I'd like to say our lives perfectly melded once we were together. But I don't like lying. We both had become accustomed to our lives in Paris. However, we spent a considerable amount of time together. I learned his little habits. The way he'd hum to himself when he was working. The way his hands drummed on any available surface. The way his brow furrowed when we made love.
Despite our age, our intimate moments never faltered. He wasn't used to being taken care of, so I set on a mission to show him everything he missed, everything he deserved.
It was one of these nights where I finally declared my case solved. We were spending the night in my flat, which wasn't the original plan. But his hands were excellent persuaders. Erik's lithe frame was nestled in my arms, but he wasn't asleep. He was completely still, save for his fingers lightly drumming on my collarbone. He seemed uneasy. He was making progress in asking for what he wanted, what he needed. But the trauma he went through is difficult to unlearn.
"Erik, what are you thinking?" His fingers froze. The moments ticked by silently. Eventually, his fingers resumed their drumming.
"Are- Do we? Are you… bored? With me?"
"Bored? Why would I be bored?" Erik sat up, worry lines deep in his brow.
"It- It's just- How am I enough for you? Making love to a corpse is what you want?" He had been wearing his mask less, but he felt no less uncomfortable in his skin.
"Erik, you silly little man. I have wanted you from the moment I saw you. Nothing could change that. You and I make sense, and there's nothing boring about that." He stared into my eyes, searching for a lie. Let him look. All he'll find is the truth.
"You'll have to forgive me, mon ami," Erik chuckled wryly. "I'm just an old fool."
"Perhaps. But you're my old fool." I grinned and intertwined our hands together.
"Ugh, you great booby." He lightly pushed me away, but his smile was genuine.
"Your great booby?"
"Yes!" Erik responded with an exasperated sigh. "My great booby and your old fool." I kissed him. He made me feel like a lovesick teenager, but he felt so right. I'm just sorry it took me so long to admit it.
I wrapped his thin frame in my arms as he moved to straddle my waist. The parchment-like feel of his hands across my face, my shoulders, my arms was grounding. But it was also intoxicating. I would never get over it. I loved the feeling of him, I loved his mind, I… I love…
"I love you." It was the first time I'd said it out loud, but I have felt it since the very beginning. He didn't seem as surprised as I expected. Instead, he just smiled, hands twisting in my hair.
"I love you, too." He kissed me, smiling all the while.
At that moment, I knew that I had solved my mystery. Erik was… complicated. He was talented, dangerous, passionate. But more importantly, he was mine. And I was his. And I wouldn't want it any other way.