Chapter 9-Declaration
Christine studied Erik as he slept, knowing that these moments would be the only times she would be able to do so without him thinking she was disgusted by him. His parted lips moved silently every few moments and his brows furrowed occasionally as if he were dreaming. As to not wake him, she very gently brought her hand up and touched the exposed skull near his temple, lightly brushing her fingers along the outer edge where the smooth skin puckered. Then, she trailed farther down to the thin yellowed skin of his cheek before cupping it in her hand and leaning in to place her lips lightly against his.
How could his mother not love this perfect man? That witch didn't deserve such a wonderful gift from God. If Christine had been given such a beautiful son, she would have cherished him and loved him despite his deformity. It was no wonder Erik was suffering, his own mother, the one woman who was destined to love him unconditionally, had rejected him.
If she ever comes near him again, she will have Hell to pay, Christine thought.
Erik stirred slightly and mumbled something incoherent before pulling her closer to his chest. She froze in his arms, worried that she had accidentally woken him up, but after a moment his snores returned and she relaxed into him.
Her stomach started growling and she realized she hadn't eaten since the picnic, so she slowly moved from Erik's grasp and out of the bed, then she returned to her room and decided on a quick bath before getting dressed for the day.
After her bath, she dressed in a simple green dress and headed to the kitchen to make Erik breakfast. Her experience in a kitchen was limited but she was confident in her ability to follow a recipe, so she rifled through the drawers and cabinets in search of any recipe books Erik may have stashed away. There were no books, but she found a small piece of paper that looked to have been heavily used. Her eyes skimmed over the five-ingredient recipe and she smiled, it was a dish she had prepared before and the results had been more than satisfactory. She only hoped Erik would like them.
The ingredients were easy enough to find and within the next half hour, she had enough crepes to feed an entire family. For the toppings, she whipped some sugar and cream, then crushed some raspberries. Once she was content that everything was perfect, she decided to wake up Erik.
Christine rushed up the stairs and to his room and as she opened the door, it dawned on her that she had never closed it and when she looked up from the handle, her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat.
Erik stood completely naked and was in the process of pushing his arms through the sleeves of a shirt. Uncomfortable silence fell over them, but neither made an effort to move, they simply just stared at each other. He had a strange look on his face, somewhere between lust and embarrassment and she had a feeling that she was wearing the same expression.
The thrumming within her chest increased and she felt a deep blush overtake her face. She wanted to turn away, to hide her obvious mortification from the prying eyes of the naked man across from her. A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed hard trying to force it back into her, all the while begging herself to leave, but she couldn't move. The same was not to be said for her eyes though, as they traveled on their own free will, trailing down his body and examining his lightly muscled arms and chest. He was beautiful, she wanted to worship him, kiss every part of his body and fall to his feet, swearing her devotion to him as a man and not the Angel of Music.
Slowly, her eyes made their way down to his manhood, but before they made a connection, she let out a quiet whimper and stopped herself. Not because she didn't want to see him, but because she felt unworthy. Who was she to enter his room without announcing herself first and gaze upon him in such a defenseless state?
With a trembling breath, she shot her gaze back up and found Erik smiling at her with a look of hubris, and he slowly finished pushing his arms through the shirt sleeves, never once looking away from her. Christine felt as if she was going to faint and she stammered over a few words in an attempt to say something, anything to break the trance she was in and finally she was able to make a complete sentence.
"Breakfast is ready," then she tore her eyes from his and turned on her heel to rush down the hallway.
Heat boiled her skin as she all but ran back to the kitchen to turn her attention back towards breakfast. She stood over the plate of crepes, staring blankly at them, cursing herself for not knocking before entering Erik's bedroom. Of course a closed door meant making oneself known before entering, but she had been so excited to see Erik, she had simply forgotten her manners.
With a defeated sigh, she busied herself with plating the crepes, being sure to add extra to Erik's plate, then she placed them on the breakfast table next to the cups of tea she had poured earlier.
She took a seat in her chair and waited for what she was sure to be an awkward breakfast. Her hands folded in her lap and she focused her wide eyes on her food as she fought hard not to think about what had just transpired.
Her mind strayed regardless and Erik invaded her mind, the image of his naked body burned into her soul. She was nearly salivating thinking of how beautiful his slim yet muscular body had been in the brief moment she had to view it. She wanted to touch him, to feel the smoothness of his skin moving against hers in the throes of passion. A deep throbbing pain formed within her and she shifted uncomfortably, trying to get rid of it, but it was no use, the intensity had already become too much to bear.
Quiet steps from just outside the kitchen pulled Christine from her lust-filled thoughts and she straightened in her chair, waiting for the inevitable agonizing breakfast with Erik. The steps faded into silence, as if they had paused just outside of the kitchen and soft mumbles replaced them. After a full minute of dread, he emerged, his face was flushed and he avoided her gaze.
An awkward smile formed on his lips, "Good morning, my love."
"To you as well, now please, sit, I made you breakfast," Christine shakily said, returning his smile and gesturing to the plate she had set across from her. Perhaps, he wasn't going to mention her blunder from just minutes ago and pretend as if nothing had happened. At least, that is what she hoped for.
He looked down at the plate and smiled, pulling out the chair and sitting down, "You made me breakfast? And, my favorite at that."
"I did, yes," she returned his smile, feeling the air around them become more pleasant.
It was the perfect start to the day she was going to confess her love to him, after all, her father always told her that if you love someone, you make them breakfast. It was silly and she was sure he had only said so to tease her, but she was hopelessly romantic and that little piece of guidance had always stuck with her. She only hoped that Erik hadn't forgotten that she had told him.
He frowned, "I thought one of my tasks was to make you breakfast every morning. Do you not enjoy what I prepare for you?"
Christine rubbed her forearm under the table, trying to soothe her still burning skin, "I do very much, I just felt like relieving you of the duty today."
Erik smiled up at her, cutting a piece of his crepe, "Well, thank you," he popped it in his mouth and he seemed surprised, "These are delicious. It seems you have a hidden talent, where did you learn to cook so well?"
She grinned with pride, taking a bite of her own food, "There was a recipe in the drawer. It seemed simple enough, but I have hardly ever cooked, in fact I think this is the only dish I even feel confident preparing."
"We will have to change that, I can teach you if you would like? How to cook, I mean–in case I am ever not here to do so," Erik placed another piece of crepe in his mouth and chewed slowly.
"It would be nice to have another skill besides singing. I was raised singing and dancing, so I don't know much about keeping a house, though I am getting pretty good at doing laundry. I haven't burnt any of your shirts while doing the ironing since the end of last month!" she said proudly.
Erik looked up from his food, "Today is the third, my love."
Christine glared at him, "Don't mock me, besides, if I hadn't taken up your laundry then it would have never been done."
"I meant no offense, and I thank you for everything you do for me. Without you, I wouldn't know how to survive," he chuckled and turned back to his food.
"You survived alright for years, but I'm glad I am here with you. I haven't been this happy since my father died," she looked down and ate another bite of her food, chewing slowly.
"I make you happy?" Erik questioned, sounding almost as if he couldn't believe it.
Christine nodded quickly, "Yes, very much. You are very good to me, Erik and I'm glad you made the decision to steal me away that night, even though it was dangerous and irrational."
Erik leaned back in his chair and grinned, "If anyone was in danger it was that bo—" he paused and mumbled under his breath before continuing, "I am very happy as well. Never in my life have I imagined that I would live in the daylight with the most beautiful woman in all of France, I dare say, the entire world."
Heat flushed her face and she tucked her hair behind her ear, "You flatter me."
"I can assure you, my praise is genuine," he whispered.
Christine peeked at him through her lashes, thinking of anything she could say to change the subject, "So, these cooking lessons, will they be before or after our music lessons?"
"After. Singing on a full stomach inhibits the necessary means to control your breathing," he paused and laughed, "I know this is going to be rather contradictory, but what would you say if I asked you to sing for me after breakfast? I dreamed of your voice last night and I am finding myself unable to stop thinking about it," Erik asked, finishing the last of his crepes.
Christine nodded, "Alright, what should we practice?"
Erik leaned back in his chair, his hands folded on the table, "You can choose today, I will simply listen without instruction."
She looked away from him and focused on her crepes, eating a small bite before looking back up at him. He had never asked her to just sing before. Their lessons had always been under strict instruction and he always provided the scores, but this time, he wanted none of that. It would be like a private performance for the man she loved and she would do her best to please him.
It was the perfect chance to profess her love, to give him the greatest gift she was capable of giving. She would need to choose something to entice him, something sensual that was sure to be the perfect song to show her love and she knew just the one.
"I would love nothing more and I know just the song," Christine whispered, "Now, let me clear the table and I will meet you at the piano."
Erik didn't move, his eyes trained on her lips. Maybe he wanted to kiss her?
After a moment, he reached forward, trailing his thumb along her lower lip before swiping at the corner of her mouth. A trail of fire was left on her lips and Christine shuddered as she watched him pull his hand away. A spot of cream came away with his thumb and he slowly stuck it in his mouth, sucking the cream away while he held her attention with his eyes.
A shiver ran up Christine's spine and she had to clench her thighs together to stop the ache from returning. She licked her lips, fighting off the urge to lunge across the table and kiss him, she needed to remain calm so she could sing for him. But, a kiss wouldn't hurt, would it?
Before she could act on the urge, Erik stood and pushed in his chair, "I shall await you then, my dear," and he was gone.
Christine sat for a moment, staring at the empty seat across from her, thinking about her missed opportunity. Then she stood and quickly washed the dishes and cleaned up her mess from making breakfast. Once the kitchen was nearly spotless, she hurried to the parlor to meet Erik.
When she arrived, he was already at the piano, playing a simple melody and looking devastatingly handsome.
A bout of nervousness came over her and she began trembling. She had never felt this way when singing with Erik, perhaps it was because he wouldn't be instructing her this time so she wouldn't know if she was making any mistakes. After a few deep breaths, she cleared her throat, announcing her presence to the angel that sat at the piano.
"What song will it be, my love?" Erik questioned as he turned to face her, dancing his fingers along the keys enthusiastically. Though he surely didn't mean to produce an adequate tune, it still sounded angelic. She knew him well enough to know that he would never allow any mediocre music to be played by his hand.
"Tannhäuser, Venus' aria from the first act," Christine stated, it was romantic and sensual just as she needed it to be if she was going to attempt seduction after confessing her love.
"Excellent choice. Let me know when you are ready," he whispered.
Christine cleared her throat, "My teacher would be upset with me for not warming up my voice," she giggled, seeing a smile spread on Erik's face, "I'm ready."
The first few notes filled the air and Christine began her performance, knowing she had to do her best for Erik. She had never wanted anything more than for her voice to be perfect for him, so she closed her eyes and let the music take her.
Come, beloved, see yonder grotto,
filled with rosy fragrance gently wafting!
That abode of sweetest delight would offer
enchantment even to a god.
Christine opened her eyes when she heard a shuddering breath from Erik. Her gaze landed upon him and she could tell he was struggling to keep his composure as his hands swept effortlessly over the keys. She needed to touch him, to feel his skin on hers, so she placed her hands on his shoulders before slowly running her fingers up through his hair. In response, he leaned his head back onto her chest, his fingers still moving in perfect remembrance.
Lulled on the downiest of cushions
let every hurt fly from your limbs,
Her hands moved down his chest, onto his bare skin and she leaned down, placing a light kiss on his neck before continuing.
Let coolness fan your burning brow,
blissful ardor swell heart.
From the pleasant distance, sweet sound usage
my arm to enfold you in closest embrace:
from my lips, my gaze,
you sip nectar divine
The music stopped suddenly and her hands were in a vice grip pressed against his chest, the heat from his bare skin was enough to cause a falter in her voice, but she pushed on anyways, not caring that he had stopped guiding her voice.
The reward of love sparkles for you:
a feast of delight shall arise from our union.
The trembling man she pressed against let out a low groan and brought her hands up to his mouth, kissing each finger before sliding his lips to her wrist. She smiled. Her attempt at seduction had worked and after her song, she would confess her love and allow him to make love to her. She moved her mouth back down to his neck and continued her serenade.
Let us joyfully celebrate the festival of love!
You must not dedicate a timid offering to it
revel in union with the goddess of love!
Christine joined him on the bench as she concluded the final note, then her arms were around his neck and she crushed her lips to his. Erik roughly grabbed each side of her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks before moving to her neck. He groaned deeply and trailed his tongue along her lower lip, a silent beckoning to deepen the kiss. And, she did not want to disappoint, she granted his access while adjusting her position on the bench so she was on her knees next to him.
A tremor wracked her body when his hand cupped one of her breasts and squeezed it lightly, stirring the ache between her thighs. Without breaking the kiss, she moved on top of him, wrapping her legs around him and tearing at his shirt. He released her neck and moved to help her then discarded the unwanted garment behind them.
Her urgent hands explored his bare chest and down to his stomach, relishing in the smooth skin she had been yearning to touch since walking in on him dressing. He shuddered under her touch and gripped her hips, grinding her against the bulge in his jeans.
"Erik," she whimpered against his lips.
A chilling growl filled the parlor and she let out a cry of ecstasy as she met the movement of his hips. She desperately clung to him, digging her nails into his back, fearing that she would simply die if he let her go. Her entire being, her soul, her spirit belonged to him and she longed for him to accept them. To take her flesh in his hands and claim it for himself, to speak immoral words in her ear as he took her, penetrate her body and soul for his pleasure. She craved him, his scent, his taste more than life itself. More than music.
Erik pushed her up onto the piano, following her with his own body, an ungodly sound of numerous keys playing at once reverberated through her but the vibrations shot up her body in a rapturous way. He grunted as he tore down the front of her dress, freeing her breasts and taking one of her hardened nipples into his mouth. His tongue swirled around it before he sucked with such intensity that she felt she would implode. It was a lascivious feeling and she wanted more, so she grasped his free hand and placed it on her other breast. He frantically took the nipple in between his fingers and pinched lightly, rolling the bud in his fingertips.
Christine's head fell back against the piano and she bucked wildly against his hips as he lavished her breasts. The ache between her thighs radiated through her pelvic region and she needed to satiate it.
"Erik, please, take me," she whispered into the air around them.
He roughly thrust his hips against her sex, giving an affirming grunt and picked her up from the piano, wrapping her legs around himself. Wet lips overtook hers in a feverish, sloppy kiss as he carried her to one of the two couches in the parlor. He took no time to gently set her down, instead he tossed her and she fell back against the couch hard, but, God, she loved it.
Christine reached down, bunching the skirts of her dress up to her waist, giving him a spot to settle in but he didn't join her as she wanted. Rather, he hovered over her, pushing a knee between her legs and up to her vulva where he set a steady rhythm against her. The dark, hungry eyes of her lover bore into hers as she moaned uncontrolled, breathy gasps into the air between them.
"Look at what I do to you, Christine," he rasped, as one of his hands trailed down to her calf, lifting it so her ankle was hooked on the back of the couch.
The fabric of her pantalettes roughly ground into her sensitive flesh and she let out a cry of bliss, which Erik drowned with his lips. He kissed her with such crushing force that a stinging pain formed, but she didn't care, this is what she wanted. The gentility of their union did not matter, though it would be her first time, there was something lecherous about her need for him and she knew he could feel it as well.
The knee between her thigh worked faster and Christine threw her arms around Erik's neck as she lurched up into him. Her release was building quickly and something about it was different, her breathing was carnal and she pushed his head back down to her breasts where he once again latched onto one and sucked viciously. His ministrations elevated her pleasure and tremors pierced her body as she neared the precipice of their activities. Just then, he focused his attention on her other nipple, his tongue circling the point as his eyes flickered up to meet hers.
The corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk as he took it fully into his mouth, the torturous feeling nearly being her undoing. Then, a featherlight touch on her stomach caused her to lurch into him again and a dark chuckle filled the room. His fingers trailed the waistband of her pantalettes and the ache increased to a point of pure pain. The knee settled between her legs halted its movement and she let out a whimper at the loss, but was instantly relieved to find that his hand had pushed its way into her pantalettes and was grazing downwards ever so slowly. Tauntingly.
Erik groaned as his fingers connected with the soft curls that crowned her sex, shoving his face into her neck and savelgy kissing and biting her earlobe. Christine fought the urge to buck into him, wanting him to feel her on his own volition. She waited in anticipation, licking her lips and clawing his back, whispering his name over and over again.
A shudder overtook his body and he let out a choked gasp as he drew a single finger up the length of her undoubtedly slick slit, finally resting on the bud of pleasure she ached for him to find. His pressure was light at first, hardly enough for her to enjoy, but then he applied more, sending sparks of white light into her vision.
"Please, don't stop, I'm–" she pleaded, but she couldn't finish her sentence as he had abruptly moved away from her.
Christine sat up quickly, looking around for him, finding him sitting on the piano bench, hunched over and glowering at her. She pulled the top of her dress back up to cover herself, confused and hurt as to why he had stopped.
"Erik, I'm sorry. If I did something wrong, please, forgive me," she begged. God, what had she done to make him stop? Had she hurt him by accident?
"What game are you playing at, Christine? You say you don't love me, yet you were all but begging me to take you. As a good Catholic girl, you surely wouldn't want someone you don't love to fuck you. So what is it, Christine? Please, I am dying to know what you are thinking about in that little head of yours," he moved, picking up his shirt and pushing his arms back through the sleeves.
Christine was taken aback by his use of language, having never heard him curse before and she stared at him with wide eyes, tears brimming her water line.
"I am not playing a game, Erik, I–" she started.
He quickly crossed to the couch and knelt beside her, "Then what? You are killing me, Christine, every moment that I spend with you, I feel as if I am going to combust–you tempt me every day. You do not understand my desire for you–how terribly difficult it was for me to stop. It's painful, Christine, what you do to me is painful. I cannot even begin to express how badly I need you," his speech was urgent and scrambled as if he was struggling to find the right words. Tears fell from his eyes as he scanned her face, then he gripped her hand roughly in his and wrapped it around the bulge in his trousers. It was large and very hard, like steel.
She looked up at him, tears wavering on her waterline, trying to find any words to speak but all that escaped her mouth was stammered incoherency.
"I burn for you, Christine," he hissed through his teeth.
Her eyes flickered down to their hands, "But, I–" she whispered finally being able to speak.
"I cannot be here right now, I am finding it hard to control myself, please, go to your room and I will come to you when I am ready," he released her hand and it fell limply to her side.
Christine watched as he disappeared up the stairs and jumped at the sound of a slamming door. What had she done? Why didn't she tell him she loved him before their tryst? Now he thought she was using him, playing a game when she was not doing anything of the sort.
She curled her knees to her chest and sobbed. Perhaps, if she went to him and talked to him, but he didn't want to see her, not until he was ready, so she obeyed his command and ran up to her room. She locked herself inside and sat on the edge of her bed, nervously combing her fingers through her tangled curls as she thought about him. His eyes that had looked at her with such adoration, had changed to painful betrayal within mere moments. Her stomach lurched at the thought of him feeling such a way and she layed on her side, hugging herself and rubbing her arms.
Just then, a door slammed downstairs and shook the window in her room. She shot up from the bed and looked outside. There was movement at the stables and she saw Erik sloppily tacking up Cesar. He was wearing his mask and wig, and was speaking loudly, though the speech was muffled so she couldn't make out what he was saying.
Was he leaving her? Was he going to come back? She couldn't lose him, he couldn't run away from her, she refused to allow that to happen. She tore from her room and sprinted down the hallway to the stairs which she practically flew down and landed in the entrance hall. She caught sight of a note propped up on the table by the front door, labeled with her name in Erik's usual scrawl. Her heart dropped and she imagined the words written inside.
A goodbye.
Christine ripped her eyes away from the note and rushed to the backdoor, donning her cloak and stepped out into the cool morning air, hoping he hadn't gotten too far yet. She rapidly searched the surrounding area for any sign of him, and in the distance, she saw him. He was too far away to call out to him, so in a scramble, she hurried towards Beauty and groaned when she realized the mare was not saddled. Unfortunately, she wasn't strong enough to tack Beauty up herself, so she would need to ride her without a saddle.
The post Beauty was tied to had a connecting fence so she untied the mare and rotated her, climbing up the fence to a point where she could easily settle onto her. Pulling the reins up into her hands, Christine urged Beauty forward, steering her towards the fading figure of the man she so desperately needed to apologize to.
The unfamiliar forest around her was almost overwhelming and she was sure she would be lost if she didn't have the distant sight of Erik ahead of her. She urged her horse faster and faster, hoping the youth of Beauty wouldn't be a detriment to her mission, after all, she was only two years old. But, the mare did not disappoint, just as Erik had said, she was strong, much more so than the mare Raoul had her ride. After a short time, the trees started to look familiar to her and she knew where she was.
The pond.
Christine slowed Beauty as she knew she would be breaking the treeline to the clearing any moment, and soon, she found Cesar. The stallion was tied up a little way from the pond so Christine stopped next to him and hopped down from Beauty, tying her up next to Cesar.
A shiver ran up Christine's spine as her ears picked up on the earth-shattering sobs that were sounding through the trees. She slowly approached the pond and glanced around, looking for Erik. Her eyes landed on him in the grass in the exact spot they had sat for their picnic. He was curled into a ball and trembling violently as he choked for breath.
Poor Erik, what have I done to you? she thought to herself, as she quietly approached him. She knelt down next to him and debated on if she should touch him or just sit with him until he noticed her.
With a trembling hand, she reached out and hovered over his shoulder with uncertainty, "Erik?"
He stopped moving completely, "Go home, Christine."
"No, I–" she started.
"I just need to be alone. Did you not read my letter?" he choked. She could tell he was holding back the sobs that threatened to escape him.
Had she been wrong to assume the contents of the letter?
She twisted her hair in her hands, "I–I assumed it was a goodbye letter, so I didn't open it, I couldn't allow you to leave me, not when–" she paused debating on if it was the right time to confess her love.
Erik slowly looked up at her, "Not when what?"
His eyes were swollen and his mask was askew, hardly even covering what it was made to cover. His lips were parted and he was breathing heavier than she had ever imagined a person could. She reached out and placed her hand on his mask, wanting to remove it, but he caught her and moved her hand away from him, then slowly sat up, facing his body towards her.
Tell him, she heard in her mind.
Christine swallowed hard and met his eyes, "Well, I–I wanted to tell you after the aria but everything happened so fast, I just–"
Erik's eyes widened and tears streamed down his face again, "What are you saying, Christine?"
She took one of his hands in hers, holding it in her lap, and reached back up to his mask. He allowed her to remove it and she gazed upon the beautiful face that was hidden behind it. She smiled and ran her hand down the thin skin and caressed his cheek.
"I am hopelessly in love with you, Erik," she looked down at their hands, "Of course, I am somewhat of a romantic and wanted to do this differently but I–" her words were cut off by a grip on the back of her neck.
Urgent lips covered hers and a whimper filled her mouth as she deepened the kiss. She parted her lips and tasted the saltiness of his tears on her tongue, then released his hand and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him tighter against herself.
With a whimper, he pulled away, pressing his forehead against hers. His breaths came out strained, the hot air warming her face and neck.
"Say it again, please," he whispered, running his thumb along her bottom lip.
"I love you, Erik," she breathed, leaning into his touch.
With a deep shuddering breath, he collapsed against her and he clung to her, to every single bit of her, grasping for whatever he could before his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. His face buried into her chest, his tears wet the front of her dress as he choked out sobs.
Christine held him in her arms, running her hand down his back in an attempt to soothe him. She hadn't meant to make him cry and seeing him in such a state pained her. She wished she could kiss away all of his tears, absorb his hurt and drown it within herself.
"Are you alright?" she asked him.
His head moved up and down on her chest, a nod, then his lips brushed along the skin above her breasts before he placed his cheek against her, "Quite alright, better than ever, my love," he whispered, his voice steady despite the sobs that had previously overcame him.
She tightened her hold on him and pressed her forehead into his wig, "I'm sorry for earlier, I didn't intend to upset you. I—"
"No," he interrupted, placing kisses on her chest, "you did nothing wrong. I should be the one apologizing. My behavior was highly inappropriate and I allowed my temper to get the best of me. Forgive me for failing you, my love."
She placed a lingering kiss on his unmasked temple, "It's alright, I forgive you."
Erik released her waist and brought his face up to hers, "I love you, my Christine."
"I love you," she repeated, gazing into the depths of his eyes. She placed a light kiss on his lips and moved to sit on her knees and he followed suit.
She clumsily climbed to her feet, brushing the grass and dirt from her dress, but he remained kneeling in front of her, his eyes following her face.
"Should we go home? It's–" she started but was taken aback when he threw himself at her again, this time wrapping his arms around her thighs and placing his cheek against her dress.
"I am your servant, I devote myself to you. For as long as I live, I will do anything in my power to provide for you, to give you everything you desire, everything you have ever dreamed of. Children, music, merely speak the words and they are yours. I am yours, Christine. Please, just never leave me, don't leave me," Erik begged, his pleading desperate and urgent.
Christine shakily smiled and felt tears welling in her eyes but she quickly swept them away, "Stand up."
He immediately obeyed and stood straight up in front of her, his arms straight at his sides. She reached up and cupped his face in her hands, stretching up on the tips of her toes.
"Anything I want?" she questioned.
Erik nodded quickly, "I promise."
She brought her face up to his and whispered, "Kiss me."
Erik settled his hands on her neck, running his thumbs over her cheeks dotingly, staring into her eyes with complete adoration. Christine felt as if she would melt against him and sighed as she leaned into his touch, returning his look.
Their lips connected in a fiery passion and Christine placed her hands on Erik's chest, knotting his shirt in her fists to pull him closer. She could stay there forever, in the throes of fervor with the man she loved, consuming him as he did her.
He broke the kiss and smiled down at her, "I never–I didn't once let myself hope that you would love me. I have to admit, I don't quite know what to do now that you are mine."
Christine returned his smile then laid her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around him, "Take me home."