Sorry for the late update. Here you go.
oo0o0oo
Tori longed for food, something to taste, chew, and swallow, but her stomach writhed at the thought of food sitting in it. She craved something to satisfy her tongue's want for some taste, any taste, but her appetite just wasn't there: her body screamed only for rest. Typical- after running and jumping and singing her lungs out every day, she had no chance to interact with Erik because of her tiredness.
She quickly undressed and flopped into bed, head sinking onto the pillow gratefully as she pulled the covers up to her chin. Paying no mind to Erik, who was sitting on the space opposite her, staring at the window thoughtfully, she started to drift off. Tori knew that it would do no good to wait his bad mood off instead of talking, but the day's rehearsal had worked her to her breaking point. Her breaths came in heavily, her eyes feeling like they had been forcefully peeled open and held open by some invisible being. Erik would simply have to wait.
The man in question made a move to try and keep her awake for a few minutes in order to even have some conversation with her, but she looked to be asleep. Sighing, he lied down next to her and placed his hands behind his head. The ceiling he stared intensely at offered no words of consolation for his discomfort.
They had barely been married a week and it now seemed that everything was falling apart already. Before, they had seemed so happy, so content to just do as they pleased and then visit each other at night. It had been easier when he lived underneath the building where Tori worked, able to hear her practice along with the other performers, but now, living an hour's carriage drive away, he felt detached. Should he go back?
No...that place had been a living hell for him, constantly under fire through discreet ballerina's rumors and the doubtfulness of the managers. The money extortion had been no problem, seeing as he was doing them a favor by leaving them alone (for a small price, of course), but it was really the reactions, stares, gasps that he had gotten sick of. It was a happy prospect back then, marrying his student and going someplace far, far, far from where he had spent most of his life, to start over fresh, but now that he had it he had no idea what to do with it.
Both truly fell asleep without the other knowing: one lost in her exhaustion, the other thoughts of his present.
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"We're moving back."
Tori looked up from her tea in curiosity. Had she heard Erik wrong?
It was a Sunday, the only day Tori did not have to work at the Opera House. She planned to take advantage of the day in its fullest, craving a pure rest far from anything regarding dancing or making music.
"What?" she asked, eyes wide.
"We're moving back," Erik repeated, folding his arms and looking down at her with a stern air that Tori could only recall him using when he was still teaching her. His eyes glittered with hope, a feeling that clashed against the stern line of his lips.
"Back? Where?"
"The Opera. Good Lord, Tori, where else would we go back to?"
Tori looked back into her tea. The trembling liquid reflected her confusion at this sudden descision perfectly, and she shot a glare at her reflection. The woman in the tea glared right back. "I don't understand, Erik. I thought-"
"I thought too." He reached under her chin and forced her face up to meet his gaze. "I thought we were doing fine, Tori. I think we'd be much happier if we went back to the life we once had."
She swiped meekly at his hand, causing it to withdraw slowly. "I don't think dwelling in the past will change anything."
Erik threw up his hands, starting to pace around the room. He always went into this little mode when he has something important to say, Tori thought despite herself. "Think, child, think!" he ranted, "We were much happier in our element, weren't we? I could always hear you perform when I pleased, and you seemed to enjoy visiting me in my house by the lake, am I right? This house is so confined compared to where we both used to live!" He suddenly whirled on her, the sternness replaced with childish excitement. "If I had my way, we would be able to go back to the days when you only knew me by my voice!"
Tori rose from her seat, wringing her hands. "Erik, Erik, Erik! Listen to yourself! This is what you've wanted!"
Deliberate steps marked Erik's way to Tori's side. She watched him anxiously, ears straining to hear his next move. "Imagine!" he whispered, face inches from hers, breath hot and caressing in the cool morning chill, "We could have it our way again. No more dreaming, Tori. You're right, I do have what I want." He straightened, hands limply at his sides. "I want what I gave up back."
"I don't think it works that way."
"In my world, it does."
