Nadir held the door open for Madame Giry as she made her way into the house from the sleigh. He leaned down placing a delicate kiss on her cheek, his cheek touching hers lingering for a moment, "Bonjour mon cheri."
Her heart pounded. "Thank you for your note Madame." He whispered in her ear as he pulled away looking into her eyes seriously.
She stared into his, the pair locked in a gaze for a brief moment before the approach of Meg and Raoul parted them.
Meg entered, her nose a fleshy crimson at the tip. She embraced Nadir, kissing him on both cheeks. He winced from the cold of her nose as it brushed his cheek. "I am sorry Nadir," she said as she pulled her right hand from the muff rubbing the end of her nose.
It took Nadir but a second to notice the presence of a new piece of jewelry on Meg's finger, as Meg, in typical fashion of a woman her age, wore no jewelry, lest it were a family heirloom. Meg noticed Nadir's glance and quickly put her hand back into the muff. Nadir cocked his head slightly, a smirk crossing his face.
Madame Giry had just removed her cloak and looked at Nadir, and then back at Meg. She couldn't imagine what the two of them were smiling about.
Raoul came in shortly behind the women, extending his hand to Nadir. "It is good to see you up and well sir." His eyes began scanning Nadir's clothing. "Are you off somewhere already?" Raoul said, causing the women to look at Nadir.
"It is time Raoul, if you'll permit me use of your sleigh…time to move the box from your carriage house."
Raoul was shaking his head. "Yes sir, but perhaps on the morrow, as it already grows late, you'd not be back from the city before evening, and you'll not want to be out in this weather after dark."
Nadir was fixing his cloak around his jacket. "My intentions are to stay the evening in Paris Raoul. I've need to visit the offices there in the morning, and I see no reason for your staff to make the trip more than once."
Raoul was raising his hand to protest, but Nadir continued. "I've promised that I'd set her final arrangements in order, and contact her next of kin. It is not until I locate her records that I shall know how to do so I'm afraid."
Raoul was shaking his head, "but there's no doubt not one room available in the entirety of Paris, not with this storm."
Nadir looked at Raoul, and then glanced at Meg and Madame Giry, "I've no intentions of lodging in a hotel, nor another inn, I'd thought perhaps that I could..."
Madame Giry quickly interjected. "The Opera House, he could stay in my suite at the Opera House." Nadir blinked, that was not at all what he'd anticipated, nor had Raoul, the men giving Madame Giry a blank stare. "It makes perfect sense," she continued. "The room is readied, there is staff to tend to his needs for meals and such as no doubt they are already caring for those who are finishing the Opera House."
Raoul smiled at Madame Giry, "mother, what a wonderful idea, I shall see to writing a note for him to give to Firmin and Andre', then you can stay as long as you've need to." Raoul departed to his study to scribe a note and affix a proper seal.
Nadir looked at Madame Giry, her face flush, as was Meg's. Nadir began to smile, "mother?" Madame Giry shook her head.
She was just as confused as Nadir. She still didn't know the goings on from the grotto, and Raoul's speech had obviously rather comfortably anointed her with the more familial title rather than her more formal Madame.
Meg began to stammer, "Raoul is, it has been a long afternoon, and what he was trying to…"
Nadir smiled, holding his hand up. "Meg, you've no need to explain, you are among friends, nay family," he smiled at Madame Giry, who blushed and looked down.
Meg noticed the glance smiling herself at Nadir, then her mother. It was a rather pleasant though awkward moment for the three of them. They stood silently taking turns smiling and blushing at one another. Finally, Meg came forward taking Nadir's hand, and reaching for her mother's. She looked at both of them, and then down at their empty hand. She nodded at Nadir and looked at her mother's hand. Nadir smiled, knowing what she wished for him to do. He extended it to Madame Giry who smiled politely taking what was offered. Meg smiled, sighing delightedly.
"One day, the Lord willing, we shall all be one rather large, complicated, passionate, loving, family." Meg said.
Madame Giry was blushing not being able to look up…little did Meg know what had been exchanged between she and Nadir. Meg squeezed Nadir's hand. He knew what she meant, and it was beyond what anyone else knew. They both had such high hopes for what could be. If it was true…if all of it were true…the possibilities for happiness for everyone were…in a word…infinite.
Raoul came down the hall, letter in hand, the seal not yet dry. "This should do Nadir…" Raoul smiled though he had to admit he was puzzled as to why they stood holding hands, all blushing, even Nadir. No doubt the family had been friends a great long while. He secretly hoped that Meg had not shared of their news without him, though from the looks on their faces, he believed she may have.
Raoul drew near the trio. Meg released her mother's hand, holding fast to Nadir's. Without a word, Madame Giry took up one of Raoul's hands, Meg took the envelope from his other hand setting it on the table, and took his hand into hers. In that moment, Raoul felt a rush that he'd not since his mother were alive. He felt like family.
The group stood smiling at one another, the more one smiled, the larger the smile of the next became. There was simply a delightful, exuberant, aura in the air, so real it was nearly palpable. Soon the lot of them were laughing, though they couldn't really say why. Laughter was a release for happiness much like crying was a relief for sorrow. No matter the cause, it came without warning, a welcome visitor.
Raoul released Meg's hand turning to embrace Madame Giry. Meg did the same with Nadir, whispering in his ear. "Travel safely my friend." He hugged her, "and you, get better my dear," he said looking her in the eye and tapping the end of her nose.
Nadir turned to shake Raoul's hand. "Do look after them while I am away sir, and I thank you," he said as he lifted the envelope from the table, "it might be such a thing that Sara's inn does not prove to be hospitable, and may necessitate I take you up on your most generous invitation." He smiled at first Raoul, then at Madame Giry. "And you Madame," Nadir reached out lifting her knuckles to his lips, "do take care. And thank you for permitting me the use of your suite should it be necessary."
She nodded, reaching forward to kiss Nadir on the cheek. "And you sir."
Raoul sighed, "let me escort you sir, to the sleigh…" Nadir nodded to Raoul and the pair walked off toward the door, chatting about how warm it was though the sky was overcast.
Madame Giry turned to her daughter. Neither was truly certain what had just taken place. So much had been communicated without words that they weren't at all sure what they'd done. It had been a peaceful, pleasant moment of intense emotion between the four of them. It could best be described as hope….a united hope that all would be well in the future, and the future would find them even happier still than they were at that moment.
XXXXX
Nicole woke. She looked over, her mother's bed was now empty. She stretched a bit before staring blankly up at the ceiling. She felt numb. She was still tired. Not the normal tired, but the tired one gets after years of toiling only to have it come to an unhappy conclusion.
It would be days only before the formalities of the funeral were over. The question of where to bury her grandmother had already been made years before. She wanted to be buried in Chauesser, much to her family's dismay. A plot had long ago been bought and paid for, a second plot on the same bit of ground would remain unoccupied, without explanation.
She sighed. She was not one to wallow in self pity, nor was she one to let her emotions get in the way of what needed to be done. This would be no different a situation. Had it been any other normal day, she'd have been at work, helping to tidy the tavern in preparation for dinner guests. As the inn was already full, and a guaranteed dining room brimming with customers still unable to travel the streets of Chauesser, she estimated the staff that had remained would be tired, overworked, and in need of help. She could do nothing to erase the past day's events, nor raise her grandmother from the dead. She would rise, she would work, she would help…it was all she had known, and in that routine she could take comfort.
XXXXX
Christine woke, squinting her eyes to see if the sun still shown around the sides of the curtains. It did not. The room was a bit chilly, the logs in the fireplace were dwindling. Erik was tucked neatly next to her, the poultices still affixed, though in a bit of disarray on his neck and chest. Christine braved the pungent odors of them to lay her head on Erik's chest. The rattling sound she had perceived earlier seemed a bit reduced, and he seemed to breathe a bit more freely. She smiled. It hadn't been Madame Giry's recipe, but it had sufficed.
She slipped from beneath the covers on the other side of the bed, padding quietly over to the fire. As she passed the door, her nose was greeted by the glorious scent of the stew she knew they had been preparing. The fragrant thyme and sage, complimented with the well-infused rich stock of the boiled chicken, making it all the more enticing. No doubt it would be near or just beyond the normal dinner hour.
She walked to the wardrobe, retrieving a long dress, suitable for evening, a bit warmer than the one she'd worn only hours before. She loved this shade of blue; she thought it brought out the blue in Erik's eyes when he stood next to her. She wandered back to the vanity, laying the dress down on the divan. She looked down; fully half of the apple strudel was gone. She smiled, looking over at Erik, had he? Sometime while she'd slept he'd found his way over to it, making something of a meal no doubt. She smiled again, at least she knew he'd enjoyed it, and after all that is why she'd made it!
Christine sat down at the vanity, pulling her hair up into the satin ribbons, twisting it as Madame Giry had taught her. Her hair was just like her mother's her father had said. It was as unruly as a stallion, yet as soft and beautiful as the coat of a newborn foal. Christine smiled whenever she thought of it.
She ran her hand down over her abdomen. She wondered of their children. Would there be a daughter among them? Dark tight curls with eyes as blue-green as the azure oceans of Erik's eyes? Would there be a son as handsome and strong as the man who now lay asleep in the bed not far from her? And what of the last one, would he or she be as wise or as talented as their father? She smiled rubbing her hand over and over the small bump. "I love you my little ones.." she said. Suddenly she felt a warm gentle hand run along her stomach.
"And I love you also," came the warm gentle voice of her husband.
She closed her eyes, smiling as she leaned back into his presence. As he slid his arms around her, drawing her into them, he lifted her into the cradle of his chest. He leaned down kissing her forehead, she turned her head exposing her cheek. He placed a gentle kiss on it, sliding his lips down her jawbone and down her neck. She suddenly knew why a kitten purred when it was pleased with one's touch. She tried to stifle the urge to giggle and flinch from the tickling sensation and learn to appreciate fully the joys of his touch.
Erik smiled as he felt Christine try to resist the urge to squirm, and in the end give in to the laughter that threatened to boil to the surface. "Christine, Christine, Christine…" he said kissing her chin, her cheek, her forehead.
Christine said, "Erik, you may rest while I ready myself. It is nearing the dinner hour my dear, and if we stay sleeping now we shall be up in the middle of the night unable to sleep." She smiled as she felt the warmth of his breath on the nape of her neck, he began whispering in her ear.
"Why should we have want to rise when comfort and warmth surrounds us? If we should rest now and wake in the silence of the night, do you wonder that we should have all the time in the world to enjoy one another's company?" Christine nodded, she had to agree, his words were not untrue.
"Erik, my dear sweet Erik," she said leaning back into his arms as he kneeled behind her. "It is wonderful to have you home my love." She smiled as she nestled her head back into his chest. "Oh ho I missed you while you were gone. Though I was not alone, I felt alone without you here."
He smiled kissing her forehead again, wrapping his arms protectively around her. Their eyes met in the reflection of the mirror. "You are as beautiful as a rose in the full bloom of spring my dear, I dare say that being with child agrees with you." Erik said, running one hand along her jaw.
Christine blushed. "I must confess, the absence of the tight corsets has been welcome, and the thought of eating doesn't frighten me so, though I must say that what I should eat and what I have want to eat are often two very different things."
Erik laughed, sliding around on his knees to Christine's side, she in turn turning on the seat to face him. "Did the doctor not tell you?" Erik asked Christine.
"To what do you refer?" Christine said inquisitively as Erik took her hands into his pressing his lips against the pair of knuckles.
"Of your cravings my dear, that they may often be at odds with your needs."
Christine cocked her head. Erik rose to sit on the bench next to her, turning to look at her in the mirror rather than in the eye. There was something entirely pleasant about looking at their reflections in the mirror. Erik and Christine neither had picture nor portrait, and looking at the mirror was the only way that Erik could see the pair of them together, and it was thrilling.
Christine smiled at him as he began to speak. They both enjoyed gazing upon themselves together, next to one another, in Christine's mind she was able to see them as a couple, as husband and wife. Today, Erik was able to picture the two of them together not with his mind's eye, but his real eyes, and it was a sight to behold. They sat smiling at one another for a long while, looking back and forth at the sight.
"We do rather make a handsome pair Erik." Christine said, nestling her head into his neck and gazing back at their reflection in the mirror.
He laughed, looking down into her eyes. "Christine my dear, how ever will I be able to love you more than I do now? Yet I am amazed at how each moment leads me to a greater love for you still."
She slid her hand up behind his neck pulling his head slowly towards hers taking it into a passionate kiss. Erik's skin tingled. He was no longer certain that the sensation of being wanted would ever not be foreign to him. It was a dream that he worried unconsciously would be snatched from him, just as he was once snatched from the only life he ever knew and put in a cage by the beasts that would use his tragedy for profit. Erik blinked.
"What is it Erik?" Christine said as she felt his frame go rigid from its relaxed wanton pose.
Erik pulled away just slightly. "It is nothing Christine." He said sweetly, blinking trying to push the memory that was trying to claw its way through his shroud of happiness.
Christine rubbed at his shoulder. "Erik, you know that your burdens have become my burdens. When I agreed that night to love you through the good times and in bad, those vows Erik…I took them most solemnly." She blinked looking at him, lifting his chin to look into his eyes. She assumed that the toils, the events, of the past day troubled him. The truth she did not know, was that it was not in fact the recent past, but the distant past that held the unspeakable horrors that haunted him.
Erik looked down into her eyes. "Christine, there are things from my past that I do not even understand, cannot articulate, wrap my thoughts around, how is it that I could even begin to explain them." He swallowed, "what bearing do they have on our future, our life together now…..that was a lifetime ago, when I was a lost soul…but I am no longer lost, no longer a meaningless apparition, a ghastly specter." Erik took Christine's hands into his, "Christine I am now your husband, father to our children," He said as he ran his hand across her stomach. "This, this is our future, why must we speak of a past that would only threaten to destroy every shred of happiness we now possess?"
Christine looked at him compassionately. There was something so pleading, so vulnerable in his eyes. She knew with a fair degree of certainty, that he was this vulnerable with not another soul on this earth, and if anyone came close it would be Nadir. Nadir's words of caution, rung in her head… "Christine there will be things he shall never be able to speak of, lest they destroy him, be comfortable with a man whose past you may never know, do this out of love for him." Though his words did not fall on deaf ears, Christine exercised her own judgment, however misguided, that of a wife who needed to love him, needed to help him. There was a long pause of silence.
"Erik, do not think that I wish to pry at what is long past, for that is not my intention. Some things will remain forever in the past, long forgotten, long forgiven by God Himself…those things cease to exist in His eyes, so they shan't exist in mine."
Erik glanced down at Christine. He understood forgiveness. He knew that what was forgiven by God had been erased, though it did not mean that it had been wiped from his memory. "Christine, I.."
Though she had never silenced him when they were but mentor and student, as his wife, she took those liberties, for his sake. "Erik, I've a sense from the pain that rises to your eyes that there are things you've yet to forgive yourself for…I understand not the struggle you go through for they are yours and yours alone, but I do understand the journey, the journey to forgiving oneself, and it is a lonely, difficult road. Know simply that though I do not have knowledge of WHAT it is that you struggle with, that you no longer walk this road alone. I will be here for you, no matter what it might have been Erik, no matter at all." Christine swallowed hard as she looked up at Erik, his lips were trembling, and a tear threatened to breach his lower lid.
He blinked looking at her. "Christine if you knew, you would not be so quick to convey your tolerance, your forgiveness, I am not worthy of.."
She pulled him rather quickly to her kissing his lips firmly. She gently leaned away, "isn't that.." she ran her hand along his cheek, "isn't that the most exquisite part of forgiveness? Knowing that we are not worthy, we need not, nor could we ever be worthy of forgiveness for our trespasses…that is what makes it so glorious, so liberating! Though we are not worthy, He forgives anyway?"
Christine looked up at Erik with pleading eyes. "Forgiveness does not mean that we forget, for some things we never shall, but it means that we are no longer held to account for what we confess and are truly sorry for." Erik looked away, her honesty was all too overwhelming. "Erik, I know you torture yourself still for your past, it is all too obvious in your eyes, your repose." Christine said as she ran her fingers along his shoulder and down his arm until it joined his hand. "Erik, let me help you. Let me help you erase that which haunts you."
Erik looked at her, a sudden flash in his eyes, the horrors could never be erased, she knew nothing of those horrors! Erik pulled his hand away, standing and moving over to the fire. He kneeled and began putting small logs in, pushing at them with the poker.
Christine's lips trembled as she sat on the bench by the vanity. She raised her hand wiping a single tear from beneath her eye. She mustered her courage, "Erik, why? Why is it that you refuse my help, refuse my love when it could be of most use to you?" She paused, her breath catching as she watched him looking into the growing flames. "Do you not trust me?"
Erik eyes flashed, she had hit a tender point, and try though he might to stifle them, the words slipped from his tongue before he could bridle it. "Trust you…as I trusted you with this?" He rose walking over to the bust of Chopin, lifting it, twisting the bottom and releasing the keys into his hand.
Christine's eyes grew wide, her hand drew to her mouth….how had he known, had someone observed her…no…he'd spoken to no one but her since he'd been home. Her reaction betrayed her. "Erik, I…"
He rose his hand, looking away as he squeezed the keys in his other, putting the bust back on its pedestal. "Did you feel threatened?" Erik said, a sardonic tone in his voice. Christine could not look at him, she shook her head. "Did you have need to pay someone?" Again, she shook her head, no, she'd no need for funds. "Did you have need to hide, need to put something in the cellar, need to escape from the house, need for a gun or a saber?" Yet again, she shook her head no. "Then what Christine…..then what need had you for these?" He dangled the keys out in front of him. His jaw was tight, his eyes fixed and flashing a steely blue.
She sat silent. How he had discovered it still perplexed her. He walked over to her lifting her hand. Not the loving touch of her husband, but the stern hand of one teaching a lesson, and though he'd never revealed himself while she was his pupil, she surmised he might have grasped her hand as such when she'd been disobedient.
"Come, let us go to what you sought, you can show me my dear, that which you needed to find while I was gone, that which could not wait until I returned."
Christine looked at him with a bit of trepidation in her eyes…what did he know? Erik neither waited for her to donn a robe, nor slippers. He led her without a word, from their bedchamber out into the hall and down the stairs. Not a soul stirred in all of the house, or if they did their discretion was impeccable. He led her down the long corridor that would end at the very room she had been in…the room with the desk. A lump grew in her throat. She could tell if not by his lack of words, then certainly by his grip on her hand that he was displeased. Her heart began to race as they reached the door.
He turned, and for the first time since they'd left their room, he looked at her. "I gave you my trust freely, without question…" then he turned pushing the door open. The lump in her throat grew and it felt as if it were her very heart rising to escape her body to hide itself from that which it knew had to come next. Erik led her over to the desk, and gently put her hand over the raised ring in the wood.
She began to run her hand across it, her eyes growing wide…she had put her tea cup there…she closed her eyes…it had betrayed her.
"Yes my dear…." Erik said as he walked away from her, back turned, "did you know that this desk belonged to Louis the XIV?" Her eyes pressed closed…he had given her so very much, and this one thing…this one thing which he did not share she had felt bold enough, selfish enough to deprive him of….how had she managed to become so brazen. She could say nothing.
"It is among my prized possessions…he was a man of great power, the greatest King France has ever bred, great architect, great thinker…a great many things. Now it is blemished. It had survived wars, fires, and auction, all of the finest treachery man had to offer, and now…" He walked toward her, coming to rest next to her, his hand placed firmly over hers, pressing it down over the swollen wood, "and now it fell in its perfection to the hands of curiosity…prying eyes that sought that which did not belong to them, that which was not offered them…" Christine could not even look up. "How could you Christine….how could you…" His voice trailed off as he walked away from her, his back turned again. Truly, the ring had betrayed the woman….and she had betrayed the man. The betrayal was not that of words, but of actions…it was unspoken.
Author's Notes:
PhantomsRogue: Yes, a person is only as good as their promise…I shall, though it may not be until next week. I hate to return e-mails just for the sake of doing it. If I cannot give it proper attention, then it waits. I hope you understand…if it is any consolation, it is the same for me in person. If I am having a conversation with someone, I want them to feel like they are the only person in the world at that very moment…perhaps yet another quirk in my personality I'm afraid!
Our two minds together could be a dangerous thing! LOL! The story shall be a good one, I've no doubt, even if we are the only two who appreciate it! Telepathic indeed!
So glad you caught the undertaker's thoughts. That might be important later…there is always some meddlesome character popping up isn't there? I loved your thoughts on Erik, but as you see from this chapter, he is a CHANGING man, not a changed man. His temper threatens him yet…
Um, yes, about that last stocking, I think it should be Christian Bale, or Johnny Depp. I'm afraid I'd have to have an eighth stocking (a week plus a spare) for I could not choose between the two. I plan to rent the movie 'American Psycho' this weekend with Bale. I've heard its quite good, if not a bit disturbing…something good for the eve of Halloween don't you think? LOL!
The translation, I'm so glad you asked.
Le bon jour mon âme-soeur, ma soeur Good day my kindred spirit, my sister
Have a great time on Monday night…alas, I have a special "treat" reserved for our story for Monday!
WriterMuseoftheNight: Yes, pleading the fifth is a favorite of mine especially if it is to safeguard the development of the story! LOL! I hope that this chapter did not disappoint… Erik is such a complex creature…I cannot imagine he could have allowed this to pass without attention. Patience when one feels threatened is something that has to be learned…our automatic response is to retaliate, to protect oneself. Erik's past was as dark and painful as I could imagine. It wouldn't have been out of the question if he'd never be able to truly trust again!
Have a great weekend!
Batteredchild: Thank you, I rather enjoyed the secret rooms myself. It is just what one would expect from someone like Erik. He knows, perhaps better than anyone that being able to defend oneself, to wage whatever revenge, to do what one must in times of peril…one must be prepared for every plausible eventuality. His intelligence just keeps peeking through…he was smart enough to hide things in odd places, and never all things together lest one be discovered. I do think it is a testament to his feelings for Christine that he even shared the locations of any of them with her…even Nadir didn't know of them!
Hope the music exam went well! Perhaps or beloved Erik channeled some energy your way to give you added strength…after all this is one of his areas of expertise! LOL!
Have a great weekend!
Faeriecatcher1: Ancient literature is a beautiful distraction. Now do not misunderstand me, I love modern movies as much as anyone…(you should see my collection) but there is something spiritually moving about reading a story that was written hundreds of years ago by an author whose spirit lives on through their literature. I don't know how to describe it, there is a special feeling when you are embracing the words of someone who sat penning them long years before you were born, when the world was a different place… It is the oddest sort of connection to the past. Really, if you embrace literature in this way, it gives it a whole new pleasure, a layer of enjoyment that the author could only have dreamed of when they wrote it!
Erik and Christine's relationship is the centerpiece of this story…whatever else happens is merely window dressing for a love so strong and true that it has the power to heal those that are touched by it. I sometimes think when I'm writing about their feelings that the readers will find it redundant, a repetition that makes them grow weary, but I cannot help myself. When a love is this strong…it commands our respect don't you think?
I hope you have a great weekend!
Phantomfan13: Our poor Erik indeed! Didn't you just want to go in and rub his shoulder, tell him it was going to be o.k.? I am glad to hear that you could picture him in your mind. I could see him…his masculine frame leaned over the desk, giving in to the emotions he was always trying to hide even from himself…sighs If only he could allow himself to deal with his emotions, his memories…then perhaps he could allow Christine inside of his world.
'The Man in the Iron Mask', yes, I've seen it. You do know that this was a true story don't you? Something about it being true made it that much more intense to watch. I thought Leonardo did a great job…though it is a little eerie for me to watch because he looks so much like my brother…it was like watching my brother on screen! Yes, I eagerly await the movie 'Casanova', and it almost goes without saying that I would love to see 'Pride and Prejudice' it will be so very much fun. I would love to go to the film festivals where they will be premiered, but alas I've neither the time nor the resources to go right now, though I wish I could!
Of all the periods in history, I love, love, love, the colonial period…everything from the early 1700's forward to just the turn of the early 1900's. To me, anything after that is too recent to appreciate fully, or with any romanticism. There was something about the industrial revolution that changed the way our world behaved. We worried less about our neighbors, became less altruistic, became more self-sufficient, and generally, I think that was nearly the death of philosophy….no one wanted to listen to it anymore…like the machines had replaced the importance of the workings of the brilliant minds. Sorry, not that I don't appreciate the things that we now enjoy, I'm simply saddened by the fact that we are now so preoccupied by what the machines can do, and less so with people. Now that I've completely moved away from the topic…I shall be silent!
Have a great weekend!
Nordygirl: Yet another laugh inducing song! I have to say you are creative, and I can hear music in my head when I read them….Erik would be so proud… "music inside my mind…" Yikes… If you are going to use the song "If I Were a Rich Man" from 'Fiddler on the Roof', please let me know if you are using the original version, or the one that is playing on the radio now…no doubt you've heard it… "If I were a rich girl…." LOL! I can only imagine that Tivia would not be amused by the rendition! LOL!
Christine's hormones are affecting her…and spilling over to Erik…most likely as he feels so connected to her…poor man…as if he didn't already have enough to deal with!
Have a great weekend…and don't eat too much candy on Monday!
Phantomphorever: Thank you for your reassuring words. I can always picture scenes in my mind when I'm writing them…what I appreciate knowing is that the words somehow convey that and allow the reader to picture it in their mind when they read it. I just imagined him having an utterly vulnerable moment there. He is a strong, strong, man, but the instant that he had a fleeting doubt about the one person he was so sure he could trust (Christine) it made him question everything again, if however briefly. He's had this pain suppressed for so long that now that he is coming in touch with what it feels like to live in a world where emotions rule, he is having to learn how to deal with memories that are erupting now through the small cracks in his soul that are being created by being loved. This sounds way more complicated than I meant for it to be…but hopefully you get the idea. If you can imagine Erik to be a volcano…though I am not a volcanologist, I imagine him to be like Pelee in Hawaii, a slow moving low-viscosity lava flow from a shield volcano. He now has openings in his soul and slowly, but certainly, his emotions are oozing out, creating a new surface…a new human on the outside. Now I really have gone off the deep end…too much caffeine again today I'm afraid!
Have a great weekend!