Erik stumbled around for hours, his mind nothing more than a hazy whirlwind of what ifs and horrifying scenarios. He was terrified. If the baby looked like him, Christine would hate him forever. Even if she'd somehow learned how to tolerate looking at him, this was different. Very much so.
Having a child that looked like him would be a burden on her. She'd have to find a way to shield them from constant stares and other potentially scarring things. Could she bring herself to love a baby like him? He'd like to believe so but even a woman like Christine had her limits.
Not only that, but he had not a clue how to be a father. He'd never known his father. Not really. The man was nothing more than a name to him, having died before he was born.
What if he screwed it up? What if his own flesh and blood was utterly and completely scared of him? He wouldn't be surprised if they were. After all, everyone was. Even Christine had been. She could deny it all she wanted, but he'd seen that look on her face when she'd first seen it. She'd been scared and disgusted, which was much worse.
A heavy sigh left his lips and he raised a hand to drag it down the unmasked side of his face. He was going to lose his mind if he didn't find a way to stop dwelling on it. Anyone would. Yet all the same, he was used to being tormented by his own thought process.
He had nearly passed by the inn again when something occured to him. Christine was in a new country and carrying his child. As if that wasn't stressful enough, she thought he'd abandoned her. He would be surprised if she didn't think that. It wasn't as if he'd tried to explain himself before he left after all.
He couldn't. He didn't know how to put this into words. But he had to at least try. There was no other option. He could only hope that he wouldn't regret his vulnerability. He braced himself and headed inside.
Christine's heart had nearly shattered when she opened her eyes to see him walking out the door. That was the thing that she'd been worried would happen. That he'd abandon her. But she couldn't allow herself to believe that was what he'd actually done. She'd like to think that he'd have the decency to at least tell her to her face.
Even so...his track record in this regard wasn't the greatest. He'd tried to leave her without a word back in France as well. The only reason that hadn't happened was because she'd stopped him. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but the longer she tried the harder it became. She tried not to think about it, curling in on herself slightly as she wrapped her arms around her stomach protectively. The occasional sniffle left her.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when someone knocked on the door a few minutes later. She looked over hopefully but it died down the moment she saw Antionette enter. She turned away and refused to meet the older woman's eyes.
Antionette heaved a sigh and approached the bed, wrapping her arms around Christine. She tugged the younger woman into her side. She rubbed her back soothingly until it seemed like she'd calmed down enough. This was the moment that she chose to open her mouth and speak.
"You should've listened to me. You both should've. You'd be happier if you'd stayed in France with the vicomte." Antionette started, trailing off when she found herself looking down into an almost icy glare, if it weren't for the tears that lingered in Christine's eyes.
"No. No I wouldn't have. Because this would still be his baby. Please, shut the hell up." Christine snapped, though she made no attempt to pull away from her. She was stunned that she had the strength to silence the old woman, but she was proud of herself.
Antionette respect her wishes with a sigh, shaking her head slightly to show her disdain despite this. They'd be the death of each other. Either that or Christine would get tired of being patient and leave. When that happened, it would be up to her to pick up the shattered pieces of the masked man. A task that didn't seem as horrible as she wanted it to.
Erik headed for the room that he shared with Christine as soon as he entered the inn. When he reached it, he didn't even bother with knocking. He stopped short upon seeing Antionette. He glared at her, his misshapen lips curling into a snarl.
"Get out." He demanded harshly. The older woman huffed and rolled her eyes before pulling away from Christine. She knocked her shoulder into his before she exited the room to further express her displeasure at being spoken to in such a way.
Erik glared after her before turning his attention back to Christine. He noticed that she looked like she'd been crying and it caused the guilt that he already felt to increase. He opened and closed his mouth, searching for the best way to word his apology.
Before he could actually do so, Christine burst into tears again. She stood and rushed over to him. He braced himself for a slap, but it never came. She threw herself against him, small hands clenching the material of his suit. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, doing her best to press herself even closer. The sobs increased, causing her to tremble against him.
He immediately wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him. He alternated between rubbing her back and stroking her hair. "Sh... Calm down, Mon Coeur. Please." He implored in a gentle whisper. Being this upset wasn't good for the baby inside of her.
She nodded against him, not bothering to speak. It was more unlikely that she was simply unable to do so at that moment in time. He hummed a wordless tune and she slowly calmed down. The tears and the shaking subsided but she occasionally took a harder than normal breath.
"Please don't leave me..." Christine begged, pulling back slightly to peer up at him. It was the only thing that she could say in that moment. She wasn't too proud to beg. Even if she was, her pride had gone out the window the moment she threw herself in his arms.
"I won't.. I have no intentions of leaving you, I apologize for making you think that I did." He murmured tenderly, raising a hand to brush away the tears that lingered on her perfect cheek.
Christine leaned into his hand, relief written all over her face as she closed her eyes for a brief moment. It was almost as if she was bracing herself for something. She released her fistfuls of suit in favor of wrapping her arms around his waist. After a moment or two, she opened her eyes again.
"Then why? Why did you leave without a word? I'm not mad, but I do think I deserve an explanation for that." Christine informed, her tone leaving no room for argument. She wouldn't allow this to become an argument. It was a simple request, she liked to think.
Erik hesitated, biting his lower lip. What was the best way to word his mess of a thought process?