This Love

A/N: I have finally moved into my dorm and I have finally settled down into my room. I am so sorry that I have taken so long to update. Who knew that driving from California to Alabama would leave absolutely no time to update? Anyway, here is the long awaited update. I hope you enjoy as I hope you also forgive me for the delay.

Erik sighed in relief as he turned the key of his sanctuary, locking the door to the classroom of his music theory class. It was finally Friday after a long day of reviewing for finals the following week. Turning the corner of the long hallway, he was thoroughly surprised to see what awaited him at the elevator doors.

"Bailey, what are you doing here?" Erik was more confused, than surprised. "Shouldn't you be with dancer boy?" Erik pressed the elevator button, watching the blonde carefully.

"I came to ask you to lunch." Erik peered down at her hand which still fashioned his engagement ring. "I would have called, but I dropped my phone and the screen shattered. Hair stylists don't make much money, you know." Erik held the large metal doors open for her as she kindly thanked him, entering the elevator.

"Bailey, I can buy you a new phone." She shrugged. "You can always sell the ring, if you're short some money." Erik pointed to the engagement ring with his pinkie finger, which also fashioned his class ring.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually... Erik, you have to believe me when I say it was a complete accident." Erik rolled his eyes at the blonde as the elevator dinged. The doors opened into the foyer of the music building. He reluctantly gestured for her to walk ahead of him. "It wasn't supposed to end up like this, me being pregnant..." Erik froze in his tracks, turning towards the blonde. His blood was boiling.

"It wasn't supposed to end up like this?" Erik actually laughed at how stupid that statement sounded. "You're right, Bailey. It wasn't. We were supposed to be married in three months, on the cliff side. We were the ones that were supposed to have a baby, not you and dancer boy. I don't know how you ever thought I would be understanding of this situation, Bailey." Erik turned on his heel and began to walk away, leaving the blonde in the dust behind him. Her broken voice echoed with fright.

"I thought you were cheating on me, Erik! I went to him for comfort and instead I came back with a baby, Erik."

Erik shut his eyes, breathed in sharply, and cursed the day he continued reading the essay.

"Before the convention, I went to a zumba class and I was especially sad that day. You were never home and when I called the school, they told me that you had been staying after school to tutor students - female students. I called around some more and finally ended up talking to your colleague, Professor Guidicelli. She told me that she saw you privately tutor this one student, in your classroom, alone... Just the two of you. I got scared and I started crying. He... He just so happened to be there and he asked me what was wrong... Then..." Bailey was shaking. Erik's head was reeling.

"Who was the student? The name of the student I was tutoring? Did Carlotta - Professor Guidicelli give you a name?" Erik spit fired his questions at the blonde. She was widely confused at his defensive mannerisms.

"I don't remember, Erik." The masked man neared the blonde, closing the space between them.

"Professor Guidicelli gave you a name, I know it. She's just that kind of woman." Erik narrowed his mismatched eyes. "What name did she give you, Bailey? I need to know, I don't want this student getting a bad reputation." Bailey tried her best to remember.

"Carly... Kimberly... Cassidy..." Bailey started listing of names with the same sounds. Erik was growing impatient as the woman slowly sealed his fate. "Quincy?... Quinn! Quinn, her name was Quinn. Quinn Cooper, that's the name that the professor gave me." Erik could have sworn his knees gave out in relief. She was safe. "Who is she, Erik?" Bailey's tone turned cold, harsh. Erik didn't care.

"She is an English student of mine, she's not very good at writing essays. I helped her on her midterm and she wanted the same help for her final. She's ditsy, doesn't have a very long attention span." Erik began walking once more across the quad. He just wanted to get off campus. "Why do you care so much about who I tutor?"

"I don't care about who you tutor, Erik. I care about who you sleep with, when it's not with me."

"Obviously, my standards in this relationship were much lower." Erik seethed as he thought of his pregnant ex. He was walking much faster now. "I just didn't know I had low standards until you came and rained on my parade."

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Erik laughed loudly as he searched for his car in the teacher's lot. "It's alright if you do, Erik."

"No, I do not have a girlfriend, Bailey. I was engaged. I took it fairly seriously." Erik sighed loudly as he approached his car. "Bailey, the truth is that you're pregnant with someone else's child. You need to be with him to raise that child. I will be just fine. Sell the ring to get some seed money and if you ever need anything, I'll always be at the school. It's unfair to punish an innocent child that hasn't even taken it's first fresh breath of air." Erik opened the passenger door with a soft smile. "Let me drive you to you car, okay?"

"Okay. Erik, just know that I don't want to end this engagement. I want to remain your fiancée."

"I wanted you to remain my fiancée as well."

Erik plopped down onto the queen bed, immersing himself in the wool blankets. Soon, the heat of another body joined him at his torso. Tiny arms wrapped themselves around his waist, her face burying into his soft neck, leaving a trail of barely there kisses. Her scent was intoxicating, her touch invigorating. He never wished to leave her side.

"I'm thinking about quitting my job." He finally spoke out, his eyes closed as he took in her angelic presence. She took a deep breath. "I've taught for a long time now, I think I want to compose again."

"Really?" Christine smiled widely at her teacher, intertwining their fingers together. "If you go back to composing, you could compose a song for my birthday. It's on Christmas, you know." She giggled a harmonious laugh.

"You're a Christmas baby?" Christine nodded fervently. "Maybe I will write something for you, my Christmas baby." She blushed a bright red. "What kind of song would you like, kitten?"

"I want something we can dance to on Christmas morning. I've always wanted to dance with someone on Christmas morning." Her voice was tender, gentle like the first snowfall. "My mom went into labor on Christmas Eve and she was sure she was going to have me on Christmas Eve. I guess I've just always been difficult." Christine let out a nervous chuckle. Erik gathered the tiny ballerina into his arms, her curls tickling his chin. With a kiss to her forehead, the emanating warmth that gathered between them seemed to calm her heightened nerves.

"No, Christine, sweetheart. You were a Christmas miracle. Anyone is lucky to have you on any day of the year."

The couple sat in silence for a moment as Christine wiped a few stray tears with the back of her hand. She sniffled some more, finally getting herself put back together. With a deep breath, she looked up at the masked man.

"What do you want for Christmas, Erik?" The masked man pondered for a moment.

He cupped the ballerina's face in his large hands, connecting their lips in an intimate kiss, the taste of his lips enticing Christine to no end. His hands wandered down to her taut thighs, his fingertips grazing her strong thighs. She shivered beneath his touch as he lazily pulled his t-shirt off of her, her pale skin glowing in the candelit apartment room. He took a moment to look upon the goddess underneath him as he sat on his knees, taking off his own clothes. His thumbs traced circles on her hips, falling loosely to her womanhood, pressing desperately to her budding clit. Christine bit her lip as she watched attentively to the man whose focus was elsewhere. Erik bent down, his swelled lips finding her stomach. He was in infinite bliss.

"The only thing I want is you." Erik breathed against her skin, his mismatched eyes glancing up towards Christine. She sat up for a moment, surprising Erik at the least. Leaning forward, she removed the porcelain mask. He gasped as the cold air hit the charred skin, his breathing sharp and sporadic. Christine smiled, running her fingertips gingerly on the leathery skin as Erik nuzzled his cheek into her angelic touch. With one last smile, Christine placed a feathery kiss on the lacerated cheek, her tiny hands working to wrap loosely around his neck. She never wanted to part.

"Now, you have me."

Erik awoke early out of habit. Trudging to the bathroom, he turned on the shower and waited for the hot water to come through. Christine's shower was impeccably slow at retrieving heated water. Erik peered out of the cracked door to check on the sleeping angel who laid deep in slumber, tangled in the blankets. Erik couldn't help, but smile to himself. As he smiled, the marred side of his face felt a sting of pain. Reaching to feel his deformed cheek, he couldn't feel any difference. He sighed as he approached the mirror. There was a tiny cut. Erik thought to himself. He probably scratched his cheek in his sleep. Erik argued with himself for several moments. Finally deciding that his face was more important, he nervously opened the mirrored cabinet in Christine's bathroom.

"Anti-depressants..." Erik understood as he quickly moved along, searching for Neosporin or ointment for cuts. "Tampons..." Erik cringed as he sifted through various bottles of hair care treatment, toothpaste, and makeup. He actually recognize most of the hair care products. Stumbling upon the most interesting bottle that was hidden on the top shelf, Erik's more than perfect eye sight wasn't failing him. "Camouflage makeup?" Erik turned the bottle to read the details. "It covers tattoos, blemishes... and scars-"

"Erik?" The professor jumped as he turned suddenly to see Christine sitting up in bed.

"Christine, go back to sleep, kitten." His heart was beating rapidly. "I'm just going to take a shower." Christine fell onto the bed and drifted back into a deep sleep. Erik shook his head to clear his head. Focusing his attention back onto the bottle in his hand, he noticed that it was almost finished. Looking up towards the top shelf, he moved the other bottles to make room for the cover up makeup, only to find five or six more bottles of the camouflage makeup. Erik didn't want to pry anymore. Shutting the cabinet, he stripped himself of his pajama pants and hopped into the shower, now scalding hot. One can never get it just right.

After his shower, he found Christine in her kitchen, making two cups of tea, singing a small French tune.

"Good morning, kitten." Erik had finally found the ointment after his shower, the gel stinging his wound. "How was your night?"

"Fine, just fine." She purred as she placed a kiss on his shoulder. "I made you some tea." Erik scanned the girl, noticing that she was wearing long sleeves and sweatpants. He had never seen her in sweatpants before. "Honey and lemon or sugar and cream?"

"Honey and lemon, kitten." Christine placed the bottle of honey and bowl of sliced lemons on the tray, walking over to Erik who had taken a seat on the couch next to the fat cat. "Are you cold, kitten?"

"No, it's hot in here, but my throat was a bit sore." She shrugged her shoulders and brought over her cup of tea. "André looks exhausted from doing nothing all night." Christine giggled as she brought the teacup to her plush lips. Taking a sip of hot tea, she smiled happily.

"If you're hot, why don't you put on one of my shirts or something?" Christine froze. "You'd be more comfortable, kitten." Christine shook her head, pulling the blanket on top of her. She wrapped the large university blanket around her tiny figure, earning a content meow from the cat. She looked down and blinked incessantly.

"I'm fine, thanks." She answered tersely. With another sip of her tea, she sat up and looked at Erik with fire through her glasses, her breathing erratic and shallow. "By the way, next time you need a first aid kit, ask me first and don't go searching through my stuff."

"I'm-"

"I don't go to your house and search through your things. I don't go over to Bailey and ask questions about your engagement or past. I'm sure I'd find a great deal of secrets on The Great Literré."

A/N: Short chapter, but I will keep updating tonight to make up for lost time.

:)

Thank you my dears.