Little Lotte- More fluff... why do I write it? I hate fluff... oh well... Love you! And what's up with Erik not knowing music? I prey you are just being sarcastic, like all those other comments in it... Love you!
Warning: More fluff, and slight comic relief.
Chapter 37
"It's so large!" My left hand clung to Erik's arm tighter, in awe at the beauty before me.
"Only the best for my love." He stole a quick kiss.
"It's even better on the inside." His triumphant smile widened.
"It is perfect." My eyes widened like a young mutt. A giggle of excitement escaped my lips, causing Erik to laugh as well.
"You act as if you have never seen one before." He commented sarcastically.
"Well, Besides my father's, and your's, I have never had one to call my own." He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, letting it dangle just above Henrik's sleep form, which laid pressed against my right chest.
"I'm glad you approve."
"Erik, how could I not!" I turned to face him, looking up into those loving eyes.
"When you said you had a surprise, I never expected this." If the child had not been in my arms, I would have embraced my husband.
"A house!"
My gaze left those perfect eyes, to gaze upon the large property. We stood on the side of the street, gazing up at the oversized home. Everything about it was overwhelming, from the pale white paint on the walls of the structure, the large rose gardens, to even a small stable peeking out from behind the rear of the home.
"How on earth could you possibly afford this? I don't even think the patron of the Opera house could!"
Erik laughed slightly, leading me through the massive red oak doors. The inside of the house took my breath away. Despite the aristocratic outer appearance, the inside resembled the same rich, Gothic style of our old home. From the deep red walls, golden candelabras, mohagony wooded furniture, to the giant chandelier in the main atrium, the house couldn't have been any closer to my dream home. The house was completely furnished, some of it, from our old home, including his giant pipe organ.
"When did you get everything in here?" I asked, walking over to the writing desk that sat at the end of the room, which past resting place was beside his organ, my battered copy of faust laid on the top.
"While you were with Meg, showing off Henrik, Murtagh found some men who would move it, without any sort of questions." My husband, the master at surprises.
"When did you buy this place?" I asked, my curiosity grew. How long had Erik been able to keep this secret from me?
"Does it matter, Mon Ange?" He asked, knowing I wanted to know, only wanting to play with my patience. I rolled my eyes at his childish behaviour.
"It does." My voice was louder than I wished, causing Henrik to stir in my arms.
"Do you remember the night we danced out on the stage?"
"How could I forget." I glanced down at Henrik, his mesmerizing eyes fluttered open, as the small child yawned.
"When I came up behind you, I was returning home from signing the last papers." Erik also took notice of his son's waking presence, and softly took him from my arms, cradling him in his own.
"There is something I want to show you." Those loving eyes locked on mine, before he lead me up the winding staircase. He stopped at a closed door.
"I hope you like it." Slowly he opened it, revealing a brilliant nursery. He lead me into the sky blue room, a large, white cradle sat in the center of the room, a small, pale blue arm chair sat beside it. Erik placed Henrik in the cradle, rocking it softly for him.
"Erik." I whimpered, looking around the nursery.
"It's perfect, like everything you have ever done for me." He smiled down at me, kissing my forehead.
He returned his attention to the child, softly singing our son to sleep.
Night time sharpens
Heightens each sensational
Darkness stirs, and wakes imagination
silently the senses, abandon their defenses
Helpless to resist the notes I write
For I compose the music of the night.
Erik's voice faded off, as the child already laid fast asleep.
"He loves your voice." I said, wrapping my arms around his torso, resting my head against his shoulder blade.
"But, who wouldn't?" I couldn't see my husband's face, but I knew he was smiling.
"Now that Henrik is asleep, there is one more thing I want to show you." He pulled away from me, making his way to the right, where a large, white door sat. he turned to me, a wolfish grin upon his face. He opened the door, revealing the master bedroom.
The phoenix shaped bed sat in the center of the main wall, a large, Victorian fireplace sat to one end, whilst the other sat a oversized vanity, and full length mirror. Just about the bed, a large, oval stained glass window depicting a pair of angels laid. The light form the window cascaded over the bed, creating a rainbow of rich, deep colours to lay upon the black red sheets. Like the day Erik proposed to me,deep red roses scattered the room.
"Oh, Erik!" I threw my arms around his neck, bringing his face to mine in a passionate kiss. When we finally drew apart, both of us gasped for hair.
"Where is Ayesha?" The thought just crossed my mind.
"Murtagh is taking care of her." He panted out, attacking my lips again.
"Shouldn't we bring her home?" I asked when we parted again.
"Not yet." A wolfish grin spread across his face, as he guided me over to the bed, layng me down as he hasn't done in what seems like ages.
"Let us enjoy being alone first."