Christine felt a pang of fear in her stomach. Her angel so to speak… was not an angel, but a man. All sense of magic and wonder metamorphosed into anxiety and dread. She got a good look at his face again. It was still the same, but she saw his anxious face, trembling hands, and sweat coming from his brow.
She didn't say anything, only watched him as he sang to her once more. His song was like a spell and once again she entranced by the magic of his voice.
He sang of the darkness and it's beauty. The music swirled in around her body, warming her in the most pleasant ways. It was like a warm blanket wrapping around her. Even though she seemed comfortable something still felt off. She took off her rose-colored glasses and looked around again.
Instead of relieving her anxiety, he lead her down a small stone staircase. His blue eyes look straight into hers, looking for something… like a clue. Pushing back the dark velvet curtain, he presented his greatest creation... a wedding dress.
The amount of… everything was too much for Christine to handle. The world around her went dark and silent.
Erik caught her weightless figure. "Oh Christine," he mumbled. He walked through a passageway to a soft surface and laid her down. " You will help me make the music of the night."
He kissed her forehead , hardly believing that his angel was here in his home, in his bed. A blush rose to his cheeks as he smiled at the thought of her.
Christine woke up with a groan, her head spinning. She was in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar place. With slight panic she rose, wobbling.
"I remember there was mist... and a lake," she muttered. " There was a boat and... and there was a man." She looked at Erik, he was quiet, but an ecstatic energy surrounded him.
Erik sat at his organ, his encounter with christine inspiring him with new ideas for his music. He scribbled down notes, testing them, when a soft hand brushed his shoulder.
He looked behind his touched shoulder to his angel, Christine. A smile spread to his face and he kissed her hand.
"Christine, you've awaken." He spoke.
"I have monsieur," she whispered. " I apologize for being so forward, but what is your name?"
Erik's breath hitched. He completely forgot about manners and common courtesy. Standing up, he nodded his head at her.
"Erik. Erik Destler."