A/N: Thanks to everyone for the great reviews...and especially to Jaina because I am grammatically challenged.
Upon closing the door, Claire turned around and leaned against it. She put her hand on her chest and took a deep breath; her heart was pounding and her legs were shaking. His power, his presence, his…Claire did not know the words to describe it. Opening her eyes, she gently pushed herself off the door and headed down the hall.
As she began to unbuttoned her dress, Claire caught sight of herself in the mirror. She watched herself grin, wondering where she had gotten the courage to whisper goodnight in return, to say his name.
Erik, she mused. The name evoked images of strength and mystery, much like him, she thought. Glancing back up, Claire found her reflection blushing furiously. She suddenly reached for a robe to cover herself as she changed in an attempt to retain her modesty, even though she knew she was alone.
As soon as her head hit the pillow, her girlish thoughts vanished and reason returned.
Don't be stupid, her mind screamed. You can't possibly like him like that, he's your master and you are nothing but a silly servant girl.
Claire rolled over and pressed her face into the pillow, muffling her cry of frustration at the unexpected turns her life had taken.
Besides, reason added more softly now, he doesn't even like you like that, he was just toying with you. And anyways, I'll never be able to love a man, to have a husband, after what my stepfather did to me.
Claire closed her eyes and let the tears run down her soft cheeks. She cried because deep down inside she knew that reason was right.
Their next few piano lessons together were awkward. Claire was shy and timid, not having the courage to ask any new questions. Erik noticed this right away, and wondered where the brave, sensual Claire of two weeks ago had vanished to. Although he would not admit it, even to himself, he was worried that he had frightened her. He hoped though that perhaps she had simply run out of questions to ask him, but he doubted it, for Claire always had questions. Yet despite her recent shyness, Erik sensed that she seemed more relaxed than before and he smiled as she played, relived that she was past his old outburst.
Something, though, was still nagging at him. She would now look him in the face, but refused to meet his gaze since that night. Maybe she though that he would hypnotize her with his searing gaze. Suddenly, the image of a doe-eyed Christine entered his consciousness, and he smiled sadly at the memory.
Claire finished the piece and looked up at him expectantly, only to find him looking distant and sad. The look in his eyes reflected such immense pain and grief that she felt her heart break, and she could not force herself to look away. Slowly she reached out her hand and was about to lay it on his, when he woke from his reverie. The instant he looked at her he yanked his hand back, disgusted by the look of pity in her eyes.
"Don't touch me," he growled, standing up.
Claire pulled her hand away as though she'd been burned. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, confusion evident in her voice. "It's just that you looked so sad, and…"
"Well, I've had a sad life, and I don't want your pity or anybody else's," he spat. He turned towards the fireplace leaving Claire staring at him in shocked silence.
Erik squeezed his eyes shut in anger. Why did I tell her that? I didn't even make her work for an answer. How could I make myself so vulnerable to her? He opened his eyes and, grabbing the nearest candelabra, threw it into the fire.
Claire gasped and stood up. Erik turned to face her, his fiery eyes burning with rage.
"Get out!" he bellowed.
Claire opened her mouth as if to speak, but thought better of it.
"Get out!" he screamed again, taking a few menacing steps towards her.
Claire's look of shock turned to one of fear, and she bolted from the room.
