13
Hours later, Erik has put his hands to better use. On a canvas, in the little side room some ways away from his music, he is painting her likeness. Raoul watches from the water, where he is allowed to bathe. Erik's hands move quickly, and his strokes of coal appear entirely crude, utterly misshapen, until he pulls his hands back to calculate his next stroke. Only then can Raoul see where the image is coming through the canvas, and he leans forward against the bank, brow contorted, fascinated. Something sinks inside when he the face becomes clear.
Christine.
Raoul turns away, and wades deeper into the water. He doesn't wish to see what he may no longer hope for. His keeps his bruised hands close to his body, protectively, and stands alone by the iron gate to watch.
