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March 25,1876
Her eyes fluttered open as a dusty stream of light flooded into the small room. For a moment she didn't know where she was or how she had gotten there. The small apartment was in more ruins than it had previously seemed, holes in the floor above them revealed the upstairs apartment slightly, the walls of the room were dingy, and the floor was filthy with dirt and rubble. It was quite the opposite of the night she'd experienced drenched in candlelight and serenaded by violin.
Erik was still resting, some of the makeup had smudged from his cheek and forehead, revealing the red pigmentation and the clay that covered his temple. In the night it was almost as if she was making love to a stranger. Seeing his face smooth and even with no blemish was extremely odd. She was glad the facade had faded, because she loved him for who he was not what he was disguising himself as.
He was lovely in his sleep, she'd never had the opportunity to wake with him still beside her. Christine watched his shoulders rise and fall like the steady current of a pond against the bank. His lips just barley separated, allowing air to flow in and out. The blankets hid his legs and stopped shortly above his waist. She sighed, he was art in its most organic form. She tried to keep still as to not disturb him; she hoped Erik would get the rest he had been lacking in the recent months.
She closed her eyes to relive the moments again: his mouth pressing so firmly against hers, their bodies adjoining in a harmonious clash of ecstasy, the expressions of intense pleasure on their faces-a thought of Raoul came tunneling in like an onslaught of the mind. She felt a sudden pang of guilt for leaving him in such a distressing manner as he was trying to kindly help a man in need. He was good. So good. Alas, not the good she needed.
He'd have searched or would be searching for her, she was sure of it. She would run away with Erik, she decided, looking at his peaceful face. When he woke she'd tell him she wanted to be with him. And she'd have a letter sent to Raoul, explaining that she couldn't go through with their engagement. To forget her, and marry someone worthy of himself, someone of appropriate social class and status, someone as equally interested. It was decided.
Erik grunted and turned from his side onto his back. She turned over, wanting to rest her eyes until he awoke. She felt his arm wrap around her just underneath her breasts. The sensation of his knuckles slightly against her skin sent shivers down her body.
"Good morning," Erik said, closing the gap between he and Christine. She gasped at the feeling of his body behind hers. He kissed her cheek and she couldn't help but reveal all of her pearly teeth at this small gesture. She turned towards him, eager to brief him on her plan, though he was ready to fill her every second with with love.
"Erik," she said, trying to get his attention as he wrapped her in close to him, throwing the blankets on top of her. She loved feeling warm and close to him, her attempt at talking to him was falling apart quickly as he distracted her with kisses and his compromising touch.
