"Would you like to go out on Friday?"
Erik forced himself to spit the words out before he procrastinated for another eight hours. They were standing by Christine's car getting ready to leave, and it was only at this very last second he managed to scrape up the courage needed.
All day, he had agonized over when and how to ask her. It made absolutely no sense. They were already dating, right? But he had never actually asked a woman out before. And even though she had made it abundantly clear she returned his interest, he was still nervous. He kept waiting for her to change her mind, take this away from him.
But from the happy grin she gave him, she didn't appear to plan on doing that just yet. "Of course, I'd love to!" The relief was visible on his face and she stifled a giggle. He was so thoroughly adorable. "What did you have in mind?"
Erik's ideal date was the exact one they already had. Just the two of them, inside talking and laughing and…other stuff. If he had been certain she felt the same way, that's exactly what he would have proposed. But he knew Christine. She loved to try new things, and she got bored easily.
"A movie?" It wasn't the most adventurous option, he knew. But it was a start. If he had to be in public, he would much rather do so in a quiet dark room where no one talked to him. "Unless there's something you'd like to do…"
She took his hand and kissed the back of it. An action he had done to her many times, but that Erik now realized no one had ever done to him. It was an action of pure affection and endearment and it nearly knocked the wind from his lungs.
"A movie sounds wonderful," she assured him, holding his hand and stroking it fondly.
"Ok…" he replied weakly, eyes fixed upon where she touched him.
Christine noticed the longing look in his eyes and smiled. Since the start of their relationship, she had been torn between feeling pleased at his reactions to her, and feeling sad for him. From what little she had been able to piece together about his past, she knew he had received very little affection in his life. It made her heart ache. But at times like these, when all she did was kiss his hand and he looked at her like she was the most amazing thing on earth, she couldn't help but feel a guilty twinge of pride.
And with it, a determination to make up for each and every day he had not received the love he deserved.
She kissed his hand again, slowly. He responded with a deep inhale. Her lips traveled across his knuckles, then she turned his hand over and brought it up to kiss the inside of his wrist. His eyes slid shut and his thumb caressed her cheek. How profound they were, his reactions to these innocent little ministrations.
Then she took a half step down from innocent. Dragging her mouth up his wrist, she latched on to the edge of his palm just below his thumb. She watched his face as she sucked there, rolling her tongue across his skin. Erik's eyes shot wide open.
One cautious glance around told him the garage was empty. Then he turned back to her, eyes dark. What a terrible little devil. She certainly was not going to make this whole 'going slow' thing easier. He stepped closer, not quite pressing against her.
"Christine…"
A quiet moan was her response. Her mouth traveled up the rest of his palm until it reached the pads of his fingers.
Another scan of the garage. The feeling of her mouth exploring his skin sent a surge of boldness through him. And with it, caution. He pushed her back against the car and gently took his hand away from her.
"Christine…" he growled near her ear. "This is dangerous."
She wasn't sure if he meant their surroundings, or the way she was teasing him. He wasn't sure himself.
She had meant it when she said she wanted to go slow. But everything about him, his voice, his body, the way he looked at her…it was all so irresistible. Selfishness drove her to indulge in as much of him as her conscience would allow. That same conscience told her it wasn't fair to him.
"You're right," she sighed. She decided to pretend he was referring to their surroundings to avoid an awkward conversation. "Perhaps I'll save it for the movie."
His chuckle was soft and deep. "You do that…"
Was it her imagination, or did this particular sweater hug Erik's form a little tighter than his other clothes?
They were standing in the lobby of the theatre, trying to decide which movie to see. Erik's eyes were fixed on the board as he bit his lip thoughtfully. She was holding his hand and not paying attention to the movie options at all because she could have swore his usual attire didn't outline his shoulders so well.
She couldn't help but think back to the one time she had seen him shirtless. The soft lines of his muscles. Sharp collarbone and porcelain skin. The thin trail of hair on his stomach that disappeared beneath his waistband…
"How about Star Wars?"
Christine's head snapped up. Erik was looking at her. "Sure!" She answered quickly, cheeks red.
His eyes narrowed skeptically. "You sure? You're not just agreeing cause you're tired of trying to decide are you?"
She laughed. "I'm not, swear. I like Star Wars."
He smiled and squeezed her hand. "Star Wars it is."
Erik paid for their tickets and a popcorn he wasn't planning on consuming, but knew she would probably make him try anyway. They chose a seat in the back. Christine began munching on her popcorn while the previews were still playing. He watched her with a soft smile.
"Shouldn't you save it for the movie?" He teased.
She rolled her eyes. "That requires a level of self control I can never hope to achieve."
He chuckled at her dramatic answer. Then just as he suspected would happen, she was holding the bag out to him. He accepted a small handful and she gave a happy little hum. The brief pain in his face was worth it.
For the first ten minutes of the movie they both stared blankly at the screen, not absorbing a single thing. Erik was cursing himself for making yet another terrible decision. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to look in her beautiful eyes and hang off every word uttered by her beautiful lips. And he had chosen a place that required silence, and staring at something that was not her. Idiot.
He was considering what valid excuses he could conjure for leaving, when something touched his knee. Part of him knew immediately what it was. The other part insisted that could not be. Then the something began to climb up his thigh and even his skeptical half had to acknowledge that it was in fact, Christine's hand. He looked to where her delicate fingers were moving gently up and down his leg.
At first, he didn't look at her. He told himself to just stay cool, don't overreact. She was allowed to casually touch him, and should feel free to do so without him acting a fool. As much as the action stoked a desire to take her face in his hands and kiss her until he couldn't breathe, he resisted. Act natural. Act. Natural.
She squeezed his thigh.
He barely managed to cut off his sharp inhale before it became a gasp. First he glanced at her without moving his head. She was staring at him. He faced her.
Red and blue lights were flashing across the screen and the way they reflected off her eyes was mesmerizing. The outlining darkness cast shadows across her face, making the sharp planes of her cheeks stand out. She was gorgeous.
Instead of expressing this in words he leaned in and kissed her cheek. The hand on his thigh and intensity of her gaze gave him reasonable confidence that the action was welcome. He mentally checked off all the places he'd kissed and decided to explore the ones he hadn't. Her lips, of course. Her cheek was new. He'd kissed her nose, but he did it again anyway. Then her other cheek. Her forehead. Her eyes slid shut and she was smiling.
His lips finally reached hers and she responded with a sigh. She had come to enjoy the feeling of cool porcelain on her skin. The edge above his lip occasionally got in the way but she tried to not let it bother her. It made things interesting. Like a little obstacle that she could find new ways to work around.
An explosion on screen sent vibrations through the floor. Neither of them looked up. The thrilling space saga they had come to see had suddenly lost every ounce of its intrigue. Erik's hand slid down the side of her neck to caress her shoulder, then traveled down the length of her arm. She had moved in her seat so her whole body faced him. His hand found her hip and squeezed. Perhaps this was an acceptable alternative to talking to her.
Time felt like molasses and quicksand simultaneously. No matter how much they savored, it went by too fast. Yet every second lost was replaced by another, just as delicious.
When her mouth moved to his neck he faintly registered the sound of the movie echoing around them. Something about sacred texts. Some old man, complaining…
Then she licked him and his brain ground to an immediate halt. The hand on her hip tightened, desperate to draw her closer but stopped by the infernal arm rest between them. He didn't hear her laugh, but felt the telling breath that chilled the skin her tongue had just explored. Then she did it again.
He took several deep breaths, knowing he was going to have a problem very soon if she did not stop. He debated on whether he should change direction and distract her, or perhaps gently bring them to a stop altogether. The latter was certainly not ideal. Yet he wasn't sure how to go about the former. Perhaps he could simply copy her and provide a taste of her own medicine…
Fortunately the decision was made for him when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Erik looked up, causing Christine to remove her mouth from his neck. In front of them was a red faced theater employee, staring at the ground.
"Um…sorry…" he whispered, voice shaking just slightly. "But could you guys maybe, um…t-turn it down a bit?" He wrung his hands. "We've just gotten some complaints, is all, and there's kids here…"
Christine was immediately horrified. She covered her mouth and turned away, face even more red than the poor employee's. Erik, on the other hand, cast an irritated glance to either side of them. They were in the very back, and no one else was in their row.
"Who the hell is craning their nosy neck around to gawk?" He whispered harshly.
The employee's face fell. "I-I don't know, sorry. I'm just doing as I was asked, um-"
Christine grabbed Erik's forearm. "Erik don't, it's fine." She looked at the flustered teenager before them. "We're sorry, we'll stop."
He nodded thankfully and made a hasty exit. Erik crossed his arms with a frown. Christine smiled and rolled her eyes. She leaned up to whisper in his ear.
"Come now, it's not that bad. When we get out of here we can pick up right where we left off."
That earned her a deep chuckle. "I know. I'm just annoyed that someone was poking their nose where it doesn't belong."
She shrugged good-humoredly. "Probably just some Karen, ignore them."
He looked at her quizzically. "Karen?"
She laughed and patted his arm. "I'll explain later.
After the movie, Erik and Christine walked hand in hand through the streets of downtown. Christine was on the hunt for a snack, and Erik was listening as she finished explaining what a Karen was.
She was in the middle of explaining the concept of a boomer as a result of her Karen discourse, when she saw the advertisement for waffle fries. Erik was listening with rapt attention when she interrupted herself, letting out a high pitched, 'ooohhh!' He followed her pointing finger across the street. A bar by the name of Kramer's was professing to have the best waffle fries in town.
"Can we stop there?" She asked with a squeeze of his hand. "I'm a bit hungry."
"Of course," he replied. He found it humorous that she felt the need to ask. As if he wouldn't do absolutely anything she asked. He also found it humorous that she was still hungry after all that popcorn.
Kramer's was small, but thankfully not crowded, despite the waning daylight. Erik wondered if the sparse patronage spoke to the true quality of these supposedly famous waffle fries. They sat in a booth in the corner. Christine did not share his reservations in the slightest and immediately ordered a basket of them, along with an apple martini.
"Do you want anything?" She asked, peeking at him over her menu.
"I'm good."
The waiter nodded and stepped to leave, then stopped as Christine spoke again.
"Are you sure? I'll share my fries but not my drink."
Erik chuckled. He did want a drink. Perhaps one wouldn't hurt.
"Do you have cherry Smirnoff?" He asked the waiter.
"Yes sir!" He wrote it down. "Anything else?"
They both shook their heads and the waiter disappeared into the kitchen. Erik looked at Christine to find her already staring at him, chin resting in her palms. He cocked his head with a smile.
"Did you like the movie?" She asked.
"Yes. Did you?" He felt her foot rub against his calf.
"Mhm. What was your favorite part?"
"Hmm…" he gave it a few seconds thought before a mischievous smile touched his lips. "Probably that part in the middle. Right before that kid interrupted."
She grinned. "What a coincidence, that was my favorite too."
They laughed together. Erik watched the way her eyes lit up and his heart swelled.
Their eyes met and they slowly fell into a comfortable silence. Their soft and steady gaze reminded Erik of their stolen time so long ago, when they needed a barrier before they could indulge in such behavior. Now they watched each other, unabashed and enamored, without the slightest hesitation. Each second that passed added another drop of joy to his already bursting heart.
The waiter returned with their drinks and Christine's fries, breaking their brief spell. She took one sip of her martini and grimaced.
"No good?" Erik asked.
She shrugged with a little hum. "Not really…" she eyed his Smirnoff. He had only taken one drink. "Can I try yours?"
He smiled and slid it over to her. She took a little sip and her expression changed entirely. "You have good taste."
"True."
She laughed and went to hand it back to him. He shook his head. "Keep that one. I'll order another."
She pushed the martini over to him. "Try this."
"I thought it wasn't good?"
"It's not. Suffer with me."
Erik laughed and accepted the drink. The moment it touched his lips he made the same grimace she had. "That is…terrible."
"I know!" She leaned forward with a mischievous smile. "I think we should both get another Smirnoff to make up for it."
He laughed again. "I think you're right."
Erik had never been a lightweight. Years of drowning misery saw to that. But something felt different tonight, and he didn't fully realize it until his fourth drink. Perhaps it was the fact that his stomach was empty aside for a few pieces of popcorn. Or, more likely, it was the gorgeous women in front of him who kept encouraging him to have one more, and the impossibility of saying no to her.
Christine was simply a lightweight. Which, in retrospect, he should have remembered from their previous escapade. But four- or was it five?- flavored vodkas had a way of fogging the memory.
"I'm gonna be SO fat!" Christine declared as she dug into her second basket of fries. "I will just, roll!"
Erik snorted and leaned his cheek against his palm. "That'll be lovely, think of how quickly you can move around."
"Buuuut," she pointed an accusatory finger at him, "You'll break up with me. You won't want me when I'm fat will you? I knew it. You men. So shallow. You disgust me."
He gave an offended gasp. "I am not! I won't break up with you when you're fat I'll just…I'll be your roller. I'll roll you. Or maybe I'll get fat too we can both roll." He tapped his temple as if to indicate the genius of his plan.
Christin grinned from ear to ear. "Awwwww baby you'd do that for me?"
Even drunk, hearing her call him 'baby' for the first time sent a thrill straight to his core. "Of course," he croaked.
"Awwwww," she cooed again.
At that moment the waiter returned with their sixth- or was it seventh?- round. Erik had forgotten they ordered more.
"Sam!" Christine greeted him brightly. "Sam my friend hello! Thank you! Thank you for this alcohol!" She grabbed the bottle and held it up.
Sam chuckled. "You're very welcome Christine."
"Have you met my boyfriend? My boyfriend Erik?" She pointed to the masked man across from her. Sam nodded.
"Yes I believe you introduced us the last time I was here. And the time before that."
Christine's face suddenly grew serious and she leaned forward, shielding her mouth with her hand as she whispered, "It's a secret Sam. Don't tell anyone. I'm his boss we'll get in trouble."
"My lips are sealed."
"But look at him he's so cute how can I resist something so cute!?"
"Christine…" Erik grumbled, cheeks turning red.
Sam barely contained a snort. "Of course, yes, he's very cute."
"He is! And I think we probably need another drink soon Sam can we get another one please?"
He shook his head. "Afraid not. Boss says this is your last round."
Christine let out a dramatic cry and flopped against the bench. "Sam! You betrayed me Sam."
He shrugged in a helpless gesture. "You'll be alright hun."
Sam set the tab on the table and left to attend his other patrons. Erik picked it up, blinked a few times until the numbers stopped swirling, then chuckled.
"We certainly got carried away,' he started. Then looked up to find Christine gone. He looked around the tiny bar. There was nowhere for her to go. "Christine?"
A hushed snicker came from beneath the table. Erik poked his head underneath to find Christine, crouching amongst discarded bottle caps and straw wrappers.
"What are you doing?" He asked through a laugh.
"I'm coming to visit youuu," she sang, crawling forward. She waddled on her tip toes, head bent as what was surely a painful angle. Her face popped up between his legs and he snorted.
"You are an absolute-"
The words were cut off as she reached up and braced both her hands on his upper thighs. Fire sparked there and traveled north.
"…dork," he finished weakly.
Christine hummed through a laugh and began wriggling out from under the table, pushing against his thighs. She was about a quarter of the way out when she slipped, her face landing on his stomach. They both laughed, Christine out of genuine amusement and Erik out of a nervous attempt at self control. She took her time recovering, looking at him as she slowly dragged herself up.
"What are you thinking about?" She whispered as her face came level with his. She managed to finish her climb and straddled him, knees on either side of his hips. The space between the booth was not quite big enough, so she was halfway sitting on the table.
His Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Nothing."
She leaned forward and nipped his ear. "Liar."
They needed to leave. This space was far too small and the room was far too crowded and the air was far too hot and his jeans were suddenly far too restrictive and he wasn't entirely sure what would happen once they got out but all he knew was that they needed to leave. Now.
The climb out of the booth was a mess of limbs and giggles. Christine managed to slide off of him and bumped against the wall inside the booth. Erik chuckled and tugged her back up. A brief struggle of searching through his pockets managed to produce his debit card and he settled their tab.
"How are we gonna get home?" Christine asked, wide eyed. "You're too drunk to drive. And I don't know how to work your car."
Erik gave a sharp laugh. "No, you're too drunk to drive. I also am drunk too yes."
She snorted and leaned against him as they walked outside. "What time is it?"
"Night."
"We need a ride."
"Yes."
"Oh! Oh!" She dug her phone from her pocket. "I know who to call for rides. Who I always call for rides."
They stopped right outside the bar and leaned against the wall.
"Who are you gonna call?"
She was furiously tapping her screen. "My good friend James."
"Nooooo, silly," Erik tilted his head and ran a finger down her lips. "The correct answer is Ghost Busters."
Christine practically guffawed and slapped his chest. Her phone was now ringing on speaker.
"You're so funny, you cutie."
"Miss. Daae?" Came a groggy voice on the other end of the line. Christine gasped.
"James! My friend! I'm so glad to hear your voice."
"Is everything alright? It's nearly one in the morning…"
"Oh yes I'm fiiiine, James. Thank you. And I'm sorry, I wasn't calling you a funny cutie just now. I mean, you can be funny. And I'm not saying you're ugly not at all, but at this particular time I was not actually-"
"Miss. Daae. What's going on? Are you sure you're alright?"
"Oh she's ok James," Erik chimed in. "I'm here with her that's my job remember? Keep her ok. And she's ok. Are you ok darling?"
"Oh yes darling thank you," Christine said sweetly, placing a hand on his cheek.
"…are you both drunk?"
Two loud snorts in unison confirmed his inquiry. James let out a long sigh.
"Where are you?"
"Outside Kramers," Christine informed him. "Would you be willing to come get us, pretty please James? I'll give you a raise. You deserve it anyway."
Another long sigh. "I wish I could hold you to that once you sober up. Don't move. I'll be there shortly."
He hung up. Christine looked to Erik with a grin. "I think he was happy I called."
Seat belts were apparently not in the realm of possibility, no matter how many times James insisted. He couldn't do much other than shout at them, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. Erik and Christine simply could not decide who wanted to sit on what side of the car.
"Maybe I should just sit in your lap," Christine finally suggested.
"Ooh, wonderful idea," Erik agreed. James rolled his eyes.
"Where exactly am I taking you two love birds?"
"Weellll," Christine drawled as she crawled into Erik's lap, "My car is at Erik's. And Erik lives at Erik's. So Erik's it is."
"And does Erik remember his address?"
Erik nodded. "I do! It's the big one on Washington."
"I'm afraid I'm going to need something more specific."
"The big gray one."
James sighed. "The big gray one it is." Not bothering to enter such limited information in the GPS, James turned towards where he hoped Washington was.
Christine wriggled in Erik's lap, turning to face him. "You wanna know a secret?" She whispered loudly.
"Absolutely I do."
"I really wanna make out with you right now."
James grimaced. Erik gave a tiny gasp.
"That's crazy cause I was just thinking I wanted to make out with you!"
"Oh my god baby we're so in sync!"
"No," James interjected firmly, "There will be no making out in my car."
"Ummm, excuse me sir," Christine stumbled off Erik's lap and leaned forward to glare at James. "This car is the property of Daae Enterprises, remember? So if this is anyone's car it's mine, and I say we can make out here."
Erik barked a scornful laugh in James' direction.
"Look again Miss. Daae," James responded with a sigh. "The Daae car is safe and sound in the garage. This is my car."
Christine slowly blinked as she leaned backwards, reevaluating her surroundings. "Oh damn…you're right…" She plopped back down next to Erik with a sigh. "Sorry baby we can't make out James says no."
"Damn it James!"
The driver accepted his berating with a patient frown. Christine giggled and grabbed Erik's face in her hands.
"You're so cute," she cooed.
"Thank you you too."
"And you get so mad."
"I do, I have an anger problem."
"And you get all cute and growly."
"I suppose."
"You're like a little tiger. My little baby tiger."
Erik chuckled. "Whatever you say love."
James turned the radio up. He was fairly certain he was going to be sick.
Somehow, James managed to find the big gray one. Erik and Christine succeeded in getting inside the building in one piece. After waving to an impatient James that they finally managed to get the door unlocked, they stumbled in with a chorus of giggles. Fortunately Erik's building had a secluded rear entrance where they could avoid the eyes of the front desk staff. Less fortunately, it took them several minutes to remember how elevators worked.
"What floor are you on?" Christine asked intently, staring hard at the buttons as she leaned her hands on either side of the panel.
"Guess," Erik whispered.
"Fifty seven!?"
"There's not even fifty seven floors."
"Twenty five?"
"No. Eight."
"I knew it. That was my next guess."
She jammed the button with an unnecessary amount of force. They entertained themselves during the one minute ride by examining each other's hands.
When they reached his floor, they both simultaneously decided it imperative to run down the hall. Erik beat her to his door with a huge grin.
"I won!" He shouted.
Christine put a finger to her lips. "Sssshhhhh!" She hissed.
"I won," he said again, this time a tiny whisper.
"Only cause I let you!"
"Whatever makes you feel better loser."
She laughed and smacked him as he unlocked his door. Inside, he didn't bother with the light switch. He knew every inch of the space and Christine could hold his hand and he was faintly certain that bright lights would be a nuisance to both their eyes.
"I suppose you'll have to stay here," He said through a yawn as he led her through the living room.
"Yes sir."
"Are you tired?"
"Yes. Are you?"
"Maybe a little…"
"Sounds like a lot to me."
He chuckled but otherwise ignored the comment as they reached his bedroom. He was grateful Christine did not request the lights, for they would have revealed the laundry piled in the corner and the disorganized mess of his nightstand. What she did request, was a shirt.
"I definitely can't sleep in jeans," she complained, wiggling her hips to illustrate. He felt, rather than saw, the action.
"Right, of course," he yawned again and found his dresser in the darkness, producing a t shirt and sweat pants. He handed them to her. "Bathroom's right over there," he pointed to a door at the other end of his room. "If you need anything I can…"
He trailed off as Christine set the clothes back on his dresser and promptly removed her shirt.
"Ah…aha…"
Her jeans followed, hitting the floor with a soft thud. Erik could see better than most people in the dark. And yet, at the moment, he felt he couldn't see quite good enough. A prick in his conscience tried to beckon his eyes away. But the much louder ache in his lower belly demanded he devour as much of her as possible. Her skin was a dim glow in the darkness, beautiful and begging for his touch. Could he? His fingers twitched. She probably wouldn't mind. Perhaps just one, there on her stomach…
Christine slipped his shirt over her head and the opportunity was gone. He squeezed his hand shut, reigning in rebellious fingers. With a yawn she made her way to his bed, forgetting the sweatpants. The shirt fell just above her knees and she looked adorable.
"Can I sleep here? Thank you." She plopped down on the sheets without waiting for an answer.
Erik hummed in amusement. He took the sweatpants she had abandoned. Not quite matching her confidence, he retreated to the bathroom to change. Normally he slept in his underwear. Deciding that would be a bit forward, he opted for the sacrifice of pants. A shirt, however, he was certain he couldn't tolerate. He hoped she wouldn't mind.
Locking the door, he took off his mask and splashed cold water on his face. The mirror above his sink had long ago been removed - his face was the last thing he wanted to see first thing in the morning - but the touch of his hands remained a cruel reminder. A sobering reminder. He realized with a start that he had been planning on simply crawling into bed next to her. Her flood of care and affection this evening had almost made him forget. Forget how unworthy and repulsive he was. Forget that every second she allowed him to be in her presence was a gift, and the last thing he should do was take advantage of that.
No, he would sleep on the couch where he belonged. Besides, it was safer there. He would have to wear his mask all night tonight regardless, but if he was next to her, her curiosity was more likely to become dangerous.
He donned the sweatpants and the warm porcelain that would inevitably leave his face irritated in the morning. When he stepped back into the room his eyes settled on Christine, snuggled happily beneath the blankets. Moonlight filtered in from the window, illuminating her sleeping features. God, she was so beautiful. He indulged in a few moments of memorizing her face, as he had already done countless times. Then he headed for the door.
The moment it creaked open, a groggy voice from behind him spoke, "Erik? Where are you going?"
Christine was sitting up, frowning at him. Erik stopped, hand on the door knob. "I…uh…the couch…"
Her frown deepened. "Why? You don't want to sleep here?" She smoothed her hand over the place next to her.
"It's not that, I just uh-" he stumbled, unsure exactly what he 'just uh'. "I thought I'd let you have the bed, since you're so tired…"
She rolled her eyes with a huff. "Don't be silly. Get over here."
Reservations about her curiosity evaporated. He was too weak to refuse popcorn or a silly race competition from this woman. There was no chance of finding the strength to deny an invitation to lie next to her.
Erik meekly crawled beneath the covers like an obedient puppy. Christine snuggled next to him, laying her head on his bare chest. He put his arm around her, his breath quickening an embarrassing amount. They may have kissed many times, but this was a different level of intimacy he had yet to experience. It was still so unusual, having someone be so comfortable with him. To actually seek his touch.
Christine sensed his unease and managed to guess the reason for it even through the fog in her brain. She placed a comforting hand on his chest and stroked him softly.
"Relax," she whispered gently. "I'm here. I'm right here."
He closed his eyes and basked in her voice. Slowly, his body relaxed. He let the arm around her torso go limp, molding against her. His pulse returned to normal. And once the adrenaline of receiving affection subsided, Erik realized he had never felt so comfortable in his own bed.