A/N: Make it two chapters… I'm not putting the next one up until tomorrow, I've decided you must wait :-D

Chapter 39- The Room

Erik's eyes were fixed on Emily as she walked away. His mouth was warm from her kiss and his mind throbbed and tormented him. It tormented him even as her lips were pressed against his. Emily was pretty, she had a wonderful smile and a seemingly soft temperament but something wasn't right. He glanced around him cautiously before beginning his walk back to his house. The sun was out, high above him, boring down to the earth as if it were the middle of summer. Early spring was suiting him nicely this year, he thought as he wandered through the fields, en route home.

His mind drifted to the firmness of the kiss when Emily had sensed no resistance from him, she had pressed herself hard against him, placing her arms around his neck and pulling him close. It was true that he hadn't resisted, why would he? He hadn't been that close to a woman in... he shook his head, it didn't matter.

Did he like the kiss? Did he feel anything? He wasn't sure what he felt, his body was warm from her touch but that was seemingly all. Or was it? Perhaps he had simply forgotten what it was like to open up to a woman. He wondered if it were such a bad thing.

Why was his head hurting him so much?

He was over half way back to his house before he realised that his heart was aching, as if it was weighing him down. How quickly a person's mood could change, he thought. He looked up at a bird circling over the field and with a derisive chuckle he wondered if it was a vulture.

And suddenly he knew what he was feeling. It was guilt. In his heart he felt as though he had somehow betrayed Christine. He laughed at himself, angry, bemused at his own mind.

As he got to the top of the hill he glanced forward at his house and realised that something felt different. Something looked different. He allowed his eyes to drift around the field mentally he noted the trees were the same, beginning to allow the leaves back to their branches. The grass was green, the air was warm, the door to his house was closed, the gate was shut, the... there was light in the bedroom window.

With a sudden jolt he bolted forward, towards his house, pulling his sword from his side. He darted forward, throwing the door open and almost off it's hinges. Glancing around him quickly and taking everything in he ran upstairs, weapon out in front of him.

Christine?

She was in the room, alone, sitting on the floor with paper in her hands. She was staring.

Erik stood at the door and slowly put his sword away, he looked at her but she seemed as though she hadn't noticed him. His anger at her had diminished quickly as he walked around her and looked at her face, she was ashen.

He crouched by her side, looking at her, she glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. Her skin was pale, paler than usual and her eyes seemed dull. His eyes had adjusted to the poor light rapidly and he saw the red bloodshot edges.

'Christine...' he whispered and she stared at him. His words were stuck in his throat and that which was so powerful was now suddenly gone. He needed to find his voice.

'Why?' she said and he shook his head.

'This isn't how it looks,' he said, trying to find words to make her understand.

'What?' she said, her voice was low and hoarse.

'What are you doing in here?' he said, in an attempt to sound angry. There was no need for him to explain.

'What?' she gasped, her eyes filled with tears. She blinked and one trickled down her cheeked and dripped from her jaw. It landed on the paper in her hand.

'Stand up,' he said and she did, but she stared at him with defiance. 'Lets go.'

'No,' she said, firmly. 'I'm not your toy, I don't obey your every command.' She glared at him, fists balled by her side. 'Explain.'

'I...' he began but words failed him.

'What have you done?' she said. 'What are these?'

'Christine,' he said and then rolled his eyes. 'Your turn to aristocracy should have given you experience with these.' He took the paper from her hand and screwed it into a ball.

'Don't turn this around, I want to know what the hell is going on!'

'They're photographs,'

'And you took these?' she said, her voice getting higher.

'No,' he said simply and began to walk out.

'Why?' she said. 'Why do you have photographs of her?'

'Christine...' he said, his throat becoming tighter. She had never stood up to him like this before.

'Why?'

'Enough!' he shouted, his voice booming from the pit of his stomach. He reached out and grabbed her arm, pushing her out of the door but she spun around, ripping her arm away from him.

'Why?' she said, the tears stinging her eyes again but she remained steady, her eyes burning into him. He looked right at her.

'It's complicated,'

'Erik,' she said his name for the first time since he had asked her not to. His heart bounced against his chest. 'Why do you have photographs of Meg?