The Masked Parisian

The Blessings

Christine nestled into Erik's neck as he carried her away from the opera house, he cradled her in his lap as the carriage began to move. She purred as he stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. She couldn't have felt happier than she was in this moment.

Erik couldn't stop smiling as he held Christine in his arms. She was so warm and soft, the complete opposite to the way he viewed himself. He lead her out of the carriage when they arrived at his townhouse. She looked around in wonder, the furnishings were expensive and elegant, the ceilings were high and it was all furnished in the newest style.
"This is my home." Erik said to Christine, standing behind her.
"It is a beautiful house." She commented. She was sure that he had lived beneath the opera house, but she saw now that either he had moved, or he was only a visitor to the opera.

Christine was glad of her light attire in the heat of the main room, lit heavily with candles. To her surprise, Erik removed his mask and placed it on the top of the fireplace. He stood before her, in front of the roaring flames and stared deeply into her eyes.
"Christine, if I have not made my feelings known, let me tell you. I-I love you." He stuttered. This all seemed so much harder in words rather than song. He watched as her face was illuminated by the candlelight, as he had always wanted, and she smiled up at him.

Christine felt as Erik took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. His face looked angular yet charming in the candlelight and she thought herself so in love she may combust.
"I never wish to be parted from you, from this day, Christine. Please, you are the only one who can save me from my solitude. Be with me, in the way that men and women are. Spend your life with me and let me love you." He pleaded. Christine felt a single tear fall onto her cheek. She giggled as he knelt onto one knee.
"Christine, be my bride, my one love, my music and my light." She pulled on his hand, wanting him to stand once again and lifted herself to kiss him softly on the lips.
"I love you." She whispered against his lips and they embraced, there in the living room of Erik's Parisian home, knowing that their life together had only just begun.

Christine awoke, the next morning, alone in her bed. Although, this was not the bed she had slept on during her time in the opera house, this bed was soft and plush, and located in Erik's townhouse. She thought back to what had happened the night before, Erik loved her, she knew this now. He had enchanted her with song, then had professed his love in words. She had been taken aback at his mention of marriage and soon put the thought to rest in his mind.
"Erik, my love. Please, for a short while, think not of marriage, think of being with me, our two souls together for a while until we stand before God." She had not wanted to hurt his feelings, but they had known each other for such a short amount of time, that she thought entering an engagement could be very risky indeed. She loved him, that was for sure. But she wanted to savour this time she had with him before they would be man and wife.

Erik sat with Daroga in his living room.
"What do you think she means of it?" Erik asked him, wanting a second opinion.
"Erik, the girl is young. She wants flowers and courting, not talks of eternity and marriage." Erik thought to himself, was Daroga right? Was Christine just in need of a little enjoyment on his part to agree to be his wife?
"She loves you." Daroga soothed Erik, knowing that this anxiety would be at the forefront of his mind.
"Just have fun, Lord knows you deserve it more than anyone." He jested Erik and he nodded, understanding that Christine might be his angel, but she was in fact a mortal girl, and a little wooing might be needed to warm her up to the idea of marriage.

Christine sat at breakfast and began to miss the opera house, where the atmosphere was humming and there were always people around. Here, she was alone, save for two servants and she began to feel rather alone.

At this moment, Erik entered, carrying a bunch of cream roses. He thought perhaps that a lighter shade might not go amiss. Christine beamed at him, glad for his company and bound over to him, retrieving the flowers.
"These are so beautiful Erik!" She reassured him. He was relieved to find her quite as in love as she had been the night before. Part of him feared that without the gentle persuasion of music, she would quite lose her interest in him. But, here she stood, so close that he could move millimetres and touch her, smiling up at him, with adoration in her eyes.
"What would you say to going to the market today, with Meg and Daroga?" Christine's mouth fell agape as she heard Erik's unexpected and uncharacteristic question.
"Of course! If you would like it, my love. It feels an eternity since I have seen Meg and you would like to be with your friend." He saw such a childlike innocence as she looked up at him, joy and excitement filling her gaze. She may have been a mortal, but Christine Daaé was no normal girl.