The prompt was "Christine brings home a stray"


"Christine… What the hell is that."

Erik looked up from his cluttered desk over to the love of his life who was holding what appeared to be a drowned rat.

"I found a kitten swimming- well, trying to swim in the lake." She stroked the cat's head, smiling as it began to purr.

"I see. And why is it in my house?"

"I couldn't let it drown!" Why would he even ask such a thing? Who would leave a kitten to die?

"And now what will you do with it? Take it up and release it on the street to be trampled underfoot or eaten by a bigger animal? Your effort to save its life is futile, my dear."

Her innocent brown eyes grew wide. "Erik! Can't… can't we keep it? Please?"

She moved closer to him and he rose, taking several steps back. "No. Absolutely not."

Christine froze, watching him. "Are you… afraid of it?"

"No." He frowned. "Of course I'm not afraid of such a pathetic little creature." He scoffed, shaking his head. Silly child.

"Won't you hold her? She's so sweet." Christine held the little dripping cat out towards him.

"No, I will not."

"Why not?"

"These hands were not meant to touch living things."

"You touch me," she said in a small voice.

"Never without my gloves." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"If Ifetch your gloves, will you hold her?"

"Perhaps. But do dry her off first, darling. I've no wish to ruin this jacket."

Christine nodded and left with the kitten. Erik let out a shaky breath. Bless that girl, he knew she didn't understand, but she never pushed him.

When she returned, the cat was dry and looking far less miserable. He quickly snapped on his gloves, allowing her to pass the cat to him.

Now that she no longer resembled a sopping hairpiece, she was almost cute. She was a little siamese with blue eyes that looked up at him and in them he saw himself; rejected, thrown away, alone in the world.

"What is her name?" he murmured.

"She doesn't have one yet. Would you like to name her, Erik?" Christine's heart melted at the sight of him holding the little cat, stroking her head. The formidable Phantom cuddling a kitten.

"Ayesha." He cooed at her. "It means small one. And you are certainly a little one, aren't you?"

Erik doted on his new feline baby. He came home with a bed, a collar, and an assortment of treats for her. Christine knew he loved the little cat dearly but he still insisted on only petting her while wearing his gloves. He'd taken to wearing them around the house so that he was always able to hold the cat, who loved him just as much as he loved her and spent the majority of her time near him.

The gloves finally came off when he wanted to practice on his violin. He played for hours in the music room. Christine didn't bother bringing dinner to him, she knew he wouldn't eat it. When the music took him, he was oblivious to all else.

After the final note faded into silence, he collapsed into a chair, the violin slipping from limp fingers. His breaths came heavy as he came down from a high only music could provide. Something furry brushed against his hand.

He peered over the arm of the chair. Ayesha rubbed against him, purring. Slowly, he moved his fingers to stroke her back. She arched into his touch. He marveled at how comfortable she was being petted by cold, bony digits.

Ayesha leapt up into his lap, curling up as he continued to pet her. She purred away and he allowed himself a small smile. "My lovely girl."

Christine peered in, smiling at the sight. He gave her a small wave, unwilling to disturb the cat, who had closed her eyes. His little soprano crossed the room to him, taking his hand. With one hand in Christine's and the other on his little cat, he felt tears spring to his eyes. They touched him and they… didn't die.

"My other lovely girl," he murmured.

Christine gave his hand a gentle squeeze and he returned it. She was so warm in contrast to his perpetually freezing skin but she didn't seem to mind. Like sunlight, she brought warmth to everything she touched. She was truly an angel.

"I made dinner. Are you hungry?" She kept her voice soft, gentle; tender even, Erik realized. How he loved her.

"I'll be there in a moment, my dear."

She nodded and left his music room. He smiled after her, absently petting Ayesha.

The gloves never came back on.