A/N: Chapter Eight! The characters are set and Erik's evil and good side have both been shown (kind of) to Christine. Their pasts, though, are a different matter. Enjoy and review :)
The sound of a violin wafting through the bedroom door began to make Christine stir. She opened her eyes and saw she was back in her room without any recollection of walking to it. Rather than allowing this to bother her, she listened intently to the violin. It was very familiar, the music being played. She gave a start when she realized why. He's playing it. Standing quickly Christine walked out to see him in front of her. In the hallway he stood, playing his violin. He's really playing it. The sound was so soft, but it gave her chills to hear him.
He looked up for a moment, meeting her eyes for that fleeting second, before looking quickly away. What had possessed him that morning, to play outside her bedroom this morning, he could not explain. Instead he just played, ear intent on making sure the integrity of the song was maintained. He hadn't been able to sleep that night, so he'd spent most of it playing with his violin until he was satisfied with the sound. More than ever, he wanted to play well at this moment. The original composer was standing there before him, after all.
Christine stayed beside him and listened, unsure at the stirring she felt inside as he played. She'd only meant to write a little piano tune yesterday, but he'd done so much more for her. He was playing her piece to her, using a different instrument. When he'd looked up so suddenly she hadn't had time to say anything. Instead she'd felt the blood rushing to her face. When he'd looked away again, the music kept her heart beating fast. All of this moved her. He stood there giving her something he'd probably been working on all night.
As the song came to its end, Erik righted himself. His long black hair covered his eyes, and his hands gripped his violin. He wondered what to say, if the first words should come from him or the girl, but his mind was blank. He had nothing to bring up, really.
"Thank you." Erik had turned the moment she'd said that. She was standing in front of him, hands clasped together, smiling at him. At me. Christine took another step towards him, and Erik was glued to his spot. "Did you work on it long?"
"No. It was easy." He backed away, meaning to go put away the violin in its case. "I think it will work well with the piano." Erik walked to the den to put away the violin.
"It was..." She tried to find the right words for the surprise, "I've never been woken up by someone playing music for me. Thank you." Immediately she'd realized it was the wrong thing to say. Erik shifted uncomfortably, and she felt more awkward than ever.
"I'm making breakfast." He didn't wait for her response and headed to the kitchen. His departure made her less anxious, and Christine thankfully went away to change.
As he prepared the tea he began to calm down. Erik continued to be surprised by her. The way she acted confused him. Christine was being held here against her will, but she hadn't been very cruel to him. Yet. She allowed him near her. Not too near. She had asked him to teach her. But not to stay here. Turning off the tea kettle he poured the hot water into the teapot. Is this what it will be like everyday with her? He readied some rolls and butter in the oven, head elsewhere. In his mind he saw her smiling at him. Don't look at me like that. Don't do things I can't understand.
"Do you need a hand?" Erik turned to see Christine come into the kitchen wearing the light pink dress he'd bought her, curly hair tied back with a matching ribbon. He looked back at his rolls and shook his head. "Are you sure?"
"Christine, I've prepared my own meals for a long time. I'm fine." The tone in his voice was a little annoyed, but Erik tried not to show his irritation at her repetitive question. I'm just not used to anyone asking once, let alone twice.
"All right. I'll set the table, then." Christine understood his tone but wasn't going to give in. He'd done something nice for her, and she felt like being helpful in return. She walked over to the cabinet and pulled out two teacups and saucers. As she began to set them down, she turned to him. "In which drawer do you keep your silver in?"
He watched her in a mix of annoyance and surprise. Why does she bother me so much? When she'd turned to him he'd been caught off-guard. Her wide eyes looked at him without a trace of fear. Instead, she looked weirdly determined to set his table for him. He sighed and sliced some lemon for their tea. "In the second drawer on the right."
She nodded her head and went over. Opening up the drawer Christine pulled out the silver and went back to setting the table. She didn't feel his eyes watching her now and then, studying her. Finished, she took her seat and waited for him. He brought over the tea and rolls on a tray and set them on the table. She was going to reach out for the teapot, but before she could Erik picked it up and began to pour her cup.
"Thanks." She mixed some honey into it as he sat down and poured his own cup. She took a roll and placed it on her saucer. Raising her head slightly, she saw Erik looking into his tea in deep concentration. Before she thought better of it she interrupted his thoughts. "Are you all right?"
His eyes flickered to her face and then back to his tea. "Fine." Taking a drink of his tea he returned to his normal self. He ate quietly with her, but spoke softly. "I'll be giving you music lessons every day, Christine." She swallowed quickly, interested. "It will have to be later in the day. I'm in school a good part of the day." He stopped short, seeing the change in her expression. She set her teacup down.
"Oh. Ok," she murmured. Her heart sank. She wanted to reason with him, more than ask him about his schooling. Going to a good school had been the one reason she'd left her home. Without it, what was she doing in this city? I want to sing... I promised my parents...my father.. She wanted to yell at him, but she knew it was useless. He'd get so angry, and he'd never agree to let her go. He couldn't risk letting her go since he'd nearly killed someone right before her eyes, since she knew his name and face. She squeezed her hands together under the table.
"You weren't making progress at that school, Christine." Her eyes shot up to view him as he spoke. "You have natural talent, but your time there hasn't been spent wisely. I can help you, though. With me teaching you, you will excel." His eyes seemed to shine to her. "I will demand much of you, but it will be worth it. Will you accept the challenge, Christine?"
"Yes." Her response was automatic, flying out of her mouth before any doubts could make her rethink. "I want to sing." He placed his hands on his lap.
"Then forget about the life you knew before." Erik knew his words were heavy, but it was better that she understand that the outside world shouldn't matter to her anymore. The sooner she gets it, the better off she'll be. He stood and picked up the dishes. He was setting the teapot and dishes to dry when he heard her quiet reply.
"When will you start teaching me?" She remained sitting in her chair, arms crossed. He walked to her and held his hand out to her.
"Right now. We'll start by finishing the composition." He fought to control his arrogant smirk as she took it. She followed him to the piano and let herself be seated on the bench. Erik took his place beside her, but before his hands found the keys, Christine tugged at his sleeve. "What is it, Christine?"
"I'm afraid of you."
"I know." He responded without any hurt or anger. His hand found its way to Christine's ribbon, and he tugged gently. It fell loose and her curls spilled around her downcast face. "Who wouldn't be afraid? A fool or a dead man." He kept the ribbon but brought his hand back.
"I don't understand you." She brought her head up and met his eyes. Her chocolate orbs didn't betray her worry, and his emerald ones didn't show his surprise. Turning back to the piano, she settled her fingers over the keys and began to play. He soon joined her, dismissing everything but the music they were creating.
Hours later, with empty dishes and music sheets blotted with ink lying strewn around them, the piece was ready. Christine seemed to glow next to Erik, excited at the accomplishment. Erik had to admit even he felt it at its completion, and perhaps a small part of him felt proud of her as well. A tiny, tiny bit.
"Will I start practicing the piece soon?"
"First, you need more instruction on the piano and your voice needs to be improved. We'll work with pieces you're already familiar with. Once you've mastered your instruments, we'll work on this." Erik reverently set the sheets on top of the piano. Christine nodded her head and got up. She stretched her arms out and massaged her neck with one arm, unaware of his eyes on her. Erik also left the bench, picking up their discarded dishes. It's the first time I've eaten in the den. "Christine, do you read much?" Erik knew the answer to his question, but wanted to ask her all the same.
"I love to read," she replied with a little smile. Erik nodded his head.
"I have a small library in my room. Wait here." He disappeared into the hallway, then into his room. Christine was left watching him and wondering why she wasn't trying to follow. Forget the life you knew before, she could hear the warning in those words echo through her, but there was something else in it. Did he know it hurt to remember school? Is that why he said to forget it? She was lost in her own thoughts when she heard his voice.
"Christine?" He'd seen her pensive, and walked to her with books in hand. She snapped out of her reverie and looked at the book he was holding out to her. She took it and read its title. Paradise Lost?
"Have you read it before?" He asked her. Christine shook her head, flipping through some pages. "It's a long poem, based greatly on the bible. Milton's a bit tough, but it's rewarding." He took his own book, Othello, and sat in his armchair.
"Have you read it?" She turned and sat on the sofa. He looked up from his book and nodded. "Did you like it?"
"It's been one of my favorites since I first read it." He settled his eyes once more on the page, but knew that Christine was still observing him. Stifling his annoyance at being watched, he turned the page. "Read, Christine." When he didn't hear a reply, his curiosity got the better of him. He looked up to see her reading, concentrating on the book as if he weren't there. Satisfied, he settled in to his chair and read, knowing he'd probably have to carry her to her bed again tonight. He pulled out the pink ribbon from his pocket and placed it on the arm rest to use as a bookmark when the time came.
A/N: At last, she shakes him up! Will there be an uneasy truce or will another fight break out soon? Only I know for now, but please read and find out! Many thanks for the reviews, too. I'm really excited about writing because you guys are willing to help guide me.
