A big thank you to Mominator124, Astrophysicschic, peanutpup, WolfShadow1, phanrose, Batty Dings, SloaneDestler, SacNikte, Pensez-a-Erik, Child of Dreams, EvaLark, Aphaea21, TheTenthMuseSappho, Phantomgirl24, ruukii, PhantomBove, Badpixie06, MaFerviolon, YinuoTong, and crawfordphantomluvr for the wonderful reviews! I really appreciate it so much!

TW: mention of rape

Enjoy!


Christine

Chapter 38

The Afterglow

Although we spent the night within each others' arms upon the roof, under the millions of stars above, our clothes never left our bodies. We never went further than small touches and kisses. Every so often, I would awaken, wanting to go further - but he looked so incredibly peaceful, eyes closed and face calm, that I was loathe to wake him. And when he did wake up, look at me, smile, and kiss me - I was reluctant then, too. If he said no, then it could ruin what we did have now. This simple sweetness that I didn't want to end. The afterglow of our confessions last night.

I was drifting out of a deep sleep when I felt Erik's arm wrap around me, his hand trailing up my bare back and into my tousled hair. I felt a soft kiss against my forehead. When my eyes fluttered open, I found his face pulling away from mine, tender adoration in his eyes. When I looked behind him, when I looked up, I saw a pale blue and yellow morning sky.

"Good morning," he whispered.

I smiled. "It is a good morning."

He smiled in return. "For a moment upon waking up," he said, "I thought last night had been a dream. But then I opened my eyes and..." He sighed, stroking my hair. "I love you." His smile grew. "It feels marvelous being able to finally say that out loud."

I put a hand on his arm. "Technically speaking..." I played with the silky sleeve of his robes. "You could have said it anytime."

"I had no idea you'd even accept those words from me, Christine."

I moved a little closer to him. "I adore those words from you. And I adore you." I leaned in to kiss him. He softened against it, intertwining his fingers into my hair.

He pulled away again, looking at the brown mass upon my head. "I love these curls." He pulled his hand away and pulled on one lock of hair. It sprang back when he let go. "They're beautiful. You are beautiful - in every iteration of the word."

I sighed, glowing inside, and closed my eyes. I felt another kiss on my forehead, and was about to open my mouth to tell him how beautiful I found him, when a sharp noise shook me from my reverie.

The roof door opened and closed with relative force.

I shot up to a sitting position, but Erik stayed where he was. He was behaving as though he were expecting this - as though he knew it was coming. And, by the closed-eyed look on his face, he was sorely disappointed about it.

Standing by the door to the roof was Nadir Khan.

The Daroga's eyes went wide at the sight of me and Erik side by side. His nostrils flared and he went entirely rigid.

"Erik," he said lowly. He was watching him with an expression of something in between rage and...and perhaps sadness. Surprise.

Erik rolled to his back, but still don't open his eyes. "Yes, Nadir, hello. Good morning."

"How long have you and Christine been up here?" Nadir's hands flexed and curled subtly. "All night?"

"Noticed the missing blanket, I presume?" Erik finally opened his eyes and stared at the sky above.

"And Nazneen said she thought she heard footsteps around midnight." His jaw became tight. "Once again, you are trespassing-"

"Then we can be out of your hair," Erik said, finally sitting up. "Our apologies." He stood and offered me his hands. Both of them. I took them and let him pull me up. "Good day, Nadir."

"I simply," said the Daroga though his teeth, "find it funny how you decide not to come here when it's expected of you, but will do everything in your power to arrive when I don't need you here. You come here while I'm retiring to bed, yet you've missed every meeting we've had since your gift was returned to you."

"My gift-" Erik whirled, his temper suddenly hot - I could feel the heat in his expression and voice. "My gift has a name. Christine. You will address her as such. Tell Ibrahim to do the same. She's not a damned rose."

Nadir ignored him. "You slept beside her last night."

Erik didn't respond.

"You told me, Erik," said the Daroga, "that I had nothing to worry about. That she wouldn't interfere with what you promised to do. But now I find that you are skipping meetings, no doubt to breakfast with her. You're laying out blankets on my rooftop to sleep next to her. Why, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were infatuated with her."

"No," said Erik, "I'm not."

"And yet-"

"Infatuation is short-lived. What I feel isn't."

It took a moment for Nadir to understand what he meant. And when he did, his eyes seemed to glass over. Become emotionless. His tension disappeared, and was replaced with something much...colder. Unkind. Sinister.

"Careful, my friend," Nadir said coolly. "Roses can be fragile. Going forward, I would keep your..." He glanced at me. "I would keep your fondness for them quiet. We don't want anyone knowing the Violet Dawn had the right idea about how to crack the infallible Angel of Death's armor, do we?"

Erik bristled. "Is that a threat, Nadir?"

"No. It is a warning." He turned, and opened the roof door. "There is breakfast downstairs should the two of you care for it. And Erik-" He looked over his shoulder at him. "Do start coming to our meetings again. I know we are not as pleasant to be around as Christine. But, if you care about her as much as you imply, I think we both know what is best for you to focus on. The goal is to send her home, is it not? For even if her father is alive, even if she has a trustworthy escort, you do understand that the Shah won't take kindly to having his gift packaged and mailed back to France. Really, think about it, now. She can't be safe until he's gone. Consider where your priorities lie, yes?"

"We can," said Erik through his teeth, "easily kill the Shah tomorrow-"

"And what about Rookheeya?" Nadir whirled, looking suddenly feral. "What about the woman I loved? Am I not entitled to recompense? Am I not entitled to watching him burn after what I saw him do to my wife? No..." He regained his stature. "No, we will do this correctly. We will do what we said we would. And if you won't put in your final piece of the puzzle, then I dare say I will place my own piece in. But for God's sake, you hold the puzzle itself, so at least build the foundations of it. Now, like I said-" He put his hands behind his back. "Breakfast is downstairs. Enjoy it. I have lost my appetite - wonder as to why - so I will see you at the palace. Good morning."

And he was gone.


When Erik and I arrived in the dining room, he appeared entirely on edge. As if the reverie of last night, the bliss of it, was completely wiped away by Nadir's harsh words. He'd once told me how little he cares for realism. How much he likes fantasy. If he felt anything similar to the way I felt, then last night on the roof really was a fairy tale. Nadir had just forced him back to reality. He'd forced me back to reality too.

And, quite honestly, I think I was developing a distaste for realism as well.

What didn't help his unease was the fact that, at the table, was Ibrahim, finishing a plate of eggs and fruit.

Erik sat down as food was brought to us. I sat next to him. We were across from the Grand Vizier. Ibrahim looked between us, an uncomfortable frown on his face, and cleared his throat.

"Good morning, Erik." He fingered a bit of kiwi on his plate and cleared his throat again, shifting a little. I wasn't sure I'd ever seen him as nervous as he was now - save for - "Last night..."

Erik inhaled. He was again wearing his mask, having put it back on after Nadir's visit with us on the roof. "What about it?"

"I'd like to talk about it."

"And I wouldn't." Erik cut into his poached egg with his fork. "In fact, I'd rather forget about everything that occurred before the end of that damned party." He placed the egg in his mouth and chewed. I sipped at my tea.

Ibrahim's mouth thinned. He looked like a little boy who'd just thrown a ball through his neighbor's glass window and felt genuinely mortified by it. "I really didn't mean to imply-"

"I know. It was a slip of the tongue." Erik was calm. "All is forgiven. If I held a grudge against every person who insulted me, accidentally or otherwise, I would lose every single acquaintance I had. Now would you please stop looking at me like I'm about to eat you? I can guarantee I'm only interested in consuming these eggs."

I picked at my fruit, almost smiling. I had no idea if he was being so merciful because he genuinely didn't care anymore, or because the later part of the night cancelled out the discomfort of Ibrahim's words. Either way, the Grand Vizier appeared pleased. He smiled and exhaled in relief.

"Well, this is good to hear." Ibrahim stabbed at his food with more vigor now. "I was afraid you were going to find me a nuisance forever."

"I do find you a nuisance. I always have." Erik smiled in return and said the last two words as though he were speaking kind, reassuring words to child.

"And I find you dark and disturbing." Ibrahim's eyes glittered with inner laughter.

"So then we have returned to normalcy." Erik nodded. "Wonderful."

"Perhaps not quite returned to normalcy." The Grand Vizier eyed me for a moment, amused. "Nadir mentioned on his way out that you and the Rose were on the roof together, lying side by side. On one of his good Afghans, too."

I blanched and made to sip more tea. Erik lowered his fork, eyes narrowing. "And what of it?"

"Well, I must warn you, friend." Ibrahim flashed his white teeth. "Trespass on his roof to sleep with your gift again, and I suspect Nadir might turn you into a eunuch and place your manhood in a small jar as a reminder not to disrespect him."

Erik leaned back in his chair. He avoided my gaze as he asked Ibrahim something softly in Persian.

Ibrahim threw his head back and laughed. "I'm not certain that a small jar would contain you." His eyes danced as they turned to me. "Christine? Would a small jar contain him?"

I nearly choked on my tea. My face, I knew, was quite red. I excused myself momentarily, suddenly needing very much to use the bathing room. As I walked away, I heard Erik growl under his breath, a warning that they'd just regained good terms, "That was entirely unnecessary."

Ibrahim ignored the warning; he only laughed harder.


Before leaving, we managed to catch Reza a few minutes before his Russian lessons. He couldn't talk for long, but he expressed to both of us that he missed us - my living there and Erik visiting every day. Erik and I looked at each other - and I think we both had the same thought. Perhaps visiting was in order, even if it did mean Erik had to attend those meetings he hated.

The journey through Echo Hall consisted of, once again, Erik holding out his lasso with one hand and his arm on my chest just over my breasts. Occasionally, I mentally willed his arm to go a bit lower, for his hand to travel there too, but I didn't voice it. Even if I was allowed to speak in these halls, my heart fluttered at the idea of voicing it; it fluttered so much that it drowned out the ability to speak at all.

When we arrived into his chambers, he closed the hidden bookshelf door, took my hand (not my wrist), and pulled me gently through his bedroom. I noted that he seemed to avoid looking at the bed, even as Ayesha saw him and stretched, paws out in front of her and back bent, meowing as she yawned.

When we reached the living room, he faced me, brought both of his hands to my face, and kissed me. The mask covering his upper lip felt strange on mine, but I didn't protest against it. I didn't want the kiss to end.

When he did ultimately break the contact, I sighed happily. I opened my eyes - I hadn't even realized I closed them. He was smiling down at me with extreme gentleness, eyes shining with adoration.

"If I could stay right here and kiss you the entire day," he said softly; I melted at the sound of his voice, "I would. Unfortunately, I have to work. And I fear that allowing you into the room while I do so will ensure that absolutely no work gets done."

I nodded, though disappointment coursed through me. He kissed me again and disappeared into his study - returning briefly with some paper and a pen for me - and spent the remainder of the morning with a door closed between us.

So, to pass the time, I drew. It didn't have the effect I hoped for - forgetting that Erik was merely a room away, forgetting the desire to open the door and hug him from behind - but it did aid in putting my restless mind to work.

Ayesha appeared, and the cat actually made the active choice to lie right next to me. She curled up into a ball and purred. I stoked her a few times in happy wonder, and her purrs intensified. She flexed her paws and adjusted herself so that I could better pet her stomach. To my surprise, she didn't swipe or bite when I ran my fingers through the fur of her belly.

I drew her, under a Christmas tree. I drew Erik, his mask off, face up, letting the sun hit his bare skin as his eyes closed, smiling, in the middle of Paris. I drew my father laughing at some joke, violin in one hand as he clutched his side, bending over with mirth.

And then the study door opened. I looked up from my drawing of my father when he sat down on the couch next to me. Before I could say a word, his lips were on mine. Again I felt the bit of silk against my upper lip - but this time I did say something.

"Erik?" I said, a breath away from his face.

"Christine?"

"Can you take your mask off when we kiss?"

He paused, only for a moment, and then obliged. He put the mask on the coffee table and leaned in again.

Yes. This was much better.

I liked his lips, misshapen as they were. In fact, because they were his lips, I couldn't imagine liking a normal pair any better.

And as he deepened the kiss, as he'd done last night, I felt it. I hadn't felt it before, not as strongly at least, but I did now.

I wanted him.

Wanted him.

A part of me felt ashamed for wanting the man I was trained to sleep with, but the bigger part knew that if it hadn't been for who Erik turned out to be, I wouldn't be wanting him as I did now. So, I decided, I would give myself some kindness in that department. I was only human. And it was natural to fall in love with kind, intelligent men - men who didn't force or expect or trick. It was natural for me to fall in love with someone like Erik.

"Do you..." I whispered, pulling away again. "Do you want to take a nap with me?"

His brows raised. He didn't exactly have eyebrows, per se, as the only hair that seemed to naturally occur on him was his head of hair. I wondered if his body had hair. Butterflies flitted around in my stomach at the idea of finding out.

"A nap?" he repeated.

I nodded. "I'm a bit tired after last night." I wasn't, actually. "I didn't sleep very well on the hard roof." But I slept well enough in his arms - I barely registered at times that it was a roof we were on.

He studied my face. When he spoke, his voice was even. "I'm a bit tired, too."

"You are?" I asked.

"No." He stood up and took my hands, helping me to my feet. "But a nap sounds lovely regardless."

I smiled, and let him lead me to his bedroom. Our hands separated as we both found our way onto different sides of the bed.

"Over or under the blanket?" he asked. Then he looked down at my clothes. "Under, I imagine, as you'd likely be cold. Unless you'd like to change. You're still in your Flower clothes."

I looked down at myself. So I was.

"And neither of us has bathed," he said.

I looked at him. "Do I smell?"

"No." He smiled. "Do I?"

"No."

"Then I supposed we can put it off until later." He patted the bed. "Under or over?"

"Under." I felt myself blush. "I don't feel like changing."

He nodded slowly and pulled back the blankets. I made my way in. So did he. I immediately made my way closer to him. He opened his arms for me to enter them, which I did, and he hugged me close.

And I felt so incredibly warm and safe, so happy, that I needed to tell him. Not just how happy I felt, but, perhaps too, how much I wanted him.

I sighed. "Erik-"

"Shh."

I looked up to his face. His eyes were both closed.

He put a finger to my lips and whispered, "It's naptime."

I giggled. He smiled.

"What is it, Christine?"

My blush returned. "I-" Want you. But I lost my nerve. I did the coward's thing: I asked him, instead, "Do you want me?"

His eyes opened immediately. He stared at me. For several seconds, he stayed like that, and I was about to rescind my question, or clarify it to mean something completely different, when he said, "Yes."

My breath stopped.

"But," he continued, "I'm not ready for that."

I blinked. "Oh."

"If you'll forgive me for it," he said, "I have a certain aversion to being nude in front of others. Even you, unfortunately."

I remembered - the memory striking my mind like sheet lightning - his mentioning that he'd almost been raped. I wondered despairingly if that was where his aversion came from. Or perhaps it was from years of people mocking his appearance.

Or, perhaps, both.

I found his hand under the covers. "I don't need to forgive you for it." I squeezed his fingers. "There's nothing to forgive."

He softened. "I want to work up to it. Eventually."

I closed my eyes. "Take as much as you need."

A long silence, and then a kiss on my forehead. The gentlest kiss yet.

"I love you, Christine."

"I love you, too, Erik."

Sleep claimed us both mere minutes later.