Christine

My feet ached from the tight toe-shoes. Blisters opened. Muscles burned.

The choreography pattern was in my mind. I leapt. I spun. I moved with the music, allowed it to become a living thing, a part of me. I danced, truly danced. My heart hammered, pulse raced.

Pain be damned.

It wasn't about me or her or the next girl. The music entered us, made us one. We were many, we were ballet. We moved as a single entity; graceful, powerful, beautiful. Possessed by the music, certainly, and more in love with it as we flew through the bars.

Every turn, every arc became a testament to the strength and love that the music evoked in us. We were moved; tapping, thrusting, leaping in perfect time until we were all of one mind.

How had I forgotten this? The unity with other dancers? The beauty of ballet, the thrill of performing?

The rehearsal ended. My musical trance ended.

I returned to the present; one moment in the glory of the dance, the next brought me back to reality.

Distantly, I heard Erik call out from the audience, "Dancers dismissed, enough rehearsal for today. We'll meet up tomorrow at the usual time,"

I was aware, but still slightly dazed from the mock performance. I filed out with the other ballerinas, off the stage and into a smaller practice studio. The other girls began to joke and tease each other and I could only stand in the doorway, watching them.

I could have been a part of this...

So beautiful we all were, but only when dancing. All dancers wake up in the morning as a normal young woman; we wake, we eat breakfast, we select our wardrobes and make plans for the day. A dancer is any face on the street until music sounds out, ringing through us, and we awaken from the everyday.

We count the beat, become familiar with the rhythm, we begin to move until everything falls away, until nothing matters but this, the music, the audience, the thrilling glory.

I moved down the hallway until I found the staircase that would lead up to Erik's office. My day clothes were there. I stepped inside and slipped the tight black tank top over my head, replacing it with my red sweater set from earlier in the day. The loose black pants were next, quickly shed and replaced by the corduroys. I saved my shoes for last.

Wincing and groaning, I pulled my bare foot free from first one, and then the other dance shoe. My toes had been pinched, and there was a blister on my left foot, so deep that it had started to bleed. It had been a year since I'd danced so long, pushing myself to perform as I once had. I took a test step, nearly limping, but like any other dancer, I had long ago learned how to ignore the pain.

I left the clothes in Erik's office and returned to the auditorium. It was crowded with musicians packing up, ready to leave for the day. A few of the other dancers waved to me as they stepped out, but I couldn't find Erik or Raoul.

A hurried looking trombone player hustled past me, followed by a few violinists, and then Erik came up the center aisle, right behind them. He moved to stand in front of me and smiled in his easy, soft way. The man had the brightest eyes I'd ever seen, and I hadn't told Erik this, but I was envious of those eyes. More than just his color, his eyes were so expressive.

His eyes told me everything.

Erik adored me, he loved me.

He told me last night, before I could tell him first. Erik told me that he loved me last night while we were making love in his bedroom. How had any of this happened? How had Erik and I come together, how could he love me?

It was all so surreal that any of this had happened to me that I often had to pinch myself to make sure I hadn't dreamed it all.

I felt his hand on my waist and a smile swept over my face at his simple touch.

"You were wonderful, Christine. Truly wonderful," he breathed against my ear. I shivered. Erik knew the effect he had on me, it was all a game between us.

I raised my arms and cupped his face, careful not to touch his mask. I don't know how many, or if any of his colleagues knew about his scars or the terrible story behind them. He was beautiful to me.

Erik had given me so much, more than I ever thought I could hope for. He had given me too much.

"Thank you for this, Erik. You didn't have to-"

"No, no, no," he interrupted. "I won't hear anymore of your nonsense. Please, no more of your 'You didn't have to do this Erik'. I wanted to do this because I knew that you were just what the dance needed. You were the…missing piece. It is complete now." He said, smiling and cupping my face.

Erik bent slightly to take my lips with his. His mouth was soft and warm, awakening the memories from the night before. I remembered his lips, his hands and body. The love we made had been…it is difficult to explain.

It had been wonderful, but painful. Awkward, yet perfect. When I had seen Erik, I hadn't been able to understand how a man and woman were able to fit together. His body, so different than a woman's, was strong and sure. He fascinates me, but the look in his eyes filled me with sudden intimidation.

Erik wanted to make love again, I knew it.

Would he hurt me as he had last night?

My stomach tensed at the thought, despite that I knew Erik had never meant to hurt me. It wasn't as if he could help it, anyway. Naiveté left me several years ago- I knew that my body wouldn't feel pain for long, that it would lessen each time we made love until there would be only bliss between us. I wanted nothing more than that, but I was no less worried about the pain I would undoubtedly feel with him again tonight.

Simply, being made love to was unfamiliar and a part of me was horrified at being held so vulnerable, almost resentful that as a man Erik was naturally stronger; he, the dominant, experienced male and me, his bumbling, damaged lover.

I detested my awkwardness; last night and this morning I had put on the front of being carefree, and although I truly was happy, I nevertheless felt monumentally inadequate.

The voice in the back of my mind is a pest, always baiting me.

Erik deserves better. A sophisticated, pure woman. Why has he settled for an urchin like you?

He'd said I was the missing piece just now, and his tone reminded me of how he'd said he loved me only hours ago, late last night. I prayed for his sincerity, that what he felt for me was real, even if it all ended tomorrow.

No one had said those words to me the way that he had. No one had made me believe…

Erik

She was tense, that was plain for all to see. I didn't know why she became so anxious, but I hoped to improve her mood once we returned to the loft. That this beautiful, golden dancer had given herself to me in the night, it had been wonderful for me, but Christine…

I'd hurt her. Tears had filled her eyes, her cry of pain still echoes in my mind even now. Self-loathing had filled me that, despite all my promises, I'd still hurt her, but I am determined to please her at every next opportunity. Admittedly, I have a strong, healthy appetite, and to me Christine is a feast. The only way to cement her trust in me, her love, was to help her understand that making love was different from simple sex.

Sex from her is the last thing I want- making love, however, I would happily sling her over my shoulder again and lock us both in my bedroom for the next month. I love her, she is so wonderful for me.

I took her hand into mine and together we headed for the lobby. Once out in the brighter, open space, her eyes darted to all of the faces in the crowd. "Where's Raoul?" She asked me.

I squeezed her hand to reassure, "He should be out here, I imagine he wants to sing your praises. We couldn't take our eyes off you while you were onstage."

The girl blushed and looked away, charmingly embarrassed, though I don't understand why. She has a gift, why not bask in the deserved compliments?

Modesty, perhaps.

I glanced up, "Oh, there he is," I said, nodding as Raoul approached us.

The younger man walked up, smiling. I admit that I'd felt a touch of uneasiness when Christine told me of her close friendship with him, but as he and I spoke while the dancers readied themselves onstage, I no longer felt threatened. The boy had intimated that as Christine's friend, he only hoped for her happiness. One thing we could both agree on, at least.

His handsomeness unnerved me a bit, naturally. Christine had proven herself to be unbothered by my scars, but all the same I didn't want her tempted by Raoul. It is only human to seek out pure, intact candidates for a mate. Perhaps we both need to learn what it is to truly trust in each other.

Raoul smiled and reached for Christine, pulling her to him for a hug, "You were fantastic! My God, I've never seen you dance like that before! Where did that come from?"

Christine laughed as he released her, "Well, it's always been there, just waiting to be let out,"

"I could tell. You were great, Christine, I really mean it." His eyes held nothing but warmth for her, something just a touch deeper than friendly affection.

I cleared my throat, "Do you live close, Raoul? I'd be happy to give you a lift,"

His eyes broke from her and turned to me. "What? Oh, no, that's all right. I'm crashing at my brother's apartment tonight, but we're all going to the family house outside of the city for Christmas."

Christmas?

I blinked and thought of the date. Yes, Raoul was correct. Christmas was close; had I been so distracted by Christine that I'd overlooked the holiday? I smiled to myself. The girl was the best distraction I could hope for.

Raoul glanced down to check his watch, "Oh, it's a lot later than I thought it was. Heather wanted to visit with me tonight," he muttered.

I raised a brow. Heather?

"Is Heather your girlfriend?" I asked. I felt Christine lightly squeeze my hand.

Raoul shook his head. "No, she's one of my sisters. I have three, and she's the oldest. Knowing her, she probably just wants me to do her homework for her!" He laughed.

Christine stepped forward and hugged him. She kissed his cheek. "It was great seeing you today, Raoul. I'll think about what you asked me earlier, too." She promised.

Raoul smiled and held her hand in both of his. "Thank you for that. I'm not the only one who wants to see you again, you know." He hinted, winking. Raoul then turned to me, and put his hand out; I shook it. "It was great to meet you in person, Erik. I hope we get to meet again."

I nodded back to him. "It was my pleasure, Raoul."

Once Raoul had turned and left the opera house lobby, Christine swatted my shoulder, her eyes flashing. I couldn't help laughing at her. "What's the matter?"

"You! You practically charged into the assumption that he had a girlfriend! You're jealous, Erik." She said. I could tell that she was amused, but fighting not to show it.

I shrugged. "Well, so what if I am? You're mine, but I can see that Raoul wishes it wasn't so."

Christine followed me through the building, towards the back where the staff parked. "No, Erik. You're wrong about Raoul. He doesn't want that from me."

I turned to her, bringing an arm about her waist. Teasingly, I kissed her neck. "Where is your woman's intuition, Christine? Raoul might not say so, or do anything overt, but I can tell that he isn't the only one who's jealous."

She brought her arms around me, "No, I don't want him to feel that way. We had our chance in Miami, and nothing happened. Besides, I found someone I love even more."

Christine said the words so casually, teasing, but I'd never taken the subject of love lightly. I leaned down to kiss her. There was a strange sensation in my chest, causing my pulse to race. I touched her cheek. "Christine, please don't toy with me now. Don't say the words if you don't mean them."

If she realized she'd made a mistake and took the words back, I felt I might die from her rejection.

Her hands smoothed over my shoulders and across my chest. "I do mean them, Erik. I really, truly do. I'm sorry; I'm just not…sometimes it's hard to express the way I feel…" She said, her cheeks flaming.

I brought her closer to me. "Don't apologize, Christine. I understand, and I admit that I can be the same way, on occasion." I kissed her cheek and stroked her arms. We were both so damaged, and yet so determined to heal. "Let's go home, eh? I want to talk, among other things…" I said, hinting.

She smiled awkwardly and swallowed before moving forward to follow me out of the opera house.