Christine watches Erik sleep, and ponders over her love for him. A one-shot with a twist at the end.

Namesake

Christine quietly sat down on the edge of the bed, determined not to wake Erik. He had been a tad under the weather recently, and she had convinced him to go to sleep early – a daunting task, for he was often most active at night. But he needed his rest.

As she watched his steady breathing, she felt a slow smile blossoming across her face. It seemed that no matter how foul her mood, whenever her eyes fell upon Erik, her spirits were immediately brightened. He had an innate talent for making her smile, with his funny comments and wild stories.

She extended her hand and gently ran her fingers over his tousled dark hair. He stirred slightly in his sleep, his hand falling out from the coverlet. He mumbled something under his breath, and although she didn't catch the actual words, it made her smile. It seemed she had loved him forever, before he had ever come into her life. And now that he was in it, he meant the world to her. She had always thought she had completely understood all matters of the heart, but her love for him was a completely different kind, one that she could never have imagined before he came along… and she was grateful for it. Not a day went by when she did not thank God for Erik in her prayers.

His face was so calm and peaceful. He had fits of temper now and again, and of course he had his good moods as well, but he was never so tranquil as when he slept, and she loved to watch his serene face as he slumbered. Occasionally she would accidentally make some noise and he would wake, and gaze up at her with drowsy bemused eyes, and smile sleepily. Sometimes he'd ask what she was doing, and her answer was always the same. "I'm just watching you, dear." He never questioned it, merely mumbled something and dropped back off to sleep.

Christine smiled to herself and stood up, careful not to disrupt the bed, and leaned over and kissed his forehead. When she reached the door, she paused, turning back and gazing for a moment longer at her son.

Erik's nearly four, she mused absentmindedly as she left the nursery, making her way back to her own bedroom, where her dear husband Raoul was most likely already asleep. Maybe soon, I can tell him about his namesake.