Erik lay awake for a long time that night. In the darkness, the only sounds were the faint lap of the water against the portcullis and the whisper of Meg's breath.
Each night she had curled against him and he had not had the strength to push her away. He knew he could now, but he did not. He let her stay where she was, warm, secure, and, now, familiar beside him.
She had asked him. He knew that such curiosity was inevitable. And, truth be told, he found himself wanting to tell.
He wanted another human being to know what had taken place that night.
But he was also afraid. How much could he really tell her? How much could she stand to hear?
She says she wants to know…very well, she will know…everything.
She stirred a little bit and moved even closer, quite carelessly letting her hair fall across his bare face. He reached up to sweep the curls away.
Then he stopped. He had never felt anything so soft on his twisted features.
He caught his breath when she turned and her face came to rest against his, her smooth cheek pressed to his own deformed one.
He did not dare move now, did not dare awaken her only to have her shrink back from him and scream in horror.
She wouldn't do that..she's the one who took the mask away. She's touched you…touched your face last night.
No, he'd seen the look in her eyes when she'd returned and seen him with out his mask. He'd seen the way her gaze darted away to the floor.
This cannot go on…it will not go on.
He knew she would not stay. Once she heard the truth from him, she would leave. She would never come back again.
This would be the last time he would know what it was like to feel a woman beside him in the night, however innocently.
He was so tired. The effort of playing the organ with his injuries had drained his strength again. But he did not want to sleep now.
He wanted only to hold back the dawn, a dawn he could not even see in this place of constant shadows and endless isolation.
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