Dressing robe wrapped around his bare chest, but pajama bottoms on; The Phantom stepped softly into Charlotte's room. The little girl was curled into a tight ball on a new bed, which had recently replaced the crib. She was asleep, still fully dressed; her face still red and wet from crying. His mask wrapped around arms held against her chest.
"Oh, my little darling," Erik whispered sitting down on the edge of the bed. He unbuckled her Mary Janes and placed them on the floor. When he started to pull down her socks, she stirred.
"Dada?"
"Yes, darling. You fell asleep, let's get you dressed for bed. And then I will tell you a story."
"A story?" Charlotte sat up, still not letting go of the mask. "What kind of story?"
"One about how there was once a little boy who looked just like you."
"There was?" She sat the mask down as she crawled off the bed.
"Yes, there was," Erik spoke softly as he unbuttoned her dress. "His father died before he was born. When he was born, his mother thought he was the ugliest thing she had ever seen. She and the doctor swore she had given birth to a Devil child."
"Just because he was deformed?" Charlotte's blue doe eyes widened wet with new water as she held her nightgown.
Erik caressed her malformed cheek, "Sadly yes. His mother was so ashamed, she made a mask for him before he even had proper clothing. She never let him drink from her breast, not even her milk in a bottle."
He removed her chemise and then pulled her nightgown over Charlotte's head. He raised his hands to her hair.
"No, Dada, brush it," she shuffled over to her dresser and removed her hair brush. She put the instrument in his hand, silver handle first before turning around, so her back was to him.
The Phantom chuckled to himself before he ran the bristles through the thin, fine hair.
"What happened to the boy, Dada?"
"His own mother kept him locked away when visitors called. If she ever caught him not wearing his mask, she beat him. All he ever wanted was to be loved by his own family, but that was not to be. When he was the same age as Gustave he ran away and joined the circus."
"The circus!" The girl squealed. She spun around and jumped up and down. "Dada, could he come here? Please!"
Tears were in Erik's eyes as he smiled, "That boy is already here, darling. I was that boy."
Those large eyes squinted as she tilted her head and looked at her father. She got closer to him, raised her hands to his face; fingers reading the bumps and crevices of his cheek and mouth like braille.
"Why you wear mask now then, Dada if you didn't want to then?"
He gently took the little hands into his and kissed them, "Your Mama and Dada love you just as you are. I never wanted you to feel like I did. I never wanted to make you wear a mask because I didn't want you to believe there was something wrong with you."
"But there is, Dada! Mama don't look like us. Gustave and Matilda don't! Where are others? You still didn't tell me why you wear a mask."
"Oh, you are already clever!" Erik pulled Charlotte into his arms before rolling onto the bed.
She shrieked and giggled as he covered her cheek in kisses. He paused, feeling his mask underneath. He pulled it out and held it up over them so its eye opening looked down.
"I wear the mask, Charlotte because my mother made me feel so ugly, dirty and guilty for my face. And then the circus confirmed this. You know how people pay to hear Mama sing? People paid money just to see my face and call me names because of it. I thought if you never wore a mask you would never feel ugly, dirty or guilty. I wanted to fill you with love and protect you from the mean world."
Charlotte stretched her hands up towards the mask. Erik lowered it and placed it on top of Charlotte's face. The item covered almost all her head and she laughed.
"If you want to wear a mask, we will not stop you but we will never make you wear one. You are more than my marks on your cheeks. You have your mother's beautiful eyes and her smile. You are also the light of my life."
Charlotte lifted the mask off her head and smiled, "What about you, Dada? Why don't you stop wearing mask all the time? You have pretty eyes."
The Phantom chuckled, "Maybe someday I will be that brave. But tell you what. No more mask in the house. The moment I come home I will take it off."
The little girl smiled and nodded.
"Alright. It's time for you to get back to sleep," Erik stood up and adjusted the bed so Charlotte was snug under her quilt. He lifted Mary from the foot of the bed and tucked the doll in next to his daughter. "May I have my mask?"
"Why, Dada? You're home," Charlotte giggled and wrapped her arms around it.
Erik smiled. "That I am. Good night, darling. I love you." he leaned down and kissed her on the forehead and then on each cheek.
"I love you, Dada."
The Phantom turned off the electric lights in the room and closed the door gently. Christine, also in her dressing robe, took a step back as her husband entered the hallway. Those same blue doe eyes met his and they were full of tears.
"Christine?" He whispered.
"Angel!" She tossed herself into his arms; her mouth quickly finding his bloated one. She held his face, her fingertips lightly tracing every ridge, bump and hole. She knew which ones had no feeling, which ones were overly sensitive.
He sighed into her mouth as he wrapped his arms tighter around her waist. Christine continued to trespass; opening her mouth, nipping at his bottom lip and manipulating her tongue past his lips.
When he pulled away, he opened his eyes, took a deep breath and smiled, "Not that I mind, but what was that for?"
"I now understand why you spoil Charlotte so. She is your ultimate redemption. If you can just love, protect and give her everything you were denied as a child; just maybe the outcome will be different." Christine ran her hands down Erik's throat resting them on the exposed area of his chest. "I understand now why you didn't want me covering her face. I was trying to protect her because I knew society was going to be cruel. You didn't want her to know she was different for as long as possible."
The Soprano pushed his robe open a bit more and placed light kisses on his chest, "Oh my Angel, all the cruelty you survived; the love you were denied and yet the kindness and love you give." Her lips slid up his neck sucking gently as she tugged the bow of his dressing robe tie free. "Oh Erik…Erik…my Erik."
The Phantom's fingers were lost in his wife's hair. His lips met her cheek before nibbling on her ear, "I am trying, my Angel."
Christine sighed and closed her eyes, "You are more than trying. You are a wonderful father and husband." She rested her head on his shoulder, lightly scratching his back with her nails. "I must admit to being a little jealous to hear I am no longer the light of your life. Next you will have her singing and have no need for me."
Erik chuckled, "You never were the light of my life." He lifted his wife into a bridal carry and spun her around before prancing down the hall.
Christine cried out before laughing, "What are you doing?"
Once in their bedroom, Erik gently placed his wife on their bed before crawling on top of her, "You, Christine have always been my Angel of Music." He untied her dressing robe and nuzzled his nose into neck. One hand slid under her nightgown while the other wrapped around her curly locks.
The Diva gasped and moaned as The Opera Ghost manipulated her womanhood as if it were another instrument he played perfectly.
"And I will always need My Angel of Music to sing like this for me; for only me!"
Dressing robes and other garments were quickly banished to the foot of the bed in between lips finding sensitive flesh to worship. The Phantom found himself pinned under The Diva. However, the glorious view of her above him was jarred away when he felt her wet warmth welcoming the tip of his manhood.
"Your womb veil," Erik groaned, grabbing her waist and pulling her up and away.
"Oh yes, of course," Christine panted as she crawled off of him and to her nightstand.
He ran his fingers up and down her back, as Christine sat on the edge of the bed, taking the item out of its tin. She gasped as she felt the womb veil suction into place before biting her lip and smiling to herself. She returned to her position on top of her husband and leaned over him, covering his face in kisses as her hair covered it like a curtain.
"Christine…Christine…" He whispered as he guided her down to engulf his erection. He caressed he behind and then held it firm as they synched their rhythms. It was a quick fury and both were spent. Christine listened to her Angel's fast heartbeat as she calmed her own sprawled out on top of his body.
"I love you, Erik," She whispered moving one of her hands so fingers twirled his tuffs of hair. "I love you."
The Angel of Music gently caressed Christine's back before resting his hand over her derriere and smiled.