I wasn't intending on serious sexytimes in this chapter, but Erik and Christine just can't seem to keep their hands off of each other. They're like rabbits, I swear! Also, 'This is Love' is a must-have for this phic playlist.
Many thanks to my beta PhantomSith for keeping me honest and making sure you all got the sexytimes you deserved.
Her nose itched. Her brow scrunched up, and a deep breath echoed throughout the quiet room as she came to slow wakefulness. Christine brushed the feeling away and burrowed further into the soft mattress with a contented sigh. Still half asleep, she slid her hand across the smooth sheets, expecting to find the warm, comforting planes of Erik's chest under her fingertips. A cool, empty space was what greeted her instead.
Her eyes fluttered open as she realized that Erik wasn't there. She was alone. Christine's heart began to race and a bolt of fear shot through her as she scanned the bedroom for any sign of his presence.
Her gaze swept over Erik's side of the bed to the nightstand. Christine remembered that his prosthetic had been propped next to it against the wall. But now it was gone.
Flopping onto her back, Christine chewed on her thumbnail as she stared up at the ceiling, a worrisome thought striking her, unbidden. Being with Erik the night before – allowing him into her heart – wasn't something she could ever regret.
But what about Erik? Did he think it was all a terrible mistake? Was that why he'd left her to wake alone? He'd seemed happy after what happened between them last night, but this was a huge change in their fledgling relationship. And it had all happened so fast.
Christine knew what it meant for Erik to allow himself to be so vulnerable. It hadn't been any easier for her.
She had cared a great deal for Raoul, but toward the end of their time together, she'd found herself waking with him beside her less and less – until he had disappeared from her life. She felt so lost and alone then. All she'd wanted was him, but when they went their separate ways, he vanished off the face of the earth.
But what she felt for Erik was so much more intense and overwhelming. If she had to go through that again with him, she didn't think she could bear it.
The sound of running water coming from the bathroom ripped Christine out of her nightmarish thought spiral as her head snapped toward the direction of the sound. An embarrassed laugh wobbled from her throat, and realizing how preposterous her assumptions had been, she wiped a few errant tears that had formed in her eyes.
Of course, Erik was here. She was being ridiculous.
Christine sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Though the bedsheets she'd pulled up kept most of her body covered, a yawn that turned into a long, languid stretch had them falling to pool at her hips.
The cool air caused a flurry of tingles to sweep over her exposed flesh. An intense surge of want flowed through her, and Christine grinned as a lascivious idea popped into her mind. Standing and making her way over to the small dresser in search of something to wear, she grabbed one of Erik's white dress shirts, slipped it on, and rolled up the sleeves. She didn't bother doing up the buttons, leaving the curve of her breasts on display for his viewing pleasure.
Padding her way across the hall, Christine could hear Erik fiddling with something behind the closed door. She grinned, her eyes lighting up as a bolt of lust shot through her core.
I hope he's hungry this morning, Christine thought, an image of Erik's lean, naked body flashing in her mind. I certainly am…
"There you are baby," Christine purred as she cracked the door open. Peeking her head around the frame so she could see all of him, she went on, "I was wondering where you—"
Christine's words died on her lips as Erik's reflection stared back at her, what was previously hidden under his mask now bared to her in stark relief.
After seeing the scars on his body, Christine had believed she was prepared for whatever else might be revealed to her, but…what she saw was beyond anything she could have imagined.
The flesh on Erik's face was more than burned. His lips were purple and bloated on one side, a deep, angry scar curling up from the corner into a deformed sneer. It arced in a jarring line towards what remained of his sunken cheek, the skin there appearing as though it had started to disintegrate and then had been sewn together in an unsuccessful attempt at plastic surgery.
The scar wound around his browless temple and disappeared into what was left of his hairline. The warped and mottled flesh was dry and discolored, a pale blue tint covering most of it from the rivers of veins just visible beneath.
He whipped around and their gazes locked. As Christine looked into his eyes, she lost herself for a long moment in the sharp contrast. One was a dark, fathomless brown, while the other was so clouded and murky that it was difficult to make out any color at all.
Erik's ragged breathing was the only sound that could be heard between them as Christine's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes welling up with tears.
He could see her lip trembling, could hear the strangled gasp she was choking back, and his heart plummeted into his stomach.
No, no, no! Not again…Erik's mind wailed, hurdling him back in time four years…
He was lying in that cold, lonely bed in the hospital's burn ward, blistered, broken, and drowning in a tidal wave of debilitating pain.
His only moments of peace were when the medications the doctors prescribed left him dead to the world. Then, he was grateful to know nothing at all.
He could vaguely remember the nurse coming in every so often to change the wrappings on his face. She was always professional and never said an unkind word. But he could see it in her eyes – the pity. How she never looked at his deformed side for longer than was necessary.
One of the few days he was lucid, she was in the middle of cleaning his wounds when the door creaked open…and his ex-girlfriend Lucy walked in.
He hadn't seen her since before winter break, when she'd broken things off with him for good. It hadn't been unexpected. She had grown tired of him always putting his music first…and he knew she deserved better.
He was shocked she even knew where he was, it had been so long. He would never forget the moment she laid eyes on him; the look of horror on her face as she fled…
An anguished sob pulled him back to the present with brutal force. He couldn't be sure if it came from himself or Christine.
"Erik…I…" she rasped, her breath catching in her throat. "I'm so sorry…!"
Christine rushed forward, her arms wrapping around Erik's waist as she hugged him tight. Erik froze in his shocked state that his body tensed, and his hands trembled as they hovered around her.
He'd almost stopped breathing. He had envisioned Christine having many different reactions to seeing his face; disgust, revulsion…fear. Out of all the myriad possibilities, Erik had never anticipated that she would be overcome with such sorrow.
Erik's chest tightened, his eyes snapping shut as he took in a great gulp of air to keep himself from coming apart in front of her.
His quivering hands made a featherlight trail down Christine's arms and around her back, enfolding her in an uneasy embrace.
Her shoulders began to shudder under his hold, and Erik could feel the warm sensation of her tears as they streamed down his chest. Christine lifted her head then and whispered a kiss over his heart. As she clung to him, curling into his broken body, Erik felt every drop of tension bleed out of him.
He sagged against the doorframe, needing the support to keep him from going boneless, his chest finally beginning to loosen so he could breathe again. Erik laid his good cheek on the soft cushion of Christine's hair, letting out a deep, shuddering sigh as he held her in the lingering silence.
Christine's cheeks glistened with the sheen of her tears as she took a quivering breath and looked up at him. Her eyes were downcast, her voice subdued as she spoke, "I should've knocked first. I know that. I feel terrible putting you through that, Erik. It was insensitive and thoughtless, and…I would understand if you wanted me to go."
Erik hesitated for a moment, not knowing what to say since he'd never been in this situation before. Christine's face fell, her shoulders slumping as she backed away and hastened into the bedroom.
He could see her curling in on herself as she rubbed her arms, and Erik knew that he'd made a terrible mistake. His reticence had made Christine believe that he was upset with her when that couldn't be further from the truth.
He was taken aback, yes. Maybe even a little irritated at her absentmindedness. But not angry. He didn't think he could ever be upset with Christine over anything. Not for long, anyway.
Erik dashed after her, not about to let this misunderstanding go on any further. When he made it into the bedroom, Christine was busy grabbing the clothes and shoes she'd worn the night before.
"Christine, it's—" he called out, trying to get her attention, but she pushed past him, rambling on as if he wasn't there.
"I've got to get home. I have to open the store, and I didn't even think about bringing anything with me when I decided to stay last night! Madame will have a fit if I'm late..."
She laid her dress out on the bed and started slipping Erik's shirt off when his hand shot out to envelop hers over the fabric with a stern, "Christine."
Christine froze, biting her lip as anxiety rolled off of her in waves while she stood before him, eyes glassy and chest heaving.
Her chin began to wobble, and Erik knew she was fighting not to fall apart. He had to fix this. Now.
Erik cupped her face with gentle hands, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks with a light touch and breathed, "Relax. I'm not upset…though I regret that my poor reaction made you believe I was. Don't beat yourself up over it, please. I swear, I'm all right. And besides…there's no reason to rush." At the questioning look in her eyes, he elaborated, "It's Saturday, angel. You know the store doesn't open until ten o'clock."
Christine's eyes widened as the penny dropped. "Is it?"
Erik nodded, grinning with amusement at her confusion.
Covering her face in embarrassment, Christine continued, "Oh God…that's right. The club was yesterday. Friday night. I can't believe I didn't realize that!"
Erik chuckled, about to respond, but her eyes darted around the room and landed on his bedside alarm clock. "Oh, shit! It's almost ten-thirty!" Looking back at him she went on, "I can't believe you let me sleep that long!"
For the first time in ages, a full-blown laugh bubbled out of him, and a wicked smile lit up Erik's face as he replied, "You had a…long night. We both did…if you don't remember?"
"Um...yeah." A profuse blush blossomed over Christine's cheeks, her gaze darting away as she brushed an errant strand of curls behind her ear. "I still need to get home, though. To change. My shift starts at noon, and uh…" She paused, tugging at the shirt she was wearing with a cheeky grin, "…I think we both know this isn't proper work attire."
"I disagree. I believe what you have on," Erik countered with a slow tilt of his head, appraising her with heat in his eyes, "is more than acceptable."
Christine giggled at Erik's overt flirtatiousness. It helped to bring some levity back to what had been a serious moment between them. But a small part of her still worried and needed to know they were okay. Her doe eyes looked into his mismatched ones, and she trailed her hands up his arms, giving them an affectionate squeeze as she asked, "Erik…? Are you sure you don't want me to go? I wouldn't blame you at all if you did."
"No. Of course not." Erik answered without an ounce of hesitation. He wasn't about to make the same mistake twice. "I'm…just not very good at this. I mean…" he trailed off with a frustrated sigh, "…being with someone. Anyone." Now he was becoming apprehensive. "I haven't…done something to make you want to leave, have I?"
Pulling him over to the bed, Christine motioned for Erik to sit while she removed his shirt and grabbed her dress. "Believe me, I would love nothing more than to stay curled up in bed with you all day if I could, but…even if it's only a four-hour shift, I need the money."
Erik made no effort to hide his displeased groan as she slipped her dress and heels on, putting an end to the beautiful view he was enjoying. Sauntering over to stand between his long legs, she seemed so serene as she smiled down at him and ran her fingers through his hair.
With tentative movements, her hand trailed along the deformed area of his hairline. He didn't flinch or turn away as her fingertips hovered just over his temple, tracing an imaginary line down the path of the deformity to his chin.
Erik could feel himself start to relax, the stiffness in his body easing as her gentle ministrations soothed his frayed nerves. He found himself leaning into her phantom touch without realizing he was doing so, until Christine tried to caress his ravaged cheek, whispering, "I wish I could take away your pain…"
He tensed again, angling his head away as he stilled her wrist in his solid grip. Christine gasped, not expecting such a strong reaction from him. A quiver of fear trickled down her spine because she was aware that Erik had certain…boundaries. She feared her unthinking gesture had violated them and would cause the fragile trust between them to disintegrate.
Erik's lips were pursed and his voice was low as he cautioned, "Please...don't. Trust me when I say…you wouldn't want to...touch that."
Christine frowned, her hand curling into a fist in his grasp. He could feel her trying to free herself from his hold, but the distressed look in her eyes told him that she wasn't offended by his response. She was pulling away because she was upset with herself.
Seeing her so distraught on his behalf, something solidified in Erik's mind. He knew now that he couldn't continue erecting walls to keep Christine at arm's length when it came to the innermost parts of himself. He had to let her in.
It wasn't the first time Erik had caused someone pain because he hadn't cared enough to see what was happening right in front of him. Their 'relationship' might not have been one that would last beyond high school, but Lucy had always been good to him, despite how difficult he knew he could be.
All she'd wanted at the time was for him to act like he gave a damn, but he was so wrapped up in his musical obsessions that he didn't even realize anything was wrong until she told him it was over.
He couldn't let that happen again. Not with Christine. This wasn't some meaningless fling that he could just walk away from whenever he felt like he'd had enough. The truth was terrifying in its simplicity, and trying to fight what his heart had known almost from the moment they'd met had become exhausting.
He was in love with Christine. It had only been a few days, but…there was no denying it. She had become a pinpoint of light in his dark world, breathing life into his empty existence. With her kindness and acceptance, she'd given him a purpose – to be better. Not just for her. But for himself.
Behind her wounded exterior, Christine had a passionate spirit inside of her that matched his own powerful inner desires. If he continued to push her away, the agony of watching her walk out of his life would destroy him.
With a newfound resolve, Erik settled his hand over Christine's and brought it up to touch his face. He could sense her reluctance in the way her hand was taut against his palm, but after a few, tense moments, the strain eased as she stroked his cheek.
Everything else fell away as their gazes remained fastened on each other, and Erik murmured, "It doesn't hurt. I promise. All the chemicals…they burned my skin in the accident. Most of the nerves in those areas are beyond repair. I can't feel much of anything there anymore."
Erik closed his eyes and let out a long breath. He knew he was taking an incredible risk with what he was about to say next. It was tantamount to taking a sledgehammer to all of his fortifications and leaving himself completely vulnerable. "The last time someone I cared about saw my face...in the hospital...it didn't end well. I haven't seen or heard from her since. All these years later…I can still remember the terror in her eyes as she ran from the room. I don't think I'll ever forget it…"
"Erik…look at me. Please." Christine intoned as she caressed the scarred bumps and ridges along his temple and cheek.
Her hands cupped both sides of his face, tilting it upwards. Erik's eyes fluttered open, and looking upon their beautiful, contrasting depths, she could see the fear he held deep within. "Whoever she was…I am not her. It'll take time to get used to…I won't lie. After all, I'm only human. But you don't have to be afraid of being alone because I'm not going anywhere. How could I, Erik? I love you…"
Not giving him the chance to second-guess her, Christine leaned in and slanted her lips over Erik's, reveling in finally being able to feel every part of him.
He was slow to react at first, his lips tense as he waited for the other shoe to drop. But after only a short moment, his worry seemed to melt away as he opened up like a blossoming flower and captured her mouth.
Erik's hands came up to rest over Christine's as she held his face in her palms. He closed his eyes, losing himself in her sweet taste.
Her tongue demanded entrance, and Erik was eager to oblige her as he surged forward and deepened the kiss. She had expected the bloated, deformed side of his mouth to be rough and brittle, but she was surprised to find that it was warm and velvety soft.
Christine moved forward, never breaking contact as she curled into his lap. Erik wrapped his arms around her as the kiss lingered, but before long, he had become so overwhelmed that he had to pull away to breathe.
He pulled Christine close, laying his head on her chest and clinging to her as a strangled sob escaped him. She held him tight as he shook with silent tears, her own streaming down her cheeks into his hair.
Neither of them was sure how much time had passed as they held each other, but after a while, Erik's turmoil seemed to ebb as his hold loosened and he sagged in her arms. His chest heaved with a deep, cleansing breath as he pulled back and looked into Christine's vivid hazel eyes.
She caressed the plains of his battered face, her gaze filled with adoration, and a strong wave of want swelled within him. Erik didn't allow doubt to creep in this time. He didn't think. He just acted.
He ran his hand through her maze of curls, bunching them at the back in a loose grip. Drawing her to him, Erik attacked Christine's lips with fervor, sucking the bottom one between his teeth and giving it a hard nip.
She gasped, pulling him even closer, and breathed a low moan of pleasure as Erik's tongue massaged the inside of her mouth in long, slow strokes, as if he were memorizing every line and every curve.
They were so lost in each other that the world could have burned around them and they wouldn't have noticed.
There was no telling how long they kissed as, at that moment, time held no meaning for them. But air, they found, was an unfortunate necessity. Erik broke away to rain a cascade of bruising kisses down the curve of her neck, his hands seizing the ties at the waistline of Christine's dress and frantically undoing them.
The need to touch her, to have her smooth, creamy skin bared to him had risen to a near-unbearable level.
He had no patience for delicacy or finesse. That could come later. All Erik knew right then was his body's desperate need to be inside of her. To know Christine was his in every way. It was so overpowering that he ached with it.
Pulling the dress open, Erik wasted no time licking a blistering trail down her chest, Christine's mewls and moans only serving to ratchet his desire up even more. Erik slid her bra straps off her shoulders and pulled the cups down with a rough yank, diving in with ravenous abandon.
Christine's arm was around his back, her hand clutching his hair as she held him to her chest while Erik gorged himself on her pert, sumptuous breasts. He suckled at her as if he were a man dying of thirst, and she was his oasis in the desert. Christine was starting to squirm in his hold, and at first, Erik thought she was trying to pull away. When he bit at her nipples, she cried out, pulling his mouth away and assaulting his lips with a passionate kiss.
Her flesh was on fire from his touch as Christine rubbed her thighs together and moisture pooled at her core. She couldn't wait any longer. She needed him. Now.
Shimmying from Erik's lap, Christine jerked her dress off and tossed it to the floor. Removing her heels and kicking them behind her, she shot forward and grabbed at his belt, unclasping it before undoing his pants with furious speed. Erik lifted himself a bit so she could slide them and his underwear over his hips and down his legs.
She couldn't get them past his prosthetic without pulling, but Christine didn't bother trying. Seeing could see how hard Erik was, how ready. And that was all that mattered.
Christine straddled him, hovering just over his straining shaft. She looked into his eyes, needing to be sure that he wanted this as much as she did. The certainty she saw there, the raw need, left no further doubt in her mind. Or her heart.
Wrapping her hand around his hardness, she gave him a few quick pumps. Drops of precum began to bead, and Erik hissed as she swirled it over the head with zealous strokes. When Christine rubbed his tip over her entrance, groaning at the feel of him against her wet folds, his hips bucked toward her on instinct.
Lining him up at her entrance, Christine moaned as she sank onto him, reveling in the slow, pleasant stretch as Erik filled her. Erik's eyes rolled back in his head at the all-consuming sensation of being sheathed fully inside her.
A shiver rolled through her body at how whole Erik had made her feel…but she needed more. She wanted more.
Christine began to move, hands caressing his chest as she raised herself until he was almost out of her, and then crashing back down. Their movements started out long and slow, Erik's tongue laving her breasts while his hands guided her hips as she continued to rise up and down on top of him.
"Oh yeah," she keened as Erik jerked his hips in time with her movements. "Fuck me, baby…just like that! Right there…!"
Erik was relishing hearing her mewling and whimpering for him. Knowing that he was the one to pull those enticing sounds from her lips was enough to make what little was left of his control snap. Putting his hand under one of her knees to raise her leg, he slid out of her and turned to plop Christine onto the bed.
She groaned at losing the wonderful feeling of him inside her, but seeing Erik's eyes darken with lust as his eyes traced every inch of her magnificent body laid out before him, Christine could only gasp as he surged forward, maneuvering himself on top of her.
He ran a hand up her thigh, making her skin tingle as he pulled her toward him to wrap one leg around her hip. Raising her other leg by the calf, Erik balanced it on his shoulder and leaned in. Lining himself up, he dispensed with all pretense of delicacy as he buried himself inside her.
She was so warm and wet and tight around him that she had Erik to the hilt within moments, and he felt as though he was riding a wave of utter bliss, giving him a high more perfect than a lifetime's worth of painkillers.
His hand gripping her ankle hard, Erik set a punishing pace as he slammed into her, making Christine cry out in utter ecstasy.
"Fuck yes!" She keened, fisting the sheets so hard her knuckles were turning white. "That's it, baby…fuck me just like that!"
"Christine…angel…" Erik panted, his heart hammering in his chest as he felt a familiar tingling at the base of his spine. His balls began to tighten as they slapped against her folds, making her squeal even more, and he knew he was close.
But he'd be damned if he found his release before she did. A baser, animalistic part of him wanted to watch her fall apart in his arms. Wanted to see her ravished and wrecked…because of him.
"Please, Christine…" Erik beseeched, his speech faltering as he fucked her even harder. "l-let me h-hear you."
Christine's moans had turned into insistent whimpers as he went faster. Bringing his free hand to her clit, Erik rubbed furious circles into the bundle of nerves there. Christine was screeching now, her movements becoming less precise as she teetered on the edge.
Erik was desperate. He needed Christine to let go. And he had only one advantage left to draw upon. His voice.
She knew Erik was a talented musician and composer, but Christine had yet to hear him use his voice to its true, enthralling capacity. His smooth, honeyed, mesmerizing tones poured over her as he crooned, "Come for me. Come for me, Angel…"
"Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Erik, I'm gonna come…! I'm gonna –" Christine cried out, long and loud as she shattered in his arms. Her orgasm ripped through her, undulating in wave upon wave of transcendent pleasure.
It felt like it would never end as Erik kept going, his furious bucking now sloppy and uncontrolled. Seconds later, Erik buried his face in her neck and tensed as his own release slammed into him. His guttural groan turned into a shout of absolute ecstasy as he came so hard, it was almost blinding.
Christine could feel a warmth inside her as Erik coated her inner walls, a sense of complete satisfaction settling upon her. A few more slow pumps finally had him spent as he closed his eyes and allowed his breathing to settle, basking in her fragrant aroma as it intermingled with his musky scent.
Christine had gone quiet in his arms, and for a long moment, all that could be heard was the soft sound of their exhalations as they held each other. After a few minutes enveloped in silence, a light tinkling noise pulled Erik out of his reverie.
Christine's shoulders shook a little, and it was then that Erik realized she was giggling. He flinched as a cold chill trickled down his spine. He didn't think he could bear it if she thought this was all a huge mistake, or worse…that he was a sub-par lover.
He lifted his head from the alcove of her neck and sat back a bit so he could look her in the eyes. "Christine, I…I don't know what to say. I hadn't intended for this to happen. Not until we were ready. Should we not have…?"
Erik pursed his lips, biting off the end of the question.
"What…?" Christine asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Not have…?" She tilted her head as if trying to understand, and then her eyes widened as she finally caught on to what Erik was trying to say. "Oh! Oh, Erik…no. There are no regrets. No regrets."
Caressing his face with both hands, she went on, "I know this whole thing must feel like a crazy, whirlwind romance, but…I wouldn't have it any other way. You know," Christine purred as she ran her fingers down his chest, "I was only laughing because you and your…wiles…are going to make me late for work."
Erik's face lit up in relief, and a seductive smirk crawled across his face. His lips slammed against hers as he assailed Christine with a quick, fiery kiss. Leaning his forehead against hers, his voice was full of heat as he warned, "Careful, angel…you don't want to start something you don't intend to finish…"
Christine bit her lip in anticipation, ready for round two, but then groaned in disappointment as she pulled away. "You are just…unfair. You do know that, right? Good God, you should come with a warning!" Erik snickered as he slid off her, flopping onto his back as she crawled off the bed and stood, wobbling slightly as she worked to regain the feeling in her legs. "And on that note…if we don't get outta here in the next few minutes, I really will be late, and Madame will kill me."
Christine grabbed her dress and shoes, and Erik assumed she was heading to the bathroom to clean herself up. She wasn't even gone a second before her head popped back in the doorway, her face the picture of seriousness as she informed him, "But we will be continuing this tonight. Believe me…"
And then, she disappeared.
With an amused grin, Erik shook his head at her audaciousness before grabbing an extra hand towel from his nightstand drawer. Making quick work of setting himself to rights, he then went back into the living room.
As he emerged from the hallway, Erik noticed a hint of something…blue and lacey partially hidden beneath the coffee table. He crossed over to the couch and plopped down on it, grinning as he bent forward to pick up the scrap of fabric.
Oh…I am going to thoroughly enjoy this…Erik's baser mind snickered as he imagined a slew of indecent scenarios that ensured Christine wouldn't make it to work at all.
No more than a moment later, the sound of hopping echoed down the hallway as Christine struggled to get her heel on. She wasn't paying any attention to what he was doing as she babbled, "Okay…here's what's gonna happen…"
Her shoe now in place, Christine began to straighten up so that Erik would be in her line of sight. "We're grabbing a cab back to my place so I can take the world's quickest shower and change into something decent –" Her gaze landed on what was in his hand, and she stopped short.
Erik was sitting back with his legs crossed at the ankles and one arm stretched out, feigning an appearance of casual indifference as he twirled her underwear on his finger.
Christine rolled her eyes, her hands going to her hips. "Oh, haha," she retorted, unamused.
Erik smirked and tilted his head, his eyebrow raised in a cheeky look that read: are we missing something?
Biting her lip as she tried and failed to suppress an embarrassed laugh, she lunged forward and grabbed the panties off his finger. "Very funny."
Erik shrugged his shoulders, his hands splayed out as if to say, 'What?'
Grabbing her clutch from the kitchen counter, Christine hastily stuffed the undergarment inside and turned back to Erik to continue where she'd left off.
"Now, as I was saying before…someone," she locked her gaze on him as her head flicked in his direction, "interrupted me…I was hoping we'd have breakfast at our 'favorite' bagel place. But I know it'll be too busy, and I'm in a time crunch. As luck would have it, though, there's a food truck not too far from my place that makes what has to be the best breakfast burrito I have ever had. And if we hurry, we might just get there in time before they switch over to the lunch menu."
Erik's face fell at Christine's suggestion, his gaze shuttering as the walls he'd worked to tear down earlier started rebuilding themselves. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and hung his head, knowing he was going to have to disappoint her.
His tone seemed defeated as he responded, "Christine, I'm…not sure that's a good idea right now."
"What? Wh…why not?" she asked, nonplussed. "I mean…if you don't like burritos, we can figure something else out—"
"It's not that," Erik interjected before Christine could get carried away. "It's just…going out with you at night is one thing, but…during the day? It's different. And you know why. Most of the time, I don't even go out for supplies until the evening. When far fewer people are around."
Christine sighed and kneeled in front of him, her eyes filled with sadness. She lay her hands on top of his as they sat atop his thighs and rubbed soothing circles into his skin, replying, "Erik…I know this is hard, but…last night, don't you remember telling me that you wanted to live again?"
He gave her a silent nod, and she went on, "Well, that showed me that you have far more courage than you give yourself credit for. We both knew that it would be a long road. Maybe…this is just another step on the journey?"
Threading his fingers with hers, Erik took a fortifying breath and responded, "You're right. I know. I can't live like this anymore. It's not healthy, and…I don't want to push you away. So…I'll go with you, but…can you promise me one thing?"
"Of course. Anything," Christine assured him without hesitation.
"No matter what happens…please don't try to defend me," Erik implored her, his tone firm.
"Erik…you can't expect me to sit back and do nothing if some ignorant asshole decides to open their mouth," Christine balked, huffing in frustration. "What kind of person would I be to let you suffer through that?"
Sitting back on the couch, Erik shook his head and sighed in frustration. "You're not hearing me. The point is, you shouldn't have to!"
Christine flinched, not expecting his vehement response. In the short time she'd known him, she'd had come to understand that Erik's eccentricities were only one layer of his complicated personality. It was both alluring and exasperating in equal measure.
With his rapid shift between conflicting emotions – from happy and flirtatious, to muted and somber, to irritable and snappy – she was beginning to realize that she'd only had a mere glimpse of his unpredictable moods.
"But you don't deserve to be treated like that!" She argued, unwilling to let the matter drop.
"No one does, Christine!" Erik snapped. He could see in her eyes that Christine was becoming upset and knew he had to calm down or he'd be in danger of losing his temper.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he continued, "You forget…I've been dealing with this for years. The unsettled gazes that they think I can't see. The whispered words under their breaths that they think I can't hear. More often than not, I simply ignore them because what they think doesn't matter."
"But if you feel the need to…police…every person that says an unkind word or makes an uncouth gesture every time we go out together…what kind of relationship will we have? One where you're always on your guard? Where I have to endure the indignity of allowing my girlfriend to fight my battles for me? That isn't fair to either of us. Let me handle it, Christine. Can you do that? Please?"
Tugging on their joined hands, Christine rose to her feet and Erik joined her. She had a pensive look on her face as she tried to figure out how to respond. Pulling his arms around her so could feel the warmth of his embrace, she laid her head on his chest and murmured, "All I can say is…I'll try. I can't promise anything more than that."
"I know, Angel…" he sighed into her hair before leaning down and brushing a chaste kiss across her lips.
A mischievous grin spread across Christine's face as she pulled Erik toward the door. "Erik…did you just call me your girlfriend? Because I'm pretty sure that's what I heard."
"And…if I did?" he asked with a defiant light in his eyes. "Considering what happened last night and this morning, Angel…I thought that was a given."
Christine smiled at him, her eyes shining with happiness. Even though she appeared somewhat disheveled in her wrinkled dress and frazzled curls, Erik was awed by her beauty.
"Well…of course it is, you silly man…" her voice trailed off as she threaded her arm through his and led him out of the apartment.
It took them a few minutes to hail a cab, but they arrived at Christine's walk-up with a decent amount of time for her to shower and change.
The apartment was empty when they arrived, to Erik's immense relief. It wasn't that he didn't like Meg. In truth, he was quite fond of her, despite their tendency toward sibling-like rivalry. He had even enjoyed Sam's company, however brief it was the night before.
Erik just…wanted to be alone with Christine for a little while longer. To have her to himself a few moments more.
He would never have imagined that, after only a few days, it was possible to love someone the way he loved her. She had consumed every facet of his existence and made him feel…alive…. for the first time in years.
Their relationship was so…new…that he didn't think he was ready to share her with anyone just yet. He knew that sounded childish and possessive, but…he couldn't help how he felt.
In the end, he didn't have more of an opportunity to contemplate on these conflicting emotions because Christine soon emerged from the bathroom. It was yet another thing about her that he loved – her no-frills nature and ability to be ready at the drop of a hat.
They had walked up the block at leisure, holding hands and basking in each other's presence, to where the food truck was parked. Erik found that he relished these intimate little moments with her. When it was just the two of them. But life had taught him that nothing good lasted forever.
He wondered if there was always going to be some small part of him that was waiting for tragedy to strike.
The cook was too busy to notice him as Christine ordered their food, but Erik could feel the prying eyes of some of those waiting in line. Their gazes were surreptitious as they glanced his way, and most of them made a diligent effort not to stare.
It was impossible to expect them to not react in some way. Even though people tended to give him a wide berth more often than not.
When Christine had turned to hand him his bag, she noticed his penetrating stare, though his expression was neutral. Her gaze snapped to the line of people behind them. There were your typical harried New Yorkers and others who couldn't be bothered, their noses in newspapers. But a few of them had tried to look away before being noticed.
Christine's eyes had narrowed, her lips pursing as she stepped forward. Erik was sure she was about to say something, even though he'd begged her not to, and his hand shot out as he gripped her wrist, stopping her.
When she looked back at him, confused, Erik shook his head in a silent, 'no.'
Though it was obvious that she was brimming with frustration, her shoulders slumped in resignation as she nodded, taking his hand in hers and turning away from the crowd.
Erik led them back to Christine's building, where they sat on the stoop and tried to enjoy their meal in peace. A feeling of uncomfortable awkwardness surrounded them, and they ate without making much more than simple small talk.
Her eyes were vacant as she stared into the ether and munched on her burrito. Erik picked at his, watching her out of the corner of his eye. The atmosphere had become stifling and oppressive as the minutes ticked by in silence.
It was clear that she was still stewing over what had happened.
This was what Erik had been trying to avoid when he'd asked her not to interfere. He needed to ensure that the chasm he could sense developing between them never had a chance to grow.
Christine was the best thing that ever happened to him, and Erik was determined not to let her slip through his fingers by being reticent.
He used his knee to give hers a light tap, and she turned his way with a tight smile.
"You know…I don't usually like a combination of such strong flavors, but…this is quite good. You were right," he ventured, keeping his voice light and hoping that complementing her taste might be a good start.
Bumping his arm with her shoulder, Christine grinned, "Well…when you're strapped for cash like I am, it pays to know where all the good, cheap eats are."
"Of course," he murmured, a soft chuckle passing his lips as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer, dropping a kiss in her hair.
Giggling, she leaned away a bit so she could see him and stated in disbelief, "I swear, I still can't wrap my head around the fact that you've never had a breakfast burrito!"
Erik's brow rose in feigned annoyance, but he was glad that he'd been able to make her smile again, even if it was at his expense.
He shook his head and rolled his eyes as he manufactured the severe tone of an aggravated teacher having to yet again explain something to a willful student.
"Miss Daae, I'm sure you know that I'm selective about what I eat," he chided her. He turned away, a wisp of a smile breaking his stern façade as he quipped, "What can I say? I was spoiled by my mother's cooking growing up. Sue me."
Christine burst out laughing at his contrived seriousness, to the point she had to wipe tears from her eyes. Once she managed to catch her breath, she curled herself around his arm and lay her head there with a contented sigh.
Erik rested his head atop hers, thankful that his willingness to be a bit self-deprecating had dissolved any remaining unease between them.
Erik would've liked to relish the moment much longer, but he knew Christine had to get to work. Giving her side a slight poke with his elbow, he tilted his head in the direction of the sidewalk, whispering, "Time to go, angel."
Slipping from his grasp, Christine nodded and stood up, holding a hand out for him to take. Enfolding his hand in hers, he rose and led her to a nearby waste bin so she could throw their trash away.
From there, they walked to the street corner and hailed another cab to take them back to the shop.
They arrived with only ten minutes to spare before the store was meant to open. Erik let her in through the back door, busying himself with turning on the workroom lights and figuring out which project he was going to focus on next, while Christine went into the office and opened the large floor safe, removing a pre-counted till from the rack inside.
She made quick work of counting back the money to ensure accuracy and signed her initials in the cashier's checkout ledger.
Locking the safe and the door behind her, she breezed past Erik as he was laying out cleaning supplies on his table and headed into the shop.
For the next few minutes, Erik examined the shelves of instruments, trying to decide which one most needed his attention. He wasn't behind in any work orders, so he could afford to be selective today.
As he went from cubby to cubby, his keen hearing picked up on the soft sounds of Christine puttering around the shop as she rushed through her opening routine: the ding of the register opening as she put the till in, the trilling of the sound system as soft, classical music flowed through the speakers, and the clicking of switches as she turned the store lights on.
Last but not least, he heard the snick of the bolt as the front door was unlocked and the screeching of the security gate as it was raised.
Open for business, Erik's mind sighed as he turned back to his perusal.
Deciding he just wanted to relax and not have to think for a while, Erik pulled down the violin case and brought it over to the table. He opened it and removed the instrument he'd come to cherish and rely on, laying it out on his cleaning mat.
He continued where he left off, finishing the small section he'd started days ago before moving on to another. His mood was tranquil as he worked, tuning out everything around him.
Time passed in slow minutes as Erik concentrated on his work, but then the sweet, melodic sound of Christine's voice streamed into the room.
She was humming along with the song playing on the speakers, So This is Love.
Erik's eyes closed as he lost himself in her soothing, dulcet tones.
The door chime tinkling and Christine's singing voice being abruptly cut off snapped him out of his reverie. Hearing the glide of a customer's shoes over the carpet and Christine's cheerful greeting, Erik turned back to his work with a lamenting groan.
The customer didn't stay long. As soon as all was quiet again, Erik walked over to the workroom door and opened it a crack. Christine was at the counter, price-tagging items to be put out.
Hearing the door creek, Christine turned, her smile serene as she saw him standing in the doorway.
Erik crooked his finger with a wicked grin, beckoning her to come to him.
She drifted over to him, his heated gaze running the length of her body as she moved closer.
When Christine reached the doorway, Erik wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her inside. With the agility of a maestro, he slammed the door behind him and maneuvered her up against it, attacking her mouth with a passionate kiss.
Her response was immediate as she opened up to him, allowing him entrance. Their tongues danced as Erik teased a hand under her thigh, running it up to the back of her knee to lift her leg over his hip.
Christine could feel his hardness as he ground into her and nibbled little love bites at her neck, breathing, "Your voice is so beautiful…you are so beautiful…I wish I could listen to you sing forever…"
"Erik…" Christine's eyes rolled into the back of her head, moaning as his words washed over her.
Just then, the doorbell tinkled again as another customer walked in.
Erik stilled, putting a hand over her mouth to silence her haggard breathing. They looked into each other's lust-filled eyes as they worked to calm themselves, a few seconds passing before he loosened his hold and backed up to let her go.
Christine broke the awkward silence first, stifling a giggle as she straightened her hair and clothing.
"Remember what you said earlier about not starting something?" her voice dripped with seduction as she slid her hand onto the doorknob behind her. "It goes both ways, you know…"
His gaze burned into her as he nodded slowly. It took every ounce of willpower he had to resist the urge to rip her clothes off and take Christine on the table.
Before she could open the door, he managed to find his voice and whisper, "Christine…I know I should've said this to you before, but…I love you."
She smiled at him with a well of devotion in her eyes and replied, "I know…"
Twisting the doorknob, she blew him a kiss and slipped away.
It took Erik a few minutes of just standing there and breathing as he tried to compose himself, staring at the closed door as if he could Christine through it on the other side.
Giving himself a light slap on his unmasked cheek as a reality check, Erik shook his head and went back to the much-needed meditation of restoring the violin.
Hours passed as a few more customers came and went while Erik continued his work in quiet contemplation. He'd made good headway with the front and would soon turn his attention to the back. If he kept at it with consistency, Erik estimated he could have it fully restored in another month.
He was just starting to ruminate on the possibility of cooking Christine something nice for dinner and the trip to the grocery store that would require when his ears pricked up at a mumbled voice that was disturbing in its familiarity.
He couldn't hear Christine all that well through the door, and although she seemed cordial as always, something in her greeting sounded much more…personal. Much more than she would be with a random customer.
Whoever this person was…Christine knew him.
Erik crept over to the door so he could better listen in, and what he heard turned his blood to ice.
"La mia bella Cristina! {My beautiful Christine!} How are you this lovely day?" The voice drawled with a practiced air of jollity.
Erik recognized the husky baritone in an instant, and his heart clenched, blood rushing in his ears so that he couldn't make out much more of the conversation.
Why the fuck is Rocco here? his disbelieving mind bellowed as he stood there, seething in quiet rage.
This is not happening, the mantra ran on repeat through his consciousness, his head feeling like it was ready to burst.
The musical sound of Christine laughing managed to break through his fit of pique, calming him enough to think clearly.
The voices on the other side began to coalesce again, and as Erik continued to listen, he was floored by what he heard next.
"…Ya know, Matteo here tells me that a friend of his is very sweet on you." Rocco teased, his throaty laugh reverberating through the room.
"I, uh…I don't know what to say…" she trailed off with a nervous titter, and an unpleasant sensation trickled down his spine at where this conversation might be going.
"You see, Raoul and my boy were at…college together," Erik knew damn well that was a lie.
"Raoul? Raoul de Chagny?" Christine asked, confusion plain in her voice.
"That's him, yeah," Rocco confirmed, his tone oddly forthcoming. Erik wasn't sure why, but he couldn't help the feeling that something about this exchange was…off. "Well…until my son had to come back to help with our…family business. According to Matteo, he was always going on about Christine this, Christine that. I don't know how you two met, but you must've made one hell of an impression!"
Erik opened the door a crack, taking great pains to keep himself from being discovered. Rocco was there, on the other side of the counter from Christine, decked out in his customary Italian suit.
Matteo and Sal were milling around behind him, wearing outfits that were…less expensive. Seeing them there was no surprise. As his sons, they were Rocco's lieutenants and bodyguards. They were always at his side.
But then his gaze landed on Christine. Her arms were wrapped around herself, which he knew meant she was upset. The look of unease on her face had him boiling.
Enough was enough. This was going to end. Now.
Without taking a further moment for rational thought, Erik dashed through the door, stalking up to Christine and maneuvering himself in front of her.
He slammed his hands down on the counter, and she flinched at the cacophonous sound, stepping backward as he leaned forward. His voice was cold and detached as he spat, "Why are you here?"
Rocco cackled as his eyes filled with a kind of demented delight at Erik's ire. "Erico! Se non e il figlioli prodigo!" {Erico! If it isn't the prodigal son!} he smirked, his arms spread wide in a fake display of merriment.
Erik's fingers were turning white with how hard he was gripping the edge of the glass as he snarled, "Leave. Now."
After that, the whole situation went downhill. Fast.
Christine was no master of foreign languages, but she had memorized enough arias and operettas during her time at LaGuardia that she could at least recognize Italian when she heard it.
Conti had seemed to find Erik's wrath humorous at first, but his attitude shifted in an instant after something Erik had said.
She might have been able to make out a few words here and there if Erik and Conti weren't barreling on at a furious, blistering pace.
She looked between them in astonishment, wishing she knew what the hell was going on. His name wasn't Erik? How did he know Mister Conti? And why was he fluent in Italian? Myriad questions bombarded her, leaving Christine lost in a haze of disorientation.
Conti barked out…something…but the uproarious laughter coming from the other two men drowned it out. The effect it had on Erik was immediate.
Where before, his rage was simmering just below the surface in his tense stance and brittle words, now his fury had become tangible as his eyes darkened, and his hands curled into fists.
Christine was certain that something very bad was about to happen when Erik roared, "Maeldetto maiale!" {Fucking pig!}
He surged forward, and when it looked as though he was about to launch himself over the counter, Christine hurled herself at him, seizing him by the arm and shrieking, "Erik! No!"
She tugged at him, pulling with all her might as she attempted to drag him away, but with little success. Erik's anger was fueling his rage, making it feel as if she had the insurmountable task of moving a brick wall.
Conti growled, his hand going toward the inside of his jacket, but Matteo and Sal ran over and grabbed his arms before he could finish the move. They held him back, trying to talk him down in a bevy of agitated Italian.
With her hands wrapped around his straining bicep, Christine could feel Erik's entire body thrumming with the tension of a taught piano string on the verge of snapping.
She had no choice but to make a very deliberate move that might wind up having terrible consequences. He wasn't going to like it. Of that, Christine had no doubt, but she could think of no other way to command his attention.
She didn't stop to overthink it further as she took his face in her hands. Pulling his head down to hers, she moved his mask aside and brought them cheek to cheek, nuzzling his ear and whispering in a strangled voice, "Angel…please…"
Erik's body shook and his breathing was ragged as he wrapped his arms around her, his fists white-knuckled at her back. His chest heaved with the exertion it took to keep himself from lashing out.
Tense minutes ticked by as his and Conti's labored breathing was the only sound that could be heard in the vastness of the space.
Christine ran her hands up and down Erik's back, and after a time, she was able to feel the strain in his muscles ease. He blew out a long exhale, sagging against her as the pressure inside of him finally released.
She could hear the others' footsteps and was able to just glimpse the three men as they backed away from the counter. Craning her neck around Erik's body for a better view, Christine entreated in a weary voice, "Mister Conti…I don't know what this is all about, but…I don't want any more trouble. I think it would be best if you leave. Please."
Conti's gaze bore into her, the maliciousness in his eyes telling her that this wasn't over. He shrugged off the hold of the other two men, grumbling as he made a show of brushing away imaginary creases in his suit's expensive fabric.
Adjusting his jacket, he then ran a hand over his slicked-back hair to ensure that not a single strand was out of place.
"Piccola merda ipocrita," {Self-righteous little shit,} he ground out between his teeth, his glare burning into Erik's back as he spit on the floor and tore out the door, his minions following close behind.
An uneasy stillness fell over Erik and Christine as they stood there, taking solace in each other's comforting embrace. When Erik's breathing had evened out, he pulled away to lean back on the counter, running his trembling hands down his face.
Christine's hand came up to cover her mouth, her eyes filling with a sheen of tears. As she closed them with a shaky exhale, a few spilled down her face.
Lifting a tentative hand to his face, she caressed his cheek with a tender touch before settling his mask back into place. Erik's brow was furrowed, his eyes downcast as his chin quivered. Christine could tell he was doing everything in his power not to fall apart in front of her.
He seemed so…defeated. Almost as if he couldn't bear for her to look at him.
"Erik…talk to me…please?" she implored him, her hand sliding down his arm to curl into his.
Erik could hear the tremor in her voice that she was trying very hard to suppress, and a torrent of guilt crashed down him. It bubbled and simmered in his veins, turning into a deep well of anger at himself.
He is complacency had allowed him to become so wrapped up in Christine that he never saw this coming.
Jerking his hand from her grasp with a grimace, he backed away as though she were on fire. Erik passed by Christine, unable to look at her or even allow their skin to touch as he shoved the workroom door open and disappeared inside.
Christine didn't wait before she went stomping after him. After what had just happened, there was no way in hell she was going to let him shut down and push her away.
When she entered the room, Christine could see Erik hunched over the table, his fingers gripping the edge so hard she thought his nails might be scoring the wood.
She took a few cautious steps inside, closing the door behind her. She could tell Erik was on edge, and though she wanted them to talk, was wary of antagonizing him further.
"Erik…?" she called out, trying to keep her tone level. He didn't answer.
Any other time, Christine found that dealing with Erik's tendency to keep things close to the vest was all a matter of patience. She'd accepted that Erik was a complicated person with layers that were going to take time and effort to peel away.
But this had gone beyond the small things a person might not want to share amid a new relationship.
Erik was keeping very significant things from her. Like his real damn name. It was as if she didn't even know who he was anymore.
All through their relationship, Raoul had hidden certain aspects of his home life from her. It was months before she learned the full truth of how affluent his family really was, the schism between him and Philippe, and what his mother truly thought of her.
Christine didn't like Raoul's hedging and dodging then, and she wasn't about to take Erik's outright deceit now.
"Erik!" She hissed, her patience worn thin as she continued in a blunt tone, "You can't keep shutting me out. There's a lot of things I can let go…but not this. If you want, I can give you some time to calm down, but then I'm coming back in here, and we're going to talk."
Erik leaned over the table, head hanging and shoulders tense. He had hoped that, by walking away, Christine would take the hint and leave him be.
He'd forgotten how stubborn she was.
If anything, her innate inability to leave well enough alone only managed to piss him off even more. "No!" he shook his head and slammed his fist on the table, the thunderous sound making Christine recoil. "For once, Christine, just leave me be!"
"Hey!" she barked, stomping over to the work area and grabbing Erik by the shoulder to make him look at her. "Nuh-uh. If you think you can make me walk away by being an obnoxious asshole…after what I saw out there…" she pointed toward the workroom door.
Erik sat down at the table, focusing his attention on tidying his cleaning supplies. Christine was astute enough to recognize the absent-minded way he was fiddling with the brushes and bottles.
Erik was meticulous about his gear. There was no reason for him to be doing this other than that it was a distraction and a way to calm his nerves.
It was also a calculated move. She knew he tended to focus on work to make people think he was ignoring them when he didn't want to talk.
"Enough is enough, Erik!" Christine yelled, pulling the brush from his grip and tossing it on the table. Erik's eye twitched, and she knew that little performance had gotten his attention. "I want to know what the hell that was all about out there! How do you know Mister Conti? He's been the building super since the store opened, and I don't remember him ever mentioning anything about you. Not once."
Erik's head snapped toward her, his eyes blazing as he growled, "He is no superintendent! Conti is a dangerous man, Christine! You will stay away from him. Do you understand me? And you will not let him anywhere near this shop. Do I make myself clear?"
"What?" Christine blinked at his vehement, nonsensical demands. "What are you talking about? Look, I don't know what the story between you two is, but he has always been nothing but nice to me. He may be a little…spirited…at times, but I always figured that was an Italian thing. It's never bothered me before…until you got into it with him today. How can you expect me to believe what you're saying after all that? I can't if you won't tell me the truth!"
Erik's snigger was dark and manic as he turned to her and spat, "That's rich, coming from you. I'm castigated for not being honest when we both know you've been lying to my face."
"Wh..what?" Christine's hand flew to her chest, her heart hammering. She gulped down the lump in her throat and snapped back, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"You know very well what I'm talking about," Erik grumbled, retrieving the errant brush and returning it to its proper place. "A short-lived relationship in high school that ended with an amicable parting, but the moment you lay eyes on him again, you react like that? Do you think I am so besotted with you that it's made me a blind fool? I think we're both aware there's much more to that story."
Christine's eyes were cold, her tone brittle as she replied, "That was out of line, and you know it. Yes…there are things about my relationship with Raoul that I haven't told you. But I wasn't keeping from you on purpose. What happened was more painful than you can imagine…and I just haven't been ready to tell you about it yet. I know you can understand that."
"But I have to unburden everything to you? On demand?" Erik argued, voice breaking as he fought to keep his roiling emotions at bay.
"I didn't say that!" Christine shouted, tears spilling from her eyes. "But…he knew you! He called you Erico! How can I be with someone who won't even tell me his real name? How can I trust—"
The sound of a chime tinkling echoed through the room, cutting her off as the front door opened and someone walked in.
Christine's gaze snapped to the doorway, her shoulders slumping as she realized she had no choice but to cut this battle short. Straightening her spine, she sniffed and brushed her tears away.
Sweeping her hands down her blouse to ensure she was calm and composed, Christine walked to the workroom door in stony silence. Placing her hand on the knob, she didn't turn to look at him as she uttered, "Go home, Erik. I can't deal with this right now. But we will be finishing this conversation tonight. You can be sure of that."
She slipped away, and the door fell shut with a soft thud.
Erik's chest was heaving as tears filled his eyes. His eyes slammed shut, the tears spilling forth as his face crumpled. Overcome with guilt and rage, he blindly grabbed a bottle of cleaning solution off the table and threw it across the room, hearing it shatter against the wall.
He wrenched himself away from the table, the stool he was sitting on fell backward in his haste. Not even bothering to clean up his mess, Erik tore out of the room, slamming the backdoor behind him.