Mini fic pairing/prompt: #7 - things you said while we were driving (E/C, a modern take on "The Mysterious Brougham" from Leroux)
Christine rested her head against the car door and rolled down the window to breathe in the night air, smog and all. It was the closest she could get to freedom when Erik "requested" her presence at his penthouse for days or weeks at a time.
She had asked if they could go for a drive and he had agreed, seemingly pleased that she would seek out his company in such close quarters - had even smiled, as far as she could tell by the way his amber eyes had crinkled behind the mask. Her hopes of secretly passing a note to César for Raoul had dimmed when Erik had slipped behind the wheel of the jet-black sedan himself.
"Wouldn't you rather close the window?"
His words were tense, his knuckles white as he clutched the gearshift and stared forward at the red light. Christine wasn't sure why his mood had soured so quickly until she spotted a familiar figure on the opposite corner - waving wildly and calling her name. She gasped as Raoul nearly ran out into traffic, stumbling back when a cab sped by in a honking blur of yellow.
"Christine."
Normally when Erik said her name, it was with a reverence bordering on blasphemy, but she knew this tone just as well - an unmistakable warning, a dark cloud gathering above their heads. After a final moment's hesitation, she flicked the switch and the tinted glass slid up to dampen the sight and sound of the outside world. It was only the two of them again, alone in a city of millions.