn't going anywhere," he took a step back and opened the door wider. "You can come in, if you like. Do you need something?"
He felt like his mind had blown a fuse. Christine, here, with him - it made no sense.
She smiled hopefully once again, pushing a stray piece of hair away from her face.
"Well, I thought that maybe you wouldn't feel up to cooking very much tonight, so I- I brought you dinner... If you'd like it, that is."
She handed the bag to him, and he was careful to not let his fingers brush against hers.
"Thank you," his tongue felt too slow, but his surprise was quickly replaced by something else.
"Christine," he said firmly. "Did you go out by yourself to buy this and then come here?"
Her eyes went wide and she shook her head.
"No! Antoinette is just outside, she was with me the whole time," she insisted.
He nodded brusquely.
"Good."
He took the bag over to the desk and set it there, all too aware of her eyes still following him.
"Did- did you need anything else?" he hated the waver, that tremulous hope he could hear in his own voice.
"Actually, I was just wondering," she looked down at her feet. "Would you - would you like some company while you eat?"
He was silent a long moment, trying to understand what exactly she was getting at.
"Is Antoinette coming in, too?"
"No," she said softly.
He paused.
"Christine," he warned her. "If Antoinette leaves and you stay here for dinner, I highly doubt she's going to come back to pick you up and take you home again. I'm far too tired to take you back myself, either."
His words hung in the air and he looked at her cautiously. She nodded.
"You'll have to stay here, all night. With me," he insisted, trying to make sure she understood.
"I know."
She shifted uncomfortably on her feet. Perhaps this had been a bad idea after all.
"If you'd rather be alone, I completely understand, Erik-"
"You can stay, if you like," he swallowed hard and turned away.
"Let me go inform Madame! I'll be right back!"
She rushed out the door, leaving Erik to huff at the suddenness of it all.
Antoinette raised a brow at Christine, who barreled out the second door.
"He said yes," she told her breathlessly, and Antoinette gave a little laugh.
She handed Christine the second bag of food and placed her palm over the girl's cheek.
"I'll be by in the morning, Christine. Enjoy your dinner and your night, dearest."
She waited until she saw Christine close the second door before she locked the first once again and started on her way home.
Antoinette watched as the sun slowly started its descent. There were still a decent number of people milling about, hurrying this way and that to finish their errands before the day's end. The click of her heels against the pavement added to the symphony of urban noises all around her, and she let her mind drift towards the two people she had left behind in the office, cocooned away from the hustle and bustle of the outside world. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, sending up a silent prayer that somewhere down the line, regardless of if it was together or not, both of her dear friends would find the happiness that they so deserved.