Guardian Angel

Chapter 13: Breaking Point

A/N: I am so excited for this one! Anyone else excited?! Please do leave a comment, even if it's something simple! Let me know what you think! I'm stoked for the next chapter ;) Also, this is kind of the halfway point?

Bread, vegetables, laundry...bread, vegetables, laundry...bread, vegetables...bread, veg-

Erik...

Christine huffed in annoyance as yet another ball of dough fell victim to her distractedness and punched it down, accidentally spraying flour all over the front of her apron. Only two batches came out halfway decent and they would have to suffice as there was no way she could make three more with Erik swimming through her mind. It had been nearly an hour since he left her in the kitchen and he still hadn't returned to her-not that she wanted him to, but it was the principle of it. He obviously didn't want to spend time with her, so why would she want to spend time with him?

Sitting with him while he worked was sure to be a bore in any case...no, not interesting at all with his sketches and-and the movement of his hands. In fact, she'd rather be alone than have to answer his stupid questions about which window shapes and columns fit a room best. That was his job, not hers. Solitude was the best company anyways, especially when one's husband holds no interest in them; and she was quite certain that many women found solace in it, likely even submitting themselves to household chores-just as she was-to make it more invigorating. Perhaps solitude could be her new husband, it had no secrets to keep and didn't even need to be fed or clothed!

Don't be silly.

Of course, she couldn't marry something that didn't exist in a physical sense, besides, she was already married-well married on paper; she had her doubts if Erik actually considered her as his wife since there was no...consummation. Nor would there ever be with the way he was behaving. Even if she was courageous enough to kiss him, who's to say anything was to come of it apart from the mortification of being a lecherous woman? If he wanted her, then he would have to make the first move.

"Christine, do you have a moment?" came his voice from behind her, making her entire body tense and bringing forth an incessant pulsing in her ears. "I wish to speak with you."

She did not respond, instead she blinked away her budding tears and prayed for her cheeks to return to the normal dull pink as she was certain they were bright as a tomato. Her shoulder blades tightened when she heard quiet footfalls approaching her and she quickly dusted off the front of her apron, worried that if he saw her in disarray, then he might think less of her.

"Christine?" he asked as he arrived at her side, his hand resting on her forearm. "Are you alright?"

Heaven, help her.

With her jaw clenched, she peeked over at him and gave him a terse nod. "Yes," she squeaked out, "I-I am just about to ready the dough for the oven. Would you like to help me?"

What in the world possessed her to ask him that? How was she going to control herself with him so near-when her sanity was already slipping into nothingness? When she was approaching her breaking point?

"You will have to show me," he said with that damn crooked smile of his. "I have never made bread before."

Christine turned her face from him and carefully sucked in a shuddering breath, trying to keep quiet enough so as to not let him know that his arrival had stolen all the air from her lungs. He was going to the death of her and he hadn't a clue!

"Wash your hands and I'll show you," she whispered meekly, gesturing to the sink without looking at him for even a second.

Erik complied immediately, rolling up his sleeves and cleansing his hands. As he reached for the towel hanging on the wall behind the sink, the hem of his shirt untucked from his trousers, revealing a small patch of skin. Her eyes found it embarrassingly fast and she couldn't look away, not when her mind wandered to how smooth it would feel under her fingers, or to what noise he might make if she grabbed him there while he-