Requested on tumblr: "Write some Eristine with a Hugh Panaro-inspired Erik :3"
Since I knew who made the request, I also made them pick a number to select a prompt, which was: "Our muses discuss their love lives while very drunk."
I hope my Hugh!Erik is ok! ':)
"Some more wine, my dear?"
Christine giggled as Erik filled her glass once again. "I probably shouldn't…"
"Treat yourself." His lips curved into a smirk. "This is your night, after all."
She sipped her drink. "There's not anything to celebrate, really."
"Nonsense. Tonight was your tenth performance in Hannibal. I'd say that merits a drink or two." He filled his own glass, taking a long swig.
"You just like to drink." She sat up a little straighter on his couch, scooting closer. "But you're a good friend. Raoul and I don't celebrate anything."
"Is that so? He's terribly dull." He kept his eyes focused on his own glass, trying not to look at her.
"Mhm." She rested her head on his shoulder, not noticing how he tensed beneath her. "He's… he's very serious sometimes. He wants me to give up performing, you know. Sometimes he's just… he's more focused on what he wants than what I want."
Christine sighed. "I thought dating my childhood sweetheart would take us back to that idyllic time but we've changed. We're all grown up now. I feel like I don't really know him and the more that I get to… the less I like him."
Erik was silent. She'd never been so close to him before, while so very relaxed. Her gentle weight was warm and comforting. Ayesha wound herself around his leg and he absently lowered his hand to stroke her. His other precious girl.
She broke the contact suddenly, sitting up. "Sorry… I really ruined the mood, didn't I?"
He chuckled. "Not at all, my dear." He took another long drink.
"What about you, Erik? Are you… seeing anyone?"
Erik barked out a short laugh. "Yes, women are just lining up for me outside the opera."
"Erik, be serious."
He finally turned his head to look at her, finding her face closer than he expected. He swallowed, finding his mouth suddenly dry.
"Ah- no. I'm not seeing anyone."
"Oh…"
His eyes flicked down to her lips, his thoughts venturing into dangerous territory.
Christine giggled. "You look so serious. What are you thinking about?"
"I am thinking… about kissing you. But you are so very drunk…"
"Not as drunk as you." She stuck her tongue out at him.
"Don't tease me. I may bite that pretty tongue of yours."
She leaned closer to him, their noses brushing. His breath caught in throat. The glass in his hand slipped from his nerveless fingers. The wine would likely stain the rug but that hardly mattered when Christine was so close to him, her warm breath on his lips and her hand creeping up his thigh.
"You're drunk…" he murmured.
"So you said." She mused, closing the distance between their lips. She tasted of wine and honey and if he wasn't already inebriated, he would have happily gotten drunk on the taste of her. He lifted his hand to cradle her head.
Christine was the first to break the kiss, licking her lips nervously. "I'm sorry…"
"I'm not." He leaned in again but she placed a hand on his chest.
"You're drunk. I'm drunk. We're drunk."
He observed her for a long, quiet moment. "You're right. You ought to retire to bed, my dear."
Christine nodded, rising on wobbly legs.
Erik chuckled, rising. "I thought you said I was more drunk than you." He lifted her into his arms, carrying her bridal-style towards his guest room. Well, it was really her room, but he wasn't about to tell her that.
"You are." She pouted.
"And yet, you are the one that cannot manage the short walk down the hall."
He gently lowered her to the bed but she clung to the collar of his shirt.
"Will you sing me a lullaby?"
He nodded, gently trying to remove her hands. She gripped tighter instead. "Hold me?"
Erik nodded, climbing into the bed with her. Once she fell asleep, he could leave. He didn't want her to wake in the morning and feel as though she had betrayed the Vicomte. He was a bastard, he knew. He shouldn't have allowed her that kiss.
But for tonight, he would allow himself one quiet moment with the love of his life nestled safely in his arms. In the morning, they could return to grim reality, where she had a fiance and he had no chance with her.
Erik held her against his chest, stroking her hair while he sang her to sleep.
