A/N: Just a short update, I should have more (and much fluffier than this) up by tomorrow night.
miffster: Thanks for the review, and the suggestion--I have changed the category to Phantom instead of Musicals. Muchas gracias!
marykate65: Wow, thanks! I feel happy now, my story has been called beautiful! I agree with you on the nerve-wracking; sometimes I like angsty stories, but sometimes we all need a little fluff. Or a lot of fluff. Take your pick.
phantomlovin4ever: I'm glad you like the 'angry' scene--it was really iffy to me becauseI wanted to writeErik getting -really- angry at Christine, butI felt like I couldn't come up with a good reason for him to be mad at her. Thanks for reading!
erikphan24601: Thanks! Hot chocolate is delicious . . . I don't know why waitresses give me odd looks when I order it in the middle of July . . . -grin-
Christine
Nadir left them after three weeks; Erik thought he saw Rookheeya a little too clearly when he watched the pair of them. They were constantly moving, day by day making their way farther and farther south. For a time, it seemed as though their pursuit had been thrown off. Christine managed to believe that they were simply taking an extended honeymoon, stopping in small towns every night as they wandered toward Italy.
That illusion shattered the first time they snuck out of a hotel in the middle of the night; Erik had noticed the hotel manager speaking to a man who looked suspiciously like a gendarme and had been tracing the shape of a mask on his face.
They spent that night in someone's barn, Erik holding her closely. Christine shivered as she began to realize what she had not allowed herself to before: they were fugitives being chased by the law. She had not thought Erik was still awake, but his voice, deep and soft, spoke from the darkness above her head. "Do you know now why I did not want you here? You would have been safe, away from me—they aren't looking for you yet." He nuzzled her throat. "Will you make me watch them hurt you?"
"I am scared." Christine pulled him closer, meeting his lips with her own. "But I am not alone, and being with you is worth whatever happens."
Erik
She was exhausted. We had spent the last week traveling hard, living in cramped, filthy lodgings and avoiding all bright places. I could barely bring myself to take her into such surroundings; since I had no choice, I mad certain that Christine was never out of my sight. She made this easy by showing no inclination to stray farther than a hands-breadth from my side. My delicate butterfly was not meant to live in places like these, not at all, but her gossamer wings had a strength to them, and it was that strength I was depending on to pull her through.
The more tired Christine become, the colder she got, until not a night passed she didn't spend shivering despite my most devoted efforts to keep her warm. I worried constantly about her catching an illness, and as I lay and held her, my mind was raging with fury at the two men who were forcing us into this life. I had caught glimpses of Messrs. Haron and Lorea; they looked just the type of pushy, nitpicking, superstitious bloodhounds who would love a sensational case like mine.
But then, I was prejudiced.
Finally, we were only a day's journey from Italy. Christine, who had always been slender, was down to nearly wraithlike proportions. I took a long look at her by my side and determined that, close pursuit or no, we were staying in a proper hotel. Christine didn't even blink as we entered our first brightly lit lobby in a week; I think she was honestly too weary to notice. She perked up a little when I settled her into the big double bed of our rented room, tucking blankets around her. "Better?" I asked as she snuggled into the pillows.
"Much better if you were here," Christine answered, reaching her hand out to me. I wrapped it in both of mine and kissed her fingers, resolutely ignoring how her tiny bones felt even more fragile than usual.
"Forgive me, love, but I have to retrieve a few necessities we are running short of. Don't give me that look, Christine," I added as her dark eyes reproached me. "If I was going to leave you, I would have done so in Vienna, where you had an apartment and an income."
"That makes sense, I suppose, " Christine yawned and smiled up at me. "I miss you."
I groaned and leaned down, pressing my face into her neck and holding her tightly. "Tempt me and I won't be going anywhere," I murmured. "I love you. I miss you. I'll be back as soon as I can." I hated leaving her; that pleading look in her eyes wasn't helping any. But we were in desperate need of several things—food, soap, clean clothing—that I would not see her do without, so I forced myself to pull away from her and quickly walk out the door, locking it behind me.
Christine
Erik was gone, and she found herself drifting hopefully towards sleep. Though she tried to hide it, Christine had not had a full night's rest in days. Most evenings she just lay still in her husband's arms, curling up to him for warmth and comfort and trying to conceal the fact that she was still awake.
She had very nearly drifted off when a heavy knock sounded at the door. Grateful that Erik had ushered her into bed fully clothed, Christine rose and checked the peep-hole to see who it was. She opened the door for the hotel manager; the man looked upset. "Is your husband home, Madame?" He inquired immediately when she let him into the room. Christine shook her head. "He requested to be informed if anyone was asking after him, and we have two gentlemen in the lobby who seem interested in knowing whether a man in a mask has been seen here recently." She had lived long enough with Erik to know that "requested to be informed" meant "paid handsomely."
Christine forced herself to take a breath, pushing away the spurt of panic that had risen in her. "You have been paid for the night, yes?" She asked. At the manager's nod, Christine asked another question. "Is there any way out of the hotel other than through the lobby?"
"There is a servant's entrance, Madame."
"Good." Christine was grateful that Erik had forced her to learn at least a few things to do if they got separated or she suspected they were being followed. "I will take our things out the back way, then, and leave a message for my husband with you. It would be very helpful if you could rent the room again so that they find someone here other than us." And, of course, it meant that he would be getting paid twice for one night's stay. The manager accepted this and the message for Erik cheerfully; she slipped him an extra few coins to be certain that message did not make its way into the wrong hands. Then he left, and Christine swiftly grabbed the few—thankfully still packed—possessions that had so far survived their journey and left the room without looking back.