The Light of His Life
Disclaimer: Don't own POTO… but I do own Piers.
A/N: All my reviewers, I owe you my thanks. Umm… sorry for taking so… very… long.
Please read and review…
Chapter 11: Sensitive Souls Cling Together…
When the coming of morning woke Erik, he was delighted to find himself snugly situated under the captivating Christine Daaé – the woman who'd stolen his heart with her loveliness before she'd ever realised it… the woman he considered to be the only ever worthy of his effort and affection. He wasn't quite sure how they had gotten into the position they were in – with her lying more across his stomach than his feet – but he adored her for being so sweet and kind as to comfort him this way.
He leaned forward over her and smiled down upon her, taken with a sudden urge as he softly shook her awake. It was selfish perhaps, but his only excuse was that he loved her and that people do strange things when they are in love, or so he'd heard. "May I kiss you?" he asked the just awakened young woman before she'd even had a chance to survey her surroundings.
Christine smiled and touched his shoulder. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that…"
Startled that she had not agreed, he took that to mean that she did not want him to and he quickly extricated himself from her so that he was standing by the bed, not looking at her in his embarrassment. "Forgive me… I should not have assumed that we were on kissing terms now that we're back here… now that people know."
Surprised to find herself being rolled over onto her stomach so suddenly as he moved, she hesitated a moment and then pulled herself up to stand in front of him. "Don't get all insecure again… we have only just acknowledged this – if we were to take a few steps back now, we'll never get anywhere. Sometimes, in relationships, you have to be willing to leave yourself vulnerable if it means that we can move on." She wasn't exactly sure how she knew that since she had only ever been 'in a relationship' with him, but she believed it, and that was all that mattered.
Erik nodded and moved a bit closer to her, still feeling stupid. "I'm sorry… I don't know where I stand anymore – this has set us back terribly."
"We don't have to let it… we still feel the same way about each other – that hasn't changed, has it? All we have to do is get through this together."
"That's all, is it?" he asked softly, finding her adorable even under the circumstances. "You say that like all it is – all we have to do – is nothing…"
"Not nothing, no," she murmured thoughtfully. "But all we have to do is tell the truth… and that, Angel, is the easiest thing in the world."
Raising his eyebrows, he tentatively reached his hand out to her and waited while she took it before sitting back down on the edge of the bed with her. "Tell the truth? Do you really think so?"
"They know, Angel, about us kissing… there is no point in denying it when they can prove it. All there is apart from that is the truth that we have done nothing else together…"
Not looking at her, he nodded, though more in resignation than because he was confident that it would work. In fact, he thought it was totally hopeless… "I fail to see how we can explain away a kiss such as the one we shared without you being taken away from me."
"I am over the age of consent… and we do love each other. It was only a kiss… but perhaps you should call your solicitor before all of this starts off."
"Xavier…" he said thoughtfully, not really having realised that he would need a lawyer. "The last time he did something this big for me, he got me you." And truly, he owed Xavier the world for that, though he could have hired a dozen lawyers like him that would have done the same thing… but Christine was so special that he sometimes just found himself getting all emotional when it came to the fact that she could have been taken away from him then – that she could be taken away from him now…
Christine smiled and squeezed him. Her Angel was a sentimental one, to be sure, though few other people would believe it. "Then we're already off to a winning start, aren't we? If he can get you me once, he can make it so that you can keep me."
A long moment of silence passed as he thought about it and he wondered what would happen if he ever let himself accept that there was a possibility – a huge possibility – that he could be without her. He supposed he would fall apart if he let himself think about it for too long… but he would need to think about it if he wanted to be prepared for the worst. "Christine, we need to discuss something…"
"What is it?"
"In the event that I find you are to be removed from my care, I need to know what you want," he said experimentally, finding his fingertips suddenly very interesting.
"What do you mean?"
"I need to know if you will be willing to run away with me," he said seriously, though he knew he sounded like some lovesick teenager. He was desperate though, and very serious about it. Anything at all that threatened his relationship with Christine, he would overcome. "Had you been given back to Mrs. Giry ten years ago, don't think that I would have just conceded and faded into the background. I would have taken you," he admitted. "We'd be living somewhere in another country and your beautiful voice would be calling me 'Angel' in another language… and we'd still be together."
Christine nodded, knowing how much all of this meant to him. It said a lot when someone was willing to go as far as kidnap to keep someone with them and she knew better than to underestimate him. "Yes, yes, I'll do anything. But it won't come to that."
"So much the better…"
"Christine, put the knife down!" Erik yelled, taking a step back towards the worktop behind him as they stood in the kitchen.
Shaking her head violently enough to whip her curls about her face, she approached him, narrowing the distance between them again until she was right in front of him, the knife held threateningly in her hand. "No! Not until you tell me the truth!"
"I did tell you the truth, darling," he said desperately, putting his hands in front of him defensively. "I sweat it to you, now put down the knife!"
Looking at him pointedly, she refused to relinquish the weapon and shrugged her shoulders. "I have to be sure."
"Be sure without holding onto that particular piece of silverware, please."
"I'm sorry," she murmured as she lowered her eyes from his face and brought the knife down hard against his chest.
"No!" he cried out, bumping his head against a cabinet as he tried to jump back out of the way, forgetting that the counter was behind him. "Oh, for the love of Christ!" he shouted, plunging his fingers into the sticky red goo oozing on his shirt. "Jam everywhere! I hope you're happy," he said in his frustration, pointing a finger at her.
"Very much so!" Christine smiled, having gotten what she wanted. "I knew it wasn't strawberry," she added as she turned back to the chopping board and her toast.
"Didn't I tell you that?" Erik growled. "Didn't I tell you it wasn't strawberry? And isn't that the truth? Didn't I offer to taste it for you? But, no, dearest Christine likes to tell by the colour of it spread out! And not on your precious bread, no, but on me!"
"Here, let me wash it for you," she said, amused at his little display of anger. She knew he wouldn't be annoyed for very long – he couldn't be at her. Undoing the row of buttons slowly, she placed the handle of the little knife between her teeth to hold and continued, finding that it was actually more difficult to open them from that side.
As his hands were covered in the red goo, Erik could do nothing but watch in fascination if he didn't want to cover her in it too. Then he noticed the knife starting to slip from her mouth, and, telling himself it was to prevent further staining, he impulsively leaned down and took the knife from her mouth with his. It was a harmless pleasure, he thought.
Looking up at him strangely, Christine finally pulled the shirt off of his shoulders and couldn't work out what was so strange about him in that instant.
"Perhaps I should start testing the colour of my shoe polish on your blouse…" he suggested, going to wash his hands at the sink. "Though you'll tell me it's not brown, I'll make sure. And once I'm sure that it's black, I'll pull the blouse off of you and wash it for you… how's that for fair?"
"You can't, I'm a woman," she said proudly, smiling in her victory and putting her hands on her hips.
"So what?" he asked, moving back towards her.
"Well, that's on a par with me trying to remove your trousers…"
"You do that all the time," he pointed out, putting on a jumper that he'd retrieved from the radiator.
"The next time you fall asleep on the sofa, I'll let you fend for yourself then, shall I?" she asked, raising her eyebrow. "And don't blame me if your belt digs into you and you're too lazy to take it off yourself."
Turning around quickly and beginning to move away towards the utility room and the washing machine, she smiled out of his view as he predictably caught her arm and tried to apologise. "I'm sorry," he said meekly, reaching to gently take the soiled shirt out of her hands. "I'll wash this, shall I? You just eat and I'll join you when I'm done."
As he walked away, Erik did not notice Christine smile triumphantly that she had not only gotten away with spoiling his shirt but had also convinced him to clean it himself while she ate. And she did not notice the smile of triumph on his face as he walked away… because, whatever way anybody looked at it, she was still going to take his trousers off for him if he fell asleep where he shouldn't. And there was no better winning than that as far as he was concerned, he thought, laughing to himself. Yet another harmless comfort…
"Xavier, what is the big deal? You have represented me for years…"
The lawyer frowned and shook his head. He had known the man for years but he had never thought him the type to do what he was being told he had done. "Erik, this is unethical…"
"You're a lawyer… what is the big deal with the ethics?"
Annoyed at the stereotype and at the audacity of the man in front of him, who seemed to be clearly lacking in ethics himself, Xavier shrugged his shoulders and folded his hands in his lap. "We are talking about a child that I know you have had intentions upon since the very beginning… I now see why you were so adamant not to adopt her. There are a lot of things I would defend you for, innocent or not. But not at the expense of a child."
"I didn't have intentions upon her at all and I haven't hurt her… I could never hurt her. She reciprocates," he added, as though that meant it was all alright because she had not completely discouraged him.
Xavier looked at him sceptically and shook his head again. "She is not an adult yet, even if it is only a few months away, she is still not legally an adult… all the responsibility and the blame will lie on you, regardless of the fact that she did not immediately slap you in the face and tell you to stop or she'd scream." Sighing, Xavier looked back at Erik and tried to ignore the helpless look he saw. "Anything else… but not this."
"Angel, I'm sorry to interrupt," Christine said softly, coming in from the hallway. "I just… I need to know what's going on," she finished worriedly and Erik took pity on her, though he was feeling worried himself, gesturing her closer.
"It's alright, Christine," he murmured into her hair as she collapsed into his arms.
"Christine," Xavier said softly in greeting, not having seen her since she was tiny.
"What have you agreed?" she asked innocently, looking over at him. "You will represent him, won't you?"
Looking into the eyes of the girl who seemed so desperate to keep this strange man with her, he wavered and broke under her blamelessness. Why did she deserve to suffer when she was so scared to lose him? "Yes, of course."
"Oh, good," Christine smiled, putting her arm around Erik's neck. "I was so worried. What do you think will happen?"
"Well… the police will want to talk to both of you. He will get interviewed by child protection officers and I will be present," Xavier started, gesturing towards Erik and then looking back towards Christine. "You will be interviewed less formally because of your age and that they will be treating you as a victim. Yours will be videotaped, Christine, and I won't be present. Generally, you would be allowed a parent… in this case, I expect you will be allowed a friend who is an adult."
Erik and Christine shared a look then that he could not decipher and they nodded. "Piers," they both said at the same time.
"I'll call him," Erik continued, "I don't want you to be alone."
"I don't think I could ever be alone, knowing a love like you have shown me. You don't have to worry about me. All either of us should be concerned about is making sure that I stay with you."
Proud to be able to say he'd helped raise such a wondrous, selfless young girl, Erik felt his eyes get teary, but would not allow himself to cry. At the very least, he would be strong for her if he could be nothing else. Nodding, he turned back to Xavier, keeping his arms around her waist protectively.
"Go call Piers for Christine," the resigned lawyer said, feeling decidedly awkward around the pair of them. "Tell him to come over here and then we'll get started on you telling me what's been going on in a bit more detail. It is important that both of your stories match."
"Are you alright?" Christine asked uncomfortably, placing a steaming cup of coffee on the desk in front of Erik, hoping that it might perk him up a bit as he was rather subdued, perhaps expectedly.
His head bowed in sadness, he lifted it for her sake and looked at her longingly, trying to make himself remember the way she tilted her head, and the way she looked lost when he was sad, and the way she tried to comfort him constantly. "I'm just trying to prepare myself for it all… I am going to lose you today and it is killing me already."
"Who says you're going to lose me?"
Letting out a tortured breath, he reached out for her hand and brought her closer. "Even if they decide not to formally charge me, my love – they won't decide that in one day. I will likely be without you tonight and for the foreseeable future."
"I didn't realise it was this big…" Christine murmured, feeling as though she'd been hit in the gut with that information. "I don't know why, I just sort of thought that it would be alright."
"And it will… but it might be a while before that."
Sighing tiredly, Christine slumped down in the chair with him and left it up to him to be bothered to make sure she didn't fall. "Are you alright, Christine?" he asked as he brought his arms around her. "You look like you could use a bit of sleep."
"I look that bad, do I?" she laughed, trying to make herself feel less awful by making light of the situation.
"You could never look bad. But I think you should rest… if it does come down to it, I want to be sure you are well and I don't want you to be losing sleep over my temporary absence."
"I suppose I could use a couple of hours…" Christine conceded, trying to hide a well-timed yawn. "When is Piers coming?"
"Just after lunch… I need to know that there is someone here with you when I am not. And Xavier is coming back as soon as he is done in the office." Looking at his beautiful, beloved girl, he stroked his hand across her cheek affectionately and allowed himself to kiss her. It wasn't a particularly passionate kiss – in fact, neither of them moved the tiniest fraction during it – but it was reassuring and comforting all the same. "We'll be alright."
Standing up, she took his hand and started upstairs. "Christine?" he said questioningly, squeezing her hand as she pulled him through his own bedroom door. "Is this wise? I'm not sure if we should be doing this today when–"
"Can't we just take a nap?" she interrupted, annoyed that they could not even do things together that they had been doing for years without double questioning them. "Just a simple nap, Erik… a chaste, unadulterated, innocent nap in the comforting presence of the one we love most in the world – that's all, Angel."
"That's all, is it?" Erik smiled, repeating something he had said earlier that day as he helped her under the covers. "That sounds like such a great deal to me, Christine." Happily, he got in behind her, wrapping his arms snugly around her as he found himself getting tired as well all of a sudden. "Are you warm enough?" he asked concernedly, unable to keep his protective instincts from focusing on her every second that he was alive. "I could get you some more blankets… turn the heating up… I could get your hot water bottle."
Christine laughed in amusement and turned to face him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Stop worrying about me. You are keeping me warm admirably. All I need is you… and sleep," she added as an after thought, relaxing back onto her side. "I need sleep." She couldn't wait until things got back to normal again.
Erik smiled and nodded. "I'll wake you up so that you have enough time to eat before Piers gets here."
"Thank you, Angel," she said as she closed her eyes and settled down into the pillow.
He knew that they would not have much more time together… he just hoped that their heartbreaking separation would not be deemed permanent. He would never stand for it, to be sure, but he could not be doing with the sort of hassle it would cause them. And as he tightened his arms around his beloved, hearing her little noise of frustration that he was still not letting her sleep, he smiled peacefully against her hair and took in a deep breath. They would be fine… because they would always be together.
"Happy birthday, dear Christine, happy birthday to you!" Erik finished happily, unable to prevent himself from smiling in a deranged manner as he bent over and kissed her on the nose. "Now, blow out your candles… all seventeen of them!"
"Yes, Angel, I am familiar with the tradition, yes," she said, amused at her Angel's silliness. "Do you want to help me?"
"Really?" he asked, amazed that she would want him to.
And Christine rolled her eyes at him – he always helped her blow out her candles, though she'd long since outgrown the need to, and he was always peculiarly surprised that she wanted him to every year, without fail. "Yes, really, you silly man. Now, help me blow out my candles." Shaking her head at him, she counted them down and they extinguished all of the flames in one go. Erik liked to think that it was because they were well-suited as a team. Christine liked to think it was because one fully grown man and a young woman, both trained singers, could muster enough breath and coordination in their lungs to blow out seventeen tiny, fragile flames between them.
But Erik was a fantasist by nature… perhaps because of all those years he had wished to be something else – to live another life and have another face. Such thoughts of another life had stopped since he'd met his reason for living, but sometimes he still fantasised about himself and his beautiful Christine – and what they could have together. She was a very sensible girl, he found, and sometimes she thought him silly, but they were so amazing together, he believed, that they would be even more wonderful as a married couple. Still, she was only just seventeen and he was getting ahead of himself again.
"Where did you go to just now?" Christine asked curiously from beside him.
Blinking for a second, he turned to look at her and smiled again. "What do you mean?"
"You spaced out on me for a minute there…"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I was just caught up in how wonderful you are… and how lucky I am."
"You are so soppy sometimes, Angel," she said, standing up to cut the cake, and Erik felt embarrassed at what she had said, his self-consciousness returning fully. "I love it," she added after a moment, and his heart felt like it had started beating again.
Shaking off his brief upset, he put his hands on her shoulders as she cut him a piece, and squeezed her back against him. "You have one present yet to receive," he murmured against the top of her head.
Surprised, she turned back towards him and returned his embrace while looking up at him in wonder. "Another present? But you have given me so much…"
He handed her a small envelope and watched as her face lit up when she opened it. "A provisional?" she squealed excitedly. "You got me a provisional license?"
"I had to forge your signature, I'm afraid," he smiled naughtily and kissed her nose again, as he was wont to do. "I just wanted it to be a surprise for your seventeenth… I am going to teach you how to drive."
"Oh, Angel," Christine squealed again and squeezed him so hard he couldn't breathe for a second until she let go and started doing pirouettes around the room in her happiness. It was a joy for him to see that he'd made her happy in that sort of way. He looked at her curiously as she suddenly stopped and looked right at him, her beautiful eyes open wide, "When can we start?" she asked.
And he laughed, taking his car keys out and getting a pair of L-plates that he'd bought her. "Why not right now?"
Squealing excitedly, as was becoming a habit that day, she grabbed his hand and ran outside to his car as he got it ready for her. And soon enough she was learning eagerly what to do when and why and she was sure that this was the best birthday ever.
It being her first day learning, they did not do it for long and she happily called it a day when both of their stomachs started to rumble. She was just thrilled that he could be so thoughtful.
"When you pass your test," Erik started eventually when they'd finished eating and were sitting comfortably in the living room. "And you will, you know – I'll make sure that you are ready… anyway, when you pass your test, I still don't want you driving without me in the car."
Lifting her head from his shoulder, she looked at him curiously. "Why?" she asked.
"Because I couldn't bear it if something happened to you… we must always be together."
They were always together, she realised. It had never been that obvious to her before, but they were rarely separated. And obviously, he was scared of the day she would no longer need him to drive her around because it meant that she would be growing more and more independent from him. Nodding her head, she laid back down against him and hugged him. "Yes, Angel, I promise… we shall always be together." And they would, it was true, because no man could ever separate two people who loved each other as strongly as they did.
"Hello, Piers," Christine said as she let him into the house, Erik standing anxiously behind her like her shadow. He had been doing that since they'd gotten up, the realisation that their time together was drawing to a terrifying, albeit temporary, close having sunk in while he slept.
Stepping inside, Piers first shot Erik a glare and then looked kindly down at Christine, placing his hands on her shoulders. "And how are you, princess?" he asked seriously, resurrecting a nickname he had not called her since she was tiny, and had only ever called her because of the way Erik had spoiled her. He had long since come to think of the girl as Erik's daughter and his unofficial goddaughter, if you will – he was sort of an Uncle Piers to her – and he certainly did not approve of what Erik had been doing while he had remained unaware of it. If protecting Christine meant turning his back on an old friend, then he would do so with bowed head and heavy heart, for he had come to love the girl as though she were family, and he couldn't bear it if Erik had caused her some unfixable harm. It wasn't right for her to have lost out on the chance at a normal life when she was so young… she should have been allowed be a carefree child and not have to make these sorts of decisions until she was a fully grown adult and living away from home – from him.
"I'm bearing up," she answered truthfully, having to hold back laughter at her old nickname.
"Can I do anything for you?"
"Just be here for me while Erik can't…"
"Of course I will."
As she collapsed upon the sofa in the living room, Erik close behind her, Piers felt like he was thirteen years too late to save her from the life she was living with her masked guardian as her only companion at home.
Eventually, Christine got up because she couldn't stand the silence, and Erik was just on the verge of following her. However, Piers would not allow it. "You really screwed up this time," he said in a heated whisper as soon as Christine had left the room.
"Thank you for pointing that out to me," Erik replied dryly. "There I was thinking that it was normal to be hanging around, waiting for police to show up and question me."
"Well, you can only blame yourself… you certainly cannot blame her."
Freezing in his attempt to get up, Erik looked back at Piers in surprise. "I could never blame her," Erik said seriously, shocked and offended that anyone could think he was capable of having any negative feelings towards his little angel. "I am aware that I am about to pay heavily for my own blasted stupidity."
"So long as you know that…"
"I do," Erik said tiredly, fed up of Piers thinking he was nothing but wrong.
"Good."
Crossing his arms across his chest, Erik left it several moments and then replied childishly to get the final word in. "Fine."
"Erik," Christine called from the entrance hall as she opened the front door. "Xavier's here."
Joining her quickly in the hall, he kissed her forehead chastely and gave her a hug. "Thank you, my love. It'll be fine, you know," he said, reassuring her for the hundredth time that day. "Nobody will put any blame on you."
"I do… I just feel like, if I say the wrong thing, you could be kept away from me."
"Darling," he said, mock-reprimanding her, "that is what Xavier is here for. This is not something you should be worrying over."
"But I do…"
"I know… you are a very sensitive soul."
"I don't believe you," Christine said, highly amused. "You were never that small, Angel."
"I was that small. I was not born towering over six feet. Mother would have had an interesting pregnancy if I were, considering that she, herself, is not that tall."
"Is, Angel?" she asked curiously. "Considering that she is not that tall?"
Gesturing vaguely with his hands in agitation, he narrowed his eyes at her and growled, "Is… was… what does it matter, hmm? I am not perfect, you know. Being human, I do occasionally make mistakes."
She moved closer to him and hugged him fiercely to try to make him see that she would never mean to harm him. "I'm sorry… I… it's just that you don't talk about her much, and I don't want to upset you, so I don't ask… but I'm curious about your family. I want to know what relatives you have left…"
Feeling bad for having thought that of her, he hugged her back and made sure that when he spoke to her again, his voice was much softer than before. "You are curious about my family?" he asked and she nodded against his shoulder. "Then you need look no further than yourself. You are the only family I lay claim to, my dear."
Recognising that he had put a stop to the direction of the conversation, she nodded again and turned her attention back to the book he was holding. It was just a regular leather-bound scrapbook – what made it special to Christine was that it had belonged to Erik as a child. When she'd expressed an interest in his childhood, he'd briefly disappeared into the attic and had retrieved a large chest that he had kept since then. The first thing he'd shown her was the scrapbook – which he'd made himself and with no interest or help from his mother. Inside the scrapbook, he had a lot of drawings he'd done and compositions he'd noted down and many little things that he'd both forgotten about and wished not to remember again because of the painful memories that surfaced from that period in his life. And there was a page at the back, which consisted of several pieces of paper he'd stuck together lengthwise so that he had a length of paper taller than he had been at that age. He had used it in much the same way as other children's parents used a doorpost, to mark his height as he was growing.
"Why did you do it yourself?" Christine asked eventually.
"Mother wasn't very interested, you understand. If I wanted to do it at all, then I had to do it myself. I was only curious, you see… I didn't really know any grown men and I didn't know if I would be small my whole life or if I would one day be the height of Mother. It was stupid, I know," he sighed and shook his head at how ridiculous it had been as he put the book back in the chest.
"It wasn't stupid," Christine said softly, stroking her fingers through his hair in comfort as she felt sentimental over her Angel. She would have loved to have seen him as a child… it was something she just couldn't conjure an image of. "I just can't imagine you that… little."
"Then I shall have to convince you," he laughed, and pulled her down the stairs with him, towards the back room. "But first, we are going to see how you've grown." And he opened the door, pulling her through and placing her with her back against the doorpost. Before she'd had a chance to say anything, he'd drawn a line across the top of her head, and, moving her to the side gently, he wrote below it that her age was now seventeen. Then they both stood back and looked sentimentally at all the other markings on the post, right from the age of four.
"In the grand scheme of things, it should be insignificant… but it means a lot, doesn't it?" she said curiously, taking his hand as they stood side-by-side.
"It means the world," he agreed. And eventually, they were able to draw themselves away from the little room and back upstairs, where the chest was. "Now, I promised you that I would prove it… so here you go." And, sitting on the floor in front of the chest, he handed her a small, neatly folded bundle, covered in fabric.
Looking him in the eyes, she waited until he nodded his head in permission and then she unfolded the little bundle cautiously and uncovered a small suit. "These were your clothes?" she asked, fingering the miniature suit reverently, a wistful smile upon her face. "These were yours?"
"Yes, my love, those were mine."
"You actually wore them?" she asked then, though she knew it was a stupid question.
"Yes, Christine, I wore them when I was a child. Now, does that not prove to you that I was once quite little?" he asked, amused that she was so amazed by his much smaller stature as a child.
"Oh, oh, Erik…" she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. He couldn't understand why there were tears in her eyes. "Oh, Erik, you were adorable."
"Adorable?" he asked, screwing his nose up. "Me?"
"Oh, Angel… you were so cute and childlike."
"I was a child," he said, confused to no end that she was so enthralled with his old clothes. He had expected her to look at them, realise that he had indeed been that little, and then hand them back without reaction. But here she was… getting truly emotional. "Are you alright?" he asked, a bit worried.
"Yes… I'm fine, Angel. I just… I get sentimental sometimes."
"I can see that," he murmured, and he drew the dear girl into his arms, hugging her while she hugged his childhood possessions. To him, they had been mere clothes – a nice suit, yes… but one that he had long since grown out of – and to her they were something else… something of a higher level of importance. Effectively, she had just added a new value for him onto his old possessions. He suddenly cared that they remain preserved for her sake. "I love the way you react to the smallest of things, Christine," he told her. "You are a truly sensitive soul."
"Christine?" Erik called from the bottom of the stairs. She'd disappeared upstairs soon after they'd sorted everything out with Xavier and Piers and he'd wanted to give her some time to herself because he knew she was upset. The two other men were still sitting in the living room, talking, and Erik had gotten fed up of all the waiting, wanting instead to find his beautiful angel and spend some quiet time with her. "Christine," he called again, moving swiftly up the stairs to look for her and the comfort she alone could offer.
And, a couple of minutes later, he was still stumped over where she could be as he'd looked in every room in the house – he'd even checked the front and back gardens – though he'd been unable to locate her, which unsettled him to no end. He liked to be sure of her location every second of every day, which might have seemed controlling to some… but, to him, it was a necessity as he wouldn't be able to function if he couldn't protect her. And protecting her meant constantly knowing where she was. He already knew he was going to find it difficult being without her for a while… adding extra time to his punishment did nothing for his fragile mood.
"Sweetheart," he called out, having not yet found her anywhere.
"I'm in here, Angel," he heard her call to him softly, and he moved towards her voice, going into his bedroom. But she was not immediately apparent to him and he had to think for a moment before he lowered himself to the floor and looked under his bed.
"What are you doing?" he asked quietly, seeing her lying there, staring up at the underside of the bed.
Without looking over, she sighed and shook her head. "I'm hiding."
"You are going to breathe in dust," he pointed out, though he crawled under the bed with her and took her hand in his, letting them lie on the floor between them.
"Only if I breathe at all…"
"Oh, darling," he murmured, hating what this had done to her. "I love you," he whispered eventually.
Not long after, while they lay in silence, the doorbell unceremoniously rang and both of them knew immediately who it would be. So they turned their heads to face each other and they shared a look no other could interpret, moving closer together, whether consciously or not. "Whatever happens," Christine whispered, "you will always have me."
Laughing to hide his terrible worry, he tried desperately to present her with a believable smile… and failed miserably. "When I am sharing a cell with a toothless, bald-headed thug who enjoys staring at me, then you can tell me that again."
"Angel… just think of me and how I love you… I will be waiting for you when you return."
"Of course I'll think of you… as if I have any choice in the matter. You are always on my mind in some way or another." Pressing a light kiss against her lips, he looked at her beautiful face one final time and then helped her out from under the bed. "Here we go…"
© Copyright of CrawfordsBiscuits, October 2006
I was quite surprised to realise just now that we're pretty near the end of this one, you know... that's kind of sad. There's several chapters left and everything... maybe even ten, but... I don't know...
Please leave a review…