Meg seemed more at ease once she came to, assuring her that it didn't matter. Perhaps she was just relieved that her friend wasn't dead or something. Maybe she just bounced back quick.
There was also a chance that she just didn't want her to bring up the details again. It seemed a little more accurate but one could never tell with Meg.
Either way, Christine wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. She didn't want their friendship to be ruined just because of something as minor as being alive without a heartbeat.
She wasn't sure how much of this acceptance was truly her and how much was the guilt she felt for hurting Erik. But she refused to dwell on that.
"So...have you and your lover had any issues yet or are you still in the honeymoon phase?" Christine broached this topic much more delicately.
Meg hummed questioningly, tapping a slender finger against her chin. She gave up with a shrug a few moments later.
"It would depend on what you mean by issues. We haven't been in danger of ruining our relationship if that's what you mean." Meg finally explained.
Christine frowned, letting this answer sink. Had she damaged their relationship to that extent? She didn't like to think so. She also liked to think that Erik hadn't either.
They could move past this, if only she could get him to stick around for longer than a few minutes at a time.
"No...no. Nothing like that. I was thinking more along the lines of major arguments and the like." She clarified.
Meg's expression brightened and she bounced lightly on her cushion. It was rather confusing but she'd long since given up on trying to figure out Meg entirely.
Both the ballerina and Erik were more similar than they realized. They were both enigmas- though in entirely different ways. Yet she loved them and she probably always would.
"I know exactly how to help in that case. Especially if he's being stubborn. Follow me." Meg chirped, bouncing onto her feet.
She took her hand and she allowed her to drag her down the corridor. Truly, she wasn't worried about anyone seeing her. Even if they recognized her, they'd assume they were seeing a ghost.
No one would willingly admit to believing that someone came back from the dead. Not unless they wanted to be labeled mental.
She followed Meg until she stopped in front of the costume department. Meg went inside while motioning for her to wait.
Christine did so patiently, a bit apprehensive about where this was headed. Surely she wouldn't suggest anything too outrageous, right?
Meg returned holding the costume from Hannibal in her arms. The outfit was rather nice outside of the fact that it would be incredibly scandalous to wear it off stage. In public, at least. It showed far too much leg.
Meg didn't say anything. She just rushed back down the hall. Christine was quick to follow her, slamming the door shut behind them.
"Meg...what is all of this about?" She demanded, tilting her head to the side ever so slightly.
Meg giggled and held it up to her, as if ensuring that it was still a good size for her.
For a moment, she had an inkling as to the answer of her question. She brushed it off because she refused to entertain that notion.
"Wear this. Surprise him with it. I guarantee that he won't be difficult anymore." Meg suggested, wiggling her eyebrows playfully.
Christine opened her mouth once or twice before closing it with a click. She should absolutely be scandalized.
She should reject the idea immediately. But she couldn't and she didn't. It appealed to her greatly.
Why shouldn't it? It wasn't like propriety had ever mattered between her and Erik. It sure as hell didn't matter now.
Why would it? They were immortal. They'd probably see a time where this was the norm for couples. Might as well adjust to it now.
"Meg, I love the way that brain of yours thinks." Christine drawled, taking the costume.
Meg giggled once more and simply waved her away. She nearly skipped off.
Whether this would work or not was a problem for the future.
Erik headed back down to his home, an odd weight sitting in his stomach. The last thing that he wanted to do was this. Collecting Christine to help her feed was a source of distress.
Distress that he could easily get rid of if he didn't care about Chrisitne. But he couldn't be blamed for feeling this way. Not in the slightest.
He couldn't imagine many people actually wanted to be around those that hated them. It was always worse when that person was someone one cared about.
He could probably multiply that by ten given that Christine was all he had. It was nearly enough to make him regret turning Christine. Nearly being the keyword.
Erik could never regret saving her. Never. Not even with the threat of her hating him for the rest of her existence. At least she was still around to hate him.
"Christine... It's time to head out." Erik called, once he finally reached his destination.
He grew concerned when she didn't immediately answer. Perhaps she wasn't there? Rather than making a fool of himself by yelling again, he decided to check.
He checked every room except for the bedroom. He slowly approached the door and pushed it open.
What he saw caused his eyes to widened and for him to shift his weight. He loved what he saw but he couldn't come up with a reason for her to be waiting like that.
"Ange..." He breathed, his breath hitching when she slid out of bed.
Christine didn't answer, sashaying her way over to him. She rested her tiny hands on his chest and rubbed it gently.
He should look away or push her away. But he couldn't. He didn't want to and clearly she didn't want him to either. His breath hitched again as her hand slipped lower.
"Please stop ignoring me, Erik..." Christine nearly mewled, peering up at him through her eyelashes.
Fuck. He was absolutely fucked.