Paladin39

Erik woke to a pounding headache.

"I do…"

Sophia was so close to sleep that Erik wasn't certain if she had heard his words or not. He watched her, his breath caught in his throat, his heart beating wildly. He felt the cool air on his face and his insides churned, wondering how long he had been without his greatest shield from the world.

"I do love you," he whispered, straining as he recovered his mask from the bedside table.

Sophia blinked slowly, her eyes heavy, the whites turned red from a sleepless night spent doting over his health.

"Did you say something?" she slurred, her head tipping forward. She leaned forward and adjusted his blanket, her fingers gently brushing against his arm.

Erik reached out and grasped her hand, the hand that had placed and turned washcloths throughout the night and kept his fevered skin cool. It had been three decades since anyone had cared for him and he didn't know how to react.

"Mademoiselle," Erik started.

Sophia clasped his hand. "You should rest," she said as she looked him in the eye.

Hers was the hand that had removed his mask, he knew. He ran his thumb over her knuckles, grateful to have her near him, knowing he had done nothing in his lifetime to deserve her kindness.

"I said I do," he replied at last, coughing again. His throat was so dry that it hurt to speak. He was terribly dehydrated, his lips cracked and sore, but no matter the pain he needed to tell her. "I do love you and I will no matter what happens."

Sophia's eyes turned glassy and she nodded. "No one has ever been in love with me before."

Her words made him smile weakly. "It's a very difficult thing to tell someone," he said.

Sophia forced herself to sit up and reached for a cup of water, which he took from her grasp with a murmured thank you. Pride conquered his exhaustion and he sat up, turning away slightly as he drank from the cup. He could feel her watching him and wondered how many hours she had spent staring at the scars. Before he could dwell on the matter he turned to face her, waiting for her response.

"Why is it so difficult?" Sophia asked.

Erik rested for a moment, his fingers still intertwined with Sophia's. "Because there is a very bad feeling that comes when you love someone but they don't love you."

After he spoke he realized that Sophia had not said anything regarding his professed affection for her. His words suddenly felt prophetic, dwelling in the silence and refusing to leave him.

Sophia nodded. "You frightened me to death last night, Monsieur."

"Likewise, Mademoiselle."

Sophia smiled and briefly squeezed his fingers before her eyes closed. Her shoulders slumped and her hand fell into her lap, which startled her awake. She blinked several times and rubbed her eyes, wincing as she touched her bruises.

"I'm so tired," she said, reaching for his hand again. "If you wouldn't mind, I will merely close my eyes for a moment and then return home."

"If you wish to lie down..."

Sophia shook her head quickly. "It's highly improper, Monsieur."

"I will take the chair, Mademoiselle. You may sleep as long as you wish."

"You're very kind, but you still have a low fever. You should rest yourself so that the fever doesn't rage."

Erik sat upright and inched closer to the edge of the bed, preparing to swing his legs onto the floor. He shivered as the blanket fell down from his chest, feeling goose bumps rise on his bare arms. The change of position made him dizzy, but he was determined to see her comfortable and at rest. After all she had endured he couldn't bear having her strain herself a moment longer.

"Here," he said.

Sophia rose from her seat and sat beside him, her hand clutching his tightly. He watched her in silence, unwilling to speak, while she stared at her knees. He feared any words would end the peace he felt merely sitting beside her. Though exhausted and thirsty he felt more at ease at this moment than he had felt in years.

"I had only intended to return your cape and to gather boric acid and cloths to wash my scrapes and cuts," she said. Her lip trembled as her eyes closed again. "I know it was very late, but I wasn't sleepy."

She stopped speaking and took a slow, deep breath, but Erik knew by her expression that she was too overwhelmed to stop her emotions. Her time of caring for him and forgetting her own needs had passed, and without a sound she began to cry, her shoulders shaking and chin sinking down to her chest.

"I thought for certain he would kill me," she sobbed. "Oh, Monsieur, I've never been so frightened. I wanted to fight him, but I feared he would kill me if I did and I didn't want to die."

As to not frighten her further, Erik gently placed his hand on her shoulder. "I won't harm you, Sophia. I swear it. You're safe in this house, on my property."

"I know." She clutched his bare arm and rested her forehead against his shoulder. "I'm so tired, Monsieur," she whispered, covering her mouth with one hand while Erik took the other in his hand. "So tired…and afraid that he will come here again."

"He will regret it dearly if he steps foot on my land. He is very fortunate I didn't return to his home and strangle him tonight after what he did to you."

Sophia nodded against his arm and Erik closed his eyes, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He felt her exhale before she lifted her head and looked into his eyes. Her expression was so soft that she left him speechless.

"Monsieur…Erik," she whispered.

"You need your rest as well."

"I don't think you should…" she said, her voice fading.

Erik couldn't move when Sophia placed her hand against his mask and pried it away. He feared her reaction, but he wanted to know what she felt when she looked at him. For weeks he had replayed the horrified sound of the crowds in the back of his mind. It was the only reaction he was accustomed to.

Sophia's fingers brushed past his cheek and he shivered, the sensation was so foreign that he closed his eyes, wanting to savor how soft and smooth her hand was against his ruined flesh.

"Does this hurt?" she asked.

He shook his head gently, opening his eyes to watch her expression. She appeared far more concerned than horrified, which perplexed him.

Sophia's gaze wandered and he looked away from her face, feeling that she was silently scrutinizing him. His grip slowly loosened, the weight of her unspoken words settling hard on his heart.

"Monsieur, perhaps you should not wear your mask so often," Sophia said softly. "Your skin needs to breathe."

She took a handkerchief from her pocket and looked at him hard, waiting for his permission to touch his face. Lowering his eyes, Erik nodded once.

"It won't heal," he muttered. "It has never healed."

"Because you keep it covered?" she questioned.

It wasn't her intention to anger him, he knew, but he felt increasingly uncomfortable, which made him agitated more at himself than at her.

"Because…" Erik shrugged, "because. That's how it has been for as long as I can remember."

Sophia said nothing as she pulled the handkerchief away and showed him the pink stain left behind.

"Has it always bled?"

Erik shook his head. He didn't know what to say to her. Once in a great while he experienced discomfort, but it hadn't been until Christine left with her fiancé that his skin grew aggravated from moisture trapped between the mask and his flesh. No matter the pain he refused to uncover his face regardless of whether or not he was alone. He wanted to feel it and remind himself of Christine, of all he had experienced—or thought he had experienced. The longer he thought of her the less real it all seemed and the more he realized they had never spoken of anything other than music.

The hole in his heart was much larger and emptier than he had ever imagined, and as much as he loved music and knew Christine felt the same, it hadn't been enough for him. When he looked at Sophia it was as though he finally saw each misstep. He had chased an idea, not a woman. He had wanted what he saw was perfect, not what had existed.

"I should return home, Monsieur, before Philippe wakes and worries," Sophia said softly.

Erik nodded. "Have you rested enough?"

Sophia smiled. "No, I'll most likely fall asleep on the stairs."

Erik thought she would rise and leave his room, but she stayed a while longer and rested her head against his arm. Her breathing deepened, and when he tilted his head forward he saw that she was asleep again, resting in his arms.

"Sophia, I do love you," he said, drawing the blanket up over her shoulders and his. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was already five-thirty. Citrine would start her day at six and when he heard her in the kitchen he would wake Sophia.

Erik kissed her forehead as she slept. "I do love you more than anyone in the world, Sophia."

"I think I'm in love with you too, Erik" she murmured.

As gently as he could he lay her down and covered her, lying on his back beside her.

The dreams had finally come to an end, the visions of his past he wished had been nightmares rather than his childhood. He had never been more grateful upon waking than when he found Sophia at his side. And when he reclined with her next to him, he wanted nothing more than to wake again and find her there.