A/N: Here is another chapter! I split this one in two because it was far too long so the song for this chapter will span two chapters! The song for this chapter: "Crimson and Clover" - Tommy James (1968)
Chapter 4
There was much to be grateful for that night, but the thick, Southern heat was not one of them. Erik was already sweating profusely in anticipation of his date and, now, he was cursing the summertime weather as he anxiously leaned on the rear end of the Shelby. He had debated on testing his luck by going home to shower, though he doubted there was any chance to return before the end of Christine's shift. God, what was she going to think if he smelled of a pig pen? It would be the one time something other than his mask frightened someone away.
To keep from further catastrophizing, as was the norm for him on the daily, he shifted his focus to the back door of the diner and thought of Christine; her sprinting towards him when she spotted him waiting for her, eyes lighting up as she gazed at him, cheeks flushing when she stared for too long. Their short time together had made him optimistic and it wasn't too hard to envision her smiling at him again, that damn smile that he wanted to draw from her several more times throughout the night.
Just then, a figure emerged from around the side of the building, pulling Erik from his thoughts. It seemed to be a man, confirmed almost instantly when a light flicked on upon his arrival at the service door. Erik observed him for a few moments, taking note of how he impatiently tapped his foot on the concrete while fidgeting with his wristwatch. Wait…was that–it was the same man who was staring daggers at him while disdainfully scarfing down some strange green pie. Whatever the man had an issue with had to either be because Erik wasn't a local or his mask wasn't up to the man's standards. It was no matter though; Erik wasn't a stranger to the hostility surrounding his visage.
A few seconds after Erik made the realization, the door finally swung open and a goddess commanded his attention. Her face did indeed light up and she smiled at him as if she were seeing the sun for the first time, but before she could move to meet him, the strange man blocked her path. A pang of jealousy drove into Erik's gut, his jaw clenching as his pulse rose to his throat like bile. Had he been waiting for her? Had he been waiting for a woman who was already claimed by another man?
Less than ten yards if she should need him, that was the distance to cover…ten yards. He wouldn't interfere just yet, not when she may consider it an overstep. What if the man was simply a friend or her brother? There was no point in becoming a raging mess only to make a fool of himself. Instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets and waited as patiently as he could.
"Richard, what are you doing back here?" he heard Christine query timidly.
"I know you said you didn't want to go out tomorrow," Richard said, "but what about tonight? You are off work and I have nothing to–"
"I said no," she asserted, her eyes flickering towards Erik. "I have plans."
Christine made an attempt to slip past him, but he stopped her once again and their fronts collided, making Erik's blood boil in his veins. That was it, the moron had his chance to leave without interference, so Erik stalked towards the two of them, intent on rescuing his woman. Unfortunately, before he could cover even half the distance, Richard wrapped his vile paw around her upper arm and tugged her closer.
"Just one date, Christine," Richard pressed, tightening his hold on her. She cringed away from him, her head falling back as if she were trying to escape the atrocity of his breath. "That's all I ask."
"No," she whimpered as she clawed at his hand and sent Erik a panicked glance, her eyes brimmed with tears. How dare this boy lay his waste of a hand on a woman? What gave him the right to harass people at their workplace? The rage Erik felt was foreign, rushing to his head and all he heard was Christine's soft sniffles; his Christine. She was his and this–this bastard was harming her!
Mine.
As Erik finally reached them, he grasped the offender's arm and wretched him away from Christine. The cretin toppled to the asphalt, landing square on his bottom, while Erik tucked a shivering Christine behind himself. If she wasn't touching him, he was certain a punishment worse than falling backwards would have been inflicted, but he was thankful to have avoided physical violence however tempting it may be. He couldn't risk being arrested and in front of Christine no less.
"She said no," Erik warned with an added sternness to his voice.
"Who is this?" Richard asked, clambering to his feet. "Your boyfriend?"
Christine clutched onto the back of Erik's shirt, muttering, "So what if he is? What's it to you?"
Richard huffed and stamped his foot like a child, gesturing at Erik while trying to catch sight of her. "You'll give him a chance but not me?"
"Just leave me alone, Richard," she demanded firmly. "I've said no time and time again."
"Leave," Erik reiterated. "You aren't welcome here any longer."
Seeming to have accepted his loss for the time being, Richard grumbled, "One day, Christine Daae. One day, you will be a sensible woman," then he shot Erik a threatening scowl before pivoting on his heel and slinking around the corner of the diner.
Erik turned his attention to Christine who was doing her best to blink away the moisture in her eyes. Without much contemplation on the matter, he caressed her velvet cheek and tilted her head so she would look at him, wanting more than anything for her to have a sense of safety, at least with him.
Christine's breath caught in her throat as their eyes met and he had a sudden moment of realization that his gesture of comfort was far too intimate for having only known her for a few minutes. Erik withdrew slowly so as to not frighten her, moving to a safer region of her body that did need examination; her arm.
"Are you okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?" he asked as he trailed his fingers over the subtle reddening marks, the one where Richard's thumb had been deepening in color faster than the others. "I'll kill him, I swear it."
"N–no, I'm fine and please, don't kill him," she whispered, feebly tugging her arm away and pulling her sleeve over the marks. "I–I'm sorry that y–you had to–" She paused for a shuddering breath and continued with more confidence, "I didn't know he was going to be waiting for me. He's never done this before."
Erik shook his head and fought the urge to embrace her, aching to provide her with the same comfort he felt just by looking at her. "Never apologize for anything like this," he said. "I can't stand to have you thinking it's your fault."
Christine bowed her head and swallowed hard, a roseate blush enveloping her cheeks as she uttered, "Alright, I won't apologize." She peeked up at him through her lashes and her tremors stopped when their gaze connected. Her lips parted and she managed, "Th–thank you…for saving me."
"Don't mention it," he said. "Are you still up for tonight? I don't want to make you uncomfortable–"
Before he could finish, she interjected, "Yes! I am still up for tonight."
Erik offered his arm. "Would you like to join me for a walk in the park? Phil tells me summertime here is perfect for walks, if you can get past the humidity."
He blanched. Why did he have to mention the weather of all things? What a way to draw attention to the fact that he was still sweating bullets. Idiot.
"Of course, thank you."
Christine heartily accepted, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow and leaning into him. The additional, yet welcomed, heat made his heart stutter and he expelled a silent gasp and glanced down at her only to find that she was already staring at him. The quizzical expression painting her face meant one thing and one thing only: she was curious about his mask, possibly dangerously curious. There was no doubt in his mind that she was wondering what horrors were hidden beneath the carefully crafted thin leather, perhaps even weighing her options on how he would react if she were to wretch it away.
No, behave, he scolded himself. His Christine would never do that to him, he more than likely had his wig in disarray but he couldn't bring himself to ask, so he forced a smile and placed a hand on his forearm while starting into the park. Sadly, the angel on his arm did not stay silent on the matter.
"Why do you wear a mask?" she asked, innocently enough.
Erik faltered in his step and stiffened, bringing Christine to a halt just beyond the entrance to the park. An uncomfortable tingling rose in his cheeks and he lowered his gaze, a wilting weed in the gap of the sidewalk becoming his focal point. It was far from what he needed to distract himself from the unceasing thundering within his chest; there was an agonizing tightness that took up residence as well, one that he was only familiar with in times of high stress. How–how could she ask him that so casually? How was he even supposed to answer without scaring her away? The mere topic of his deformity was enough to frighten people away, but, however much he wished to ignore her question, she deserved to know. He refused to keep such a horrendous secret from her any longer, not if he had any hopes of sharing his life with her.
"Only if you are comfortable though. I don't want you to feel pressured just because we are on a date," she assured him, covering his hand with her own, the gesture unusually soothing. "I have never seen anyone with a mask like yours, so forgive my curiosity."
"No,please don't–it's not that I am–" he tried as he gaped at her touch, relishing in how welcoming and warm her skin was. His eyes flicked to hers. "If we are to–my mask hides a birth defect."
Christine didn't so much as flinch, her expression not showing a single hint of revulsion, rather, a delicate smile formed on her lips as she removed her touch and inched towards his face. She wavered for a moment, asking, "Can I touch it? I promise not to remove it."
A sickening sense of dread set in and Erik sucked in a trembling breath, grabbing ahold of her wrist. What had he done to deserve such torture? He couldn't allow this to happen, he couldn't allow Christine to unmask him; how would he live if he was forced to watch her run away in terror? It was impossible, yet, it was for the best. There was no telling if he would be granted acceptance, but wasting her time was not something Erik wanted to do. So, summoning all of his courage, he brought her touch to his mask and gently laid her hand atop the cool leather before releasing her. He silently appealed to her, hoping that she would find it in herself to uphold her promise, and squeezed his eyes shut knowing that if he bore witness to her fear, his life was over.
