They were halfway through a lesson in the piano room, right in the middle of a song when Erik heard the strangest sound. Surely that wasn't coming from Christine? He stopped playing abruptly, turning to look at her incredulously.
She stopped a moment after he did, concern creasing her brow. Why was he staring like that?
Suddenly the noise came again and Erik's shoulders sagged with relief. It was the sound of a dog barking just outside the door - a problem, of course, but not as bad a problem as whatever horrendous thing would have been happening to her voice to make it sound like that.
Christine quickly cracked the door open, peeking outside. It was Carlotta's little dog, one she was often seen carrying around and pampering. Normally Carlotta's maid looked after the dog, but on a number of occasions it had managed to find its way out of Carlotta's dressing room or otherwise evade whoever was supposed to be watching over it. Christine for the life of her couldn't remember what, exactly, the little dog's name was - it was some involved Italian name, and Carlotta always said it with such an affected accent that Christine could scarcely understand what she was saying, except to know that the name was several syllables long. She stooped down to grab the dog that was looking up at her expectantly, and brought it inside and locked the door once more.
Once inside, however, it continued to bark. She tried to shush it, to no avail. It finally wiggled out of her arms and began to turn in little circles on the floor.
"Take it back outside, Christine," Erik said anxiously, watching it as it continued to bark. "Someone is going to come looking for it and they'll find us."
"Erik! We can't! What if Joseph Buquet finds it? You remember what he said last week when the poor little thing ran on stage - that if he caught it again he'd cook it in a stew!"
Christine shuddered at the memory of it, how the little dog had only wanted to be near its mistress who was up on stage, unaware of how it was ruining the scene they were rehearsing, and how angry Buquet had been when it tried to bite him after he had attempted to shove it offstage, inciting Carlotta's wrath.
"I highly doubt the man is going to turn the beast into a soup," he waved a hand dismissively. "Let it find it's own way back to Carlotta."
Christine ignored him, much to his dismay. She sat down on the ground, petting the little dog with both hands.
"The poor little lost dear," she crooned, reverting back to her native Swedish.
"Don't you want to finish your lesson, Christine?" he tried.
The dog turned and licked at her hands, and she cooed delightedly.
Erik sighed. He knew when he was beaten.
The creature suddenly turned its beady eyes towards him, realizing that Christine was not the only person in the room. It wriggled from her grasp yet again and trotted up to Erik, barking.
"Do you like dogs, Erik?" the words were out before she even realized that she had asked them.
"I do not not like dogs," he answered, reaching down to give the thing a pat on the head since it seemed so intent on gaining his attention.
It jerked its head back, growling a little at his cold touch, but then changing its mind once again, sniffing at his hand and deciding to lick him.
"Ohh," she placed her hands over her heart. "It likes you!"
He grabbed it, and it struggled to get away but he placed it on his lap and once his cold, bony fingers weren't inadvertently digging into it anymore, it calmed.
"I must admit, this creature is not altogether terrible... Perhaps I will keep it," he gave it a scratch behind its ear, and its tail wagged wildly.
"Carlotta will know it's missing."
He shrugged.
"We can blame it on Buquet. Tell her that he really did eat it, after all."
"Erik! No! That's terrible," she put her hands over mouth, scandalized, but then dropped them to her lap and his heart skipped a beat to see the smile that was on her face.
It was the first smile she had given him since he was no longer an angel.
"Imagine it, Christine - the great Carlotta's little dog, spirited away by the Opera Ghost himself. It would only be a fitting punishment, you know."
"It would bark at all hours," she said, scooting closer until she was on her knees next to the piano bench where he sat. "You would scarcely get any work done."
As if to confirm her accusations, it barked.
"But look how much it likes me - it's probably glad to be free of Carlotta. All those barks are probably it saying 'thank you for saving me from that awful squawking woman'."
She giggled, and Erik knew he had never heard a sweeter sound.
"She'll look for it, it's like her baby - she won't rest until she finds it," she gently petted the little dog in Erik's lap.
"Well she won't look for it if she thinks Joseph ate it," he scoffed.
"Joseph would deny he ever did such a thing."
Erik raised an eyebrow.
"And doesn't that sound exactly like what someone would say after they stole and cooked a precious pooch?"
She giggled again and shook her head disapprovingly, but she couldn't hide the mirth in her eyes. Erik sighed, putting on an air of weariness.
"I suppose we will have to return it to its rightful - if truly awful - owner. You have worn me down, Christine."
They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, only the snuffling noises from the little dog making any sound in the room.
"I'm quite fond of dogs, actually," Erik said quietly.
Christine looked up, surprised.
"Oh?"
He nodded.
"A dog will never treat you poorly because of your face."
Her heart twisted at his words. Poor Erik. It pained her to think of the kind of life he had known, all because of people's ignorance and superstition.
She stood up from the floor and sat next to him on the piano bench.
"Why don't you get a dog, then?" she offered gently. "Unless you already have one?"
"No," he shook his head. "That wouldn't be terribly realistic. I'm not the type to keep a pet... My home is simply not set up for it. No fresh air or sunlight... An animal couldn't live like that."
Her brow furrowed as she listened.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
He froze, realizing what all he had said.
"Where- where do you live?" she asked again.
He didn't meet her eye, keeping his gaze fixed on the dog that was content to lounge across his knees.
"I live in the opera house," he said simply.
She nodded, pushing a stray curl behind her ear.
"But... Is there no window that sunlight comes through? Do you live more towards the middle of the building, where there are no windows?"
He hesitated.
"I live underneath the cellars, Christine."
She was quiet a moment. Underneath the cellars?
"I didn't know there was anything underneath the cellars," she finally said.
"Most people don't - that's why I live there."
"Oh."
She felt terrible. He had mentioned things before, things to the effect of letting her know that he lived on the premises, but for some reason she had always assumed that he lived upstairs, perhaps near the managers offices or the like. A nice room with a big window, well furnished. Something nice. But this? Am animal couldn't live like that. But what about a man? Could a man really live like that?
She bit her lip. As sad as it made her to hear the truth about how dismally he lived, she was quite touched that he trusted her enough to tell her, and she was thankful that they were finally talking.
"Don't you miss the sunlight?" she asked in a weak voice.
He smiled grimly.
"I was not made for the sunlight, Christine."
It hurt to hear him talk so. He should be allowed to be a man like any other, not made to feel as though he didn't belong up above in the world because of his terrible face. It was so unfair.
He gathered up the nearly sleeping dog and extended it to Christine, suddenly changing the subject.
"Now, do wish to return this beast to its proper location?"
She took the dog from him and stood up, cradling it to her chest. Her melancholy was chased away as the dog awoke and began to lick her chin.
"I'll take it back to Carlotta before she comes looking for it," she started for the door, but stopped just before leaving.
"Erik?"
"Yes, Christine?"
"I missed this," she said simply, softly, a ghost of a smile playing across her lips. "Thank you."
He nodded slowly.
"I missed this, too."
The smile bloomed across her face at his admission like a rose in the sunlight.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Erik."
"Until then, Christine."