A/N: Wow! The response I received for the last chapter was truly amazing! Thank you so, so much! I'm relieved to hear that everyone thought Erik's reaction was believable and I'm glad you all enjoyed the interaction with between him and Christine. I've been riding that high all week and even managed to get another chapter done in the process. This is a shorter fluff piece meant to counteract the high intensity and emotions that I packed into chapter 32 and act as a bridge to events coming up in the next one, but it certainly doesn't lack for cute E/C moments. More to follow soon!


Chapter 33

Sunday came and went, and despite having a mountain of dishes in the sink, several loads of laundry needing to be washed, and a kitchen floor to finish, I'd gotten precisely jack shit done.

It's been a busy weekend. I need a day off to relax and decompress, I'd reasoned with myself, which was, in fact, a boldfaced lie. The real reason I was still curled up on the couch at three o'clock in the afternoon in a loose t-shirt and oversized sweats was because I couldn't seem to tear myself away from Erik.

He had been playing for hours. Actually, I don't think he'd ever stopped playing. I was pretty sure he had continued to play when I fell asleep the night before, and he'd been just as engrossed when I'd woken up this morning. He'd barely even acknowledged me when I said good morning to him and hadn't seemed to notice at all when I left the couch to shower and change.

"Is this sort of thing normal for you?" I asked. I wrapped my hands around my mug of hot chocolate and tucked my feet up under me, enjoying the comforting feel of the hot ceramic as it warmed my palms and fingertips. "Zoning out while playing the piano, I mean."

Erik's hands stilled on the keys. He glanced up, his gaze immediately cutting to the window where the snow was currently blowing sideways. Tiny flakes of ice ricocheted off the glass, making a rhythmic ticking sound that would speed up and slow down at random depending on how hard the wind was blowing.

"Oh my," he said, his eyes widening in surprise as he stared out at the storm. Turning his gaze to me, he managed to look somewhat repentant. "I've been neglecting you, haven't I?"

"Well, kinda," I replied with a playful smirk. "But I don't mind. I could listen to you for hours. Actually, I have," I laughed. "It's hard not to be drawn in. The way you play…there's good and then there's you. I've never heard anything like it."

"If you're trying to make me blush, it won't work."

"And not a modest bone in your body, I see," I snorted. I took a sip of hot chocolate, locking eyes with him over the rim of the mug. "Challenge accepted."

He laughed quietly, shaking his head as he tapped out a small tune. He did that a lot, I'd noticed. Once his hands had come into contact with the keys, it was nearly impossible to get his fingers to stop moving. In a way, it made him more accessible, I thought. Distracted as he was, he seemed to shed that layer of cool formality and reticence that always stood between us. I'd never seen him so relaxed, even when we worked in the kitchen together.

"It's easy to see how you and Christine bonded so easily over music," I said wistfully, reluctant to end the conversation and let him completely slip back into his music. "From what I read she was quite exceptional herself. It's one thing to sit here and listen to you. But it's entirely different to actually be able to create and share something like this with you on a deeper, more meaningful level. To be honest, I'm actually extremely envious."

Erik stopped and pulled his hands away from the keys, giving me his full, undivided attention. "You're envious? Of Christine?"

"Well, yeah," I shrugged, suddenly feeling very self-conscious and vulnerable. Setting the mug down on the coffee table, I pulled my legs to my chest and hunched over. I'd probably said too much already, but there was no going back now. "I mean, I'll never be able to connect with you in that sort of way."

He was quiet for a long time as he processed what I was saying. Then, he ventured, "Musically, no. But I would argue that you already have. Maybe even more so."

I perked up, raising my head just a little. "What do you mean?"

"Christine and I never built anything together. We never created anything tangible. You and I have. I would further argue that the dynamic between us is different as well. We are not teacher and student; we're equals, and that is infinitely more satisfying, wouldn't you agree?"

I nodded slowly.

"Besides," he added, "Christine and I never had the conversations that you and I do. It was music and occasionally instruction and nothing else. So really, my dear, there's absolutely no reason to be envious."

"You really think that?" I asked.

The look he gave me made my stomach flip-flop. "I don't make a habit of saying things I don't mean."

I blushed a deep fire-engine red and slammed my face against my thighs. Erik let out a low chuckle, and when I angled my head so that I could peek at him with one eye, I found him smiling at me warmly. I smiled back and was thrilled to see his eyes light up in response.

"So, my dear." He leaned back on the bench and rested his hands in his lap. "What would you like to do?"

You. I mean—what?

"Well, as much as I like to give you crap, I really am enjoying just sitting here and listening to you while you play," I replied. "If that's okay."

"Of course. Your wish is my command."

If only.

"Okay. Only…," I made a sweeping gesture that encompassed the whole room, "don't let me fall asleep on the couch again. I can't keep sleeping down here. I wake up all stiff and sore and I pay for it all the next day."

"I have tried, on multiple occasions I might add, to wake you in the past, and more often than not, my efforts have been largely ignored," he retorted pointedly.

"I know. I'm sorry about that. If I fall asleep this time, I promise I'll listen to you. But I won't fall asleep."

XXX

When I glanced up sometime later, I was alarmed to find that several hours had passed. Night had fallen, plunging the room into shadow. Silhouettes from the flickering fire bounced along the perimeter of the room as the meager light from the Christmas tree did its best to keep the heavy darkness at bay. Outside, the snow was still falling heavily, but the wind had died down to the point where it was no longer hurling the flakes against the window.

Guiltily, I turned my attention to where Christine lay curled up on the sofa, sound asleep, and let out an affectionate sigh.

In the ensuing silence, her earlier words echoed loudly in my ears.

To be honest, I'm actually extremely envious.

That revelation had come as quite a shock. In reality, it was Christine Daaé who should have been envious of her, for I had never felt this way about Mademoiselle Daaé. I'd barely had time to consider whether or not I was overstepping my bounds before the words had left my lips.

And then something happened.

She blushed.

Oh, she tried to hide it, but it was there, and I saw it, nonetheless. The sight of her shy smile and rosy-pink cheeks did something to me then that was as frightening as it was exhilarating. It sparked a small flame of hope.

I'd hastily thrown myself into my music before my mind had a chance to latch hold of that emotion and follow it further. But now, in the quiet stillness of early morning, I allowed my thoughts to wander.

Something was developing between us, that much was certain. Unfortunately, I wasn't experienced enough in such matters to know whether it was just the deepening of an already close friendship or the beginning of something more. Whatever it was, I'd definitely felt a shift in our relationship. The question was, was I brave enough to explore what it was?

Christine stirred and attempted to change positions, letting out a small grunt of frustration when that apparently failed. I sighed again. She would be furious with us both come morning. Standing, I threaded my way between the table and the sofa and knelt down to gently shake her awake.

"Christine," I whispered. "You've fallen asleep again. Wake up."

"Mmm?"

"Come now. You promised you wouldn't fight me."

She let out a soft murmur. "…Not fighting."

I sat back on my heels and repressed the urge to sigh a third time. Running a hand over my head to push my hair back, I considered my options. I could leave her there and risk her wrath in the morning, at which time I would wryly point out the consequences of her own actions. Or I could heed her wishes and see to it that she got a decent night's sleep.

I quickly decided that her comfort needed to come first, and before I could change my mind I stood up and gathered her into my arms, pulling her tightly against my chest. A faintly sweet, flowery smell filled my senses as I held her. I breathed deeply to take it all in, enjoying the way she felt in my arms, and had to stifle a gasp when she nestled deeper into my embrace and let her head rest against my shoulder. Her breathing returned to normal, coming out in small puffs that tickled the exposed skin on the side of my neck.

I closed my eyes. Oh, oh, oh! If I were to leave this Earth this second, I would leave a happy man!

Several minutes passed. I was reluctant to move. Reluctant to let it all end. I knew that I should have been expedient in following through with my intentions but holding her was just so exquisite and I feared it was something I would never experience again.

Just a few more minutes. Please.

Eventually, my sense of duty and decorum won out over my selfish need for physical contact. Taking great care so as not to jostle her too much, I wound my way around the sofa to the staircase and slowly climbed the stairs to her bedroom. I navigated through the dark easily enough and set her down gently on the bed, secretly grateful that she had left it unmade because it allowed me to slide her between the sheets and pull the blanket over her. She sighed contentedly and immediately turned on her side, pulling the covers up to her chin.

I froze, waiting for that inevitable moment when she would wake, and I would have to confess what I'd done. What would happen then? But she didn't, and after a few more stolen moments by her side, I quietly bid her goodnight and returned to my music.

XXX

I woke up the next morning trying desperately to hold on to the vestiges of a rapidly disintegrating dream. In it, I was surrounded by a tremendous feeling of warmth, contentment, and love. Every so often I would catch a flash of black, and at times I was certain I had felt Erik's presence. Given how close we'd been to each other the past forty-eight hours, it made sense that he would pop in and out of my dreams. I could have sworn part of that dream involved him holding me in his arms, but those images were fleeting and each time I tried to focus on one and try to remember exactly what I'd dreamt, the further away they slipped.

I slowly opened my eyes, fully expecting to find him still seated at the piano. Only he wasn't. Because there wasn't a piano. Gone, too, was the Christmas tree and fireplace. The room was eerily silent, with nothing around me except weak, gray light.

I sat up with a start, my heart pounding. My small bedroom filtered into view.

What the—?

Had I really been so tired that I couldn't seriously remember going to bed? That wasn't like me. Tired or not, I usually remembered stuff like that. The feeling of being pressed up against Erik's chest returned, stronger this time. Had he…had he carried me upstairs?

And I slept through it! Of all the rotten, miserable damn luck….

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how I looked at it, the alarm on my phone went off and effectively ended my downward spiral of frustration and regret. Fortunately, because the last thing I needed was another thing to obsess over about Erik. Unfortunately, because it reminded me that it was Monday and the start of what promised to be another hellacious work week. The week immediately following a holiday always seemed busier than normal, and that, combined with the official start of the winter and holiday seasons usually brought an influx of clients in seeking help for various seasonal-related issues.

Then, there was what I planned to do today. I grimaced, and for half a second, I seriously contemplated calling in sick. But that wouldn't do me any good in the end. It would only delay the inevitable, so unless I wanted to quit right then and there and look for another job, I was going to have to haul my ass out of bed and go to work and face Jake.

I'm sure there were lots of places hiring for the holidays….

"Ugh!" I groaned and tossed the covers back. Stomping across the room like a six-year-old throwing a tantrum because they didn't want to go to school, I grabbed my towel and forced myself into the bathroom to get ready.

The spray of hot water felt good. I let it beat against my shoulders and the back of my neck, and some of the tension I was feeling eased. What was I going to say to Jake? And when? If I said something at the beginning of my shift, I'd have to sit there the whole day feeling like shit over what I'd done. And if I waited until the end of my shift, I'd have to sit there the whole day trying to hide my nervousness over what I was about to do. Either way, the day promised to be long and awkward.

I heaved a heavy sigh. Then, there was Erik. What did I say to him? Did I say thanks and casually try to brush it off as no big deal, or did I feign ignorance and pretend it never happened? That was ridiculous. How else would I have gotten upstairs?

Goddammit.

In the end, my indecision ultimately made the decision for me. By the time I got out of shower, I had little time to do anything else but get dressed and rush out the door. I hadn't even left myself enough time to make coffee, so I could add being tired and grumpy to the list along with being edgy and anxious.

I finished zipping up my boots and ran out to the landing and rushed down the stairs. Erik was waiting for me at the bottom, one hand resting on the newel post at the bottom of the banister. I could see the look of apprehension on his face despite the mask. Damn it. If I only had more time.

"I've got to go," I said hurriedly as I brushed by him. "I'm running late."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw his shoulders slump in what I thought was defeat. Or was it disappointment? Belatedly I realized that I was doing him a disservice. No doubt he, too, was worried about how I would react knowing he'd carried me upstairs. Skidding to a stop at the last moment, I pivoted on my heel and grabbed his forearm and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Hey. Thanks for what you did last night."

A small smile formed on his bottom lip as his eyes flooded with relief. "You're welcome," he replied, slipping his other hand over mine.

"I really do have to go, though," I told him, reaching for my coat. "I'll see you tonight."

And with that I grabbed my purse and car keys and raced out the door before I forgot we were just friends and planted a kiss on his cheek to say goodbye.


"What? Friends listen to Endless Love in the dark." Lol sorry. This quote from Happy Gilmore popped into my head as I wrote that last part. Hope you enjoyed! Something is happening. Stay tuned to find out! Next up, breaking up with Jake!