Two months of this. It wasn't as terrible as I thought. We often argued about what I wanted, as if he knew, but sometimes we didn't. Sometimes we were friends. We played music, read together, even played games. Chess was his favorite, and one day I got further than ever.

"Check... mate?" I asked, staring down at his cornered king on the board.

Erik shook his head in amusement, "You honestly think I would let you get that far?"

"I thought you were letting me win."

"You should win on your own merit."

"Check is pretty good, though."

"It is..."

He reached for his queen, and I said hastily, "Let me win, please? Out of all our games, at least give me one."

He sighed as he slid the piece away, "There, if that will please you."

I knocked his king off the board, "I've been waiting to do that for weeks now!"

He smiled faintly, "And now you have..."

"It means a lot to me, you know. Maybe one day I'll beat you on my own."

He chuckled, "If you're obstinate enough, I have no doubt. But you only learned how to properly play a little while ago."

He leaned down to pick up the king, and I began to put my white pieces back in line.

"What's for dinner, might I ask?" I said.

"Salmon," he replied.

"Oh, that sounds nice... Could I help make it?"

"You couldn't reach the stove in your wheelchair."

"I can stand up now, though, I think. Just put a brace on my leg."

"If you insist. I need to examine it anyway. It seems to be healing well."

My face fell, "H-how much longer?"

"Originally, I thought another month by now, but... maybe two weeks."

"Two weeks? Only two weeks?"

"Then we'll leave," he said softly, then his voice rose in excitement. "Do you have any requests for the wedding? It will be a quiet affair, but-"

"Erik, I can't," I said, preparing to defend myself against his ideas of me.

His features darkened, "You're going to break your promise, then, after all this time? Have I neglected you? Have I not loved you? That was our agreement-"

"I lied to you. I can't marry you."

"And why not?"

"You'll kill me if I tell you."

"Kill you? You're all I have..." His gaze darkened. "Kill the only thing I have in this world... But why can we not be married? As if it is against something deeper than your own emotions?"

"I made a..." Why was I telling him this? "hasty decision. I was afraid, you see. I thought you were going to violate me the first chance you had, and-"

"I know you're not pure, Christine. Is that what this is about?"

My mouth opened and shut in stupefaction.

Then he said, "You think I care?"

"You... don't?"

"I did once... but what does it matter if the vicomte used you?"

"I'll have you know that I wasn't used-"

"He violated you."

"He did not!" I retorted, setting my last piece down. "Am I not in control of what happens to myself? Can I not choose who touches me? Apparently you think not."

He grabbed my face, holding me between his palms. I gasped, beginning to squirm, but he held me still. His eyes were tired. Not upset, not sad, just tired.

"I have lived all this time without a kiss," he said softly, "until now. I have lived alone, in the dark, pretending to be a ghost, and then an angel. Now I have a chance to live as a man. To have a house and a wife... I don't care if you spent every night with him while I went unseen. I care about the document that you will sign to be my wife, and no one else's. I want someone of my own, who won't run away, who won't be afraid of me, and who won't hate me. I don't require your love. I just want someone, Christine." His hands fell from my face, and one of his fingertips caressed my lips. "And nothing and no one is going to take that away from me now."

He leaned almost as if to kiss me, but drew away, his hands falling to his sides.

"Is it wrong of me to want that?" he whispered. "To want what everyone else has?"

"No... it is not..." I replied, my heart softening as my mind grew hard. "But I'm not a thing, Erik. I'm not your fantasy. I'm a living, breathing person, and I have my own wants, too."

"How do you know I couldn't make you happy? Why can't your wants and mine be the same? You want music and love, don't you? Our marriage will be full of music, Christine, the essence of you. And I'll give you anything you want. You could have a garden, pets, dresses and jewels-"

"I don't want those things."

"Ah, yes," he said venomously. "You want to have a title, an estate, and a handsome husband!"

He slid the chess set from the table, and the pieces clattered on the stone floor. I shook with fright.

"Who do you think I am?" I pleaded. "Don't you know me? Am I one who runs around with rich, handsome men...? But it doesn't matter if I did. Maybe I want to run around with rich, handsome men, and... sleep in their beds! Maybe! Why can't I? Why am I yours to control? My life is mine and I-I want to decide what to do with it."

"You did decide," he retorted sharply. "You made a promise!"

"You promised to love me. You have not upheld that."

"But I do love you," he replied, his voice sounding strangely innocent and childish. "I do love you, more than anything."

"Then let me go."

"Please."

I blinked in bewilderment. Was he begging me now? Was he letting his guard down so much?

"Please, Christine," he told me, his demeanor fracturing. "I can make you happy if you would just let me."

"If I marry you, that means I entrust you with all of me."

"Have I shown myself to be careless with you?"

"No."

"Have I violated your trust, or you, in any way?"

"Not exactly, but that could be due to my leg, and the fact that we are outside of marriage."

"You are sleeping in my bed, my dear, and your leg would offer no barrier to me if I wanted you."

"But when my leg is healed, and you practically own me, how can I trust you?"

"Because I love you. I can't bear to see you cry, so how could I manage to hurt you like that?"

"I don't know!" I pleaded. "I don't know what you're going to do! You scare me terribly. When you throw things, like the chess board, it scares me half to death! And then when you act like everything you want is far more important than what I do. It terrifies me. As you say, if you want me I have no power, and that you think your wants are more important than mine... why shouldn't that frighten me?"

He glanced down at the shattered game, his gaze growing lucid.

"You like to anger me is all," he said. "I react how I react, though I... will try in the future to limit myself... But I don't hurt you in my anger. I have never hurt you since you came into my care."

"Scaring someone hurts them."

"I didn't intend to scare you."

"But you did-"

"I didn't know!" he cried. "You try to anger me, you know! You try!"

"I'm only-"

"I need to examine your leg."

"Erik-"

"Now!"

My lower lip quivered. I turned towards the doorway, and he assisted me over the cobblestones. Then he helped me onto the bed.

"My freedom angers you," I told him.

"Your freedom is an illusion. We have discussed this."

"I just want the freedom to choose."

"You had that when you made our bargain... Be quiet so I can focus and not accidentally cause you injury."

This was not a threat. I did as he said, permitting him to examine my wellness. Then he put me in a brace he had bought and adjusted for me. I was surprised he wasn't angry enough to keep me from helping cook.

"What do you want out of life?" he asked me softly as he stared down at me, making me feel even more helpless.

"What everyone else does, I suppose. To be safe, loved, and doing what I love."

"Then how does your other suitor provide for you? Doing what you love, does that not refer to music?"

"I thought I would continue performing with him as my husband."

He chuckled, "A married woman performing? Won't you have children?"

"I don't really want children yet. I already told him that, and he agreed... If I did, though, then I could teach them music, and I would still be doing what I love."

He shook his head, "Oh, Christine, I don't understand you... We have made our agreement, one you promised to abide by, and we will be married by it. That is what will happen. Perhaps if you had not made such a promise, your words would carry meaning, but they do not. Besides, everything you have said, I can give you far more than he can."

"But I'm afraid of you."

"I'll wear my mask, then-"

"Of what you could do to me."

"Why are you not afraid of what he could?" he shot back. "What if he married you and decided he wanted children now? What if he forced you into the role of a Vicomtesse, one you know you wouldn't fit. Telling servants what to do, going to parties, gossiping and acting aloof, is that what you want?"

"I would take that over this, because I wouldn't be afraid."

"Afraid of me for what?" he demanded, furious. "I have not hurt you down here! I have done nothing but love you! If you're afraid of that changing, why, say that the other man changed? What if he stops loving you, hm? Just like you say I could! You think he can cherish you more than a man who has nothing but you? Nothing! And while you have been here, I have fallen more in love with you by the day. Even your anger, your passions, everything about you, I love you more than I can express... Put away this childish fantasy of marriage that you have, one you already should have gotten rid of the moment you promised yourself to me. I see you tried to deceive me, thinking I would harm you in that time, but did I? Our agreement was, word for word, that you would feel safe and loved. I have accomplished that."

"But I'm still afraid."

"That's not my fault. Do you not feel loved?"

"You've loved me the best you know how to-"

"You tried to trap me with your promise in two ways, then. You thought I couldn't do it, and if I did, you would insist that loving you would have me let you go..." He exhaled, "I need to make dinner now. You wait here and content yourself with your promise."

"But I wanted to help. You already put my brace on."

"Promise not to argue, then. No more discussion of the future."

"I promise."

"And I can trust you aren't trying to deceive me? As if you could?"

"Yes."

He assisted me into my wheelchair and took me over to the odd little kitchen he had in the corner, made entirely of stone. He helped me stand by leaning on the counter.

"Are you going to fall?" he asked.

"No," I replied.

"What seasonings do you prefer?"

"Just a bit of lemon and rosemary."

He procured them for me out of a cabinet, then began with vegetables. It was so odd still, seeing him doing normal tasks. His deformity shone in the candlelight. I had long since lost my repulsion for the warped flesh, the patched parts, his malformed lips, the ones I had kissed...

I couldn't trust him, though. I felt stupid now for my promise, but I knew that he wouldn't have let me go anyway. I also didn't know how to consider what I had asked of him. I asked for love and safety, and for all he knew, he had accomplished that. Of course, he hadn't properly, but... for him, yes. Maybe he would retain that self-control later. Maybe he did love me enough. He was right that I was all he had, so why would he hurt me? I didn't hate him either, only feared him. He was so unpredictable. The moment we married, he could easily take away all my freedom, reject all my wants in favor of his own.

And yet... maybe not. After all, he had shown that he respected me, in the way he knew how to. He had. Should I just trust him?

Maybe it was amusing that I still asked these questions in my head, when there was only one future for me. Erik was right. His mind was stuck. He wanted someone who wouldn't hate him, someone to love. He had already told me that, and I believed it. I did pity him, and... I would marry him willingly, after all this time, if only I didn't still fear him. I truly would.

"Is the fish ready?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, handing him the plate. "T-Thank you."

He glanced over at me, "For what?"

"Letting me help."

"You would have cried," he replied.

The pink fish sizzled as he placed it in the pan. I processed his words. There was not "you would have been upset" or "because I love you" it was because I would cry.

He didn't even understand my emotions, only that my tears hurt him. At least I had that to protect me. It was true, he had grown unable to stand me crying, even in pity for him.

"I can set the table," I said.

"If you want," he replied, assisting me into my wheelchair and handing me plates and utensils.

"Will I make food when we're married?" I asked.

He was silent for a moment in surprise, as I had said "when." Then he replied, "I don't care either way."

"A normal wife would."

"You won't be a normal wife. I don't expect normalcy from you, nor do I want it. I love your voice, your passions, all of you."

"I thought you wanted a normal life, though."

"I want a semblance of one, yes. But I would not sacrifice your spirit to make you a demure little housewife. I want all of you."

I began setting the table, my eyes downcast. "I don't know if you can have all of me as a wife."

"I have all of you here. Why is that any different?"

"Because when I am a wife, you have the right to practically anything with me. I'm not afraid of you right now, due to our agreement and my leg, but once I am, I can promise I won't be bold as I am here. I'm not stupid enough to risk my wellbeing."

"You'll learn that you're safe, though. I'll show you... But we said we weren't going to discuss this now."

"There's not much else to discuss. We've been arguing about this for over two months now."

"I suppose you're right..."

"May I have one promise for the marriage?"

"As you say, though, I could break it. But what promise?"

"You can't touch me in any way without my consent."

He examined the fish, silent. Then he replied quietly, "I will abide by that, if you, in turn, promise me one kiss everyday. Then we are both bound to the promise."

"What type of kiss?"

"I will let you decide. After all this time, every kiss is of equal value to me..."

"I accept, then."

His features softened, and I noticed a tremor in his hand. He removed the fish from the pan and brought it over to the table, then the rest of the meal, before turning away from me to collect himself. He was unable to cease shaking, and it made my heart throb with pity that the promise of a kiss everyday for the rest of his life was enough to break him like this.

Maybe I was wrong to fear him. And yet, why shouldn't I fear a volatile man who had murdered?

"Erik, come close to me," I asked.

He inhaled, then turned. There was no redness to his eyes, but it was evident he was holding back tears. I reached up for his face, resting my hand on his deformity, and brought his forehead to my lips.

"I made a promise," I whispered. "You're right, I did. Two now. And I will abide by them."

He nodded, a few tears falling from his eyes. A few were drawn from mine as well.

Marriage to him wouldn't be so terrible, would it? He just wanted kisses and kindness, that was all. And we would have our music. He was not terrible, either, not to me. Chess with him was fun, reading books, the way he tried to entertain me with magic tricks when I was depressed from the darkness.

As we began to eat, I asked, "Would you show me how to do a card trick after we're done eating?"

His eyes lit, "Of course."

"Could you show me the one where the card reappears in a random place?"

"Oh, that's simple. For me, I mean. You always select the card I have already hidden away."

"How do you know I'm going to select that card, though?"

"Intuition."

"Erik."

He chuckled, "I think we should start simple... then perhaps I'll teach you more, if you want."

"I do."

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So it looks like this fic is turning into a Lilacs-ish thing, but with ALW Erik instead. Do you think he's being honest? Or more importantly, will he be able to keep his promises later on, whether or not he means what he says?

Poor Christine, though. Trapped between a rock and a hard place, in a way.

Just in warning, the next chapter is going to crush some of your spirits. If this does turn into an E/C, it'll be twisted. Not a good one in any way. Sort of like Lilacs.