Disclaimer: I have an "I Love Erik" pillow! No? Fine, nothing then :'(
Chapter 2 - Musing and Masseuse
Slowly she turned to behold him smiling. Smiling! Basking in the glory of her being able to accomplish such a feat. Taking her hand not holding the delicate crystal and gold jar, and placing it on the wide expanse of his back, she directed him to the plush maroon velvet wing chair that he preferred during the hours that he was not creating another great composition.
Sitting on the ottoman in front of him, and carefully placed it on the end table next to them, she opened the lid and withdrew the white substance onto her hands. Rubbing the concoction between her palms to warm it up, she noticed his rolled up sleeves. Well, his forearms to be precise. They were well shaped and strong looking. She recalled when he brought her down here he sang of the music of the night and held her gently in his powerful and yet tender embrace. Just looking at these limbs capable of crushing force, it was amazing that he knew just the right amount of strength to use when with her and was confidant that he would never harm her in anyway.
Yet the memories of when she removed his mask came to mind. How foolish she was to think that it was her place to remove it. That idea was both presuming and ill-considered on her part. Erik seemed to be two different people. The unmasked side of his face not matching the dashing well chiseled features of their counterpart. Immediately she felt regret for invading this man's privacy and learning secretes only trust and time would reveal. Trust. That's what needed to be rebuilt.
When Erik returned her two nights ago, after she had taken off his mask, he was pensive and solemn. The only words spoken between the two were of his name when she asked him. She knew an apology was necessary, but was late and she was tiered from the emotional events of the evening. Madam Giry was there outside her door and came to check on her and told Christine that Meg had explained that she had gone missing and instantly knew where she had gone and who with. The remainder of the evening was spent with the two women speaking of Erik, and Christine questioning her of his past and all the ballet instructor knew of him. After all knowledge was disclosed to her, tears streaked her face from the story of his life. A life no human should have ever experienced. Now an apology did not sound enough, but rather sounded frivolous, petty. What kind of person was she to cause him more pain than he already endured? Hadn't he had enough as it was?
She wanted to go to him at that very moment, but Madam Giry insisted she get her rest for the next morning and afternoon held rehearsal. She also made a point to mention Erik's temper and thought it best if Christine wait till the next night. Grudgingly she agreed, and Madam Giry promised to show her the way back.
His indignation the night before was in her head when she fell into a restless sleep. He had not purposed to push her away with such force, she was certain, but desperately wanted to be at a distance from her to shield her innocent eyes from his disfigured form. His exact word's were, "monster, loathsome gargoyle, repulsive carcass". How could he think of himself like that? She certainly did not. True, never before had she beheld such a sight, but really was it not how he was as a person that should matter? Not the outward appearance. Her father taught her that, and she would never forget it.
Still she knew deep down that he would never hurt her on purpose. If anything she felt safe with Erik. After all, how could he bring harm willfully when he loved her... Loved? The thought dawned on her. He did love her...