A Woman's Devotion (Phantom Of The Opera x Reader)

6. Forbidden Attraction

Y/n's POV:

Had I been a smarter woman, I may have sought employment. However, I didn't see half as much urgency in our situation as Erik did. He thought the police would kick down our rickety wooden door at any moment. He even positioned one of our table's chairs in front of it while we slept. His reaction seemed ludicrous, but I wouldn't voice that opinion. Erik would do what he pleased, especially where his murders were concerned. At every bump in the night, he shoved me farther down the bed. In the morning, I awoke stuck in the crack between the brass frame and the wall.

On one of those mornings, in early April, I was attempting to free my arm from the crack between wall and bed. I stopped when Erik, in his daily mail reading, exclaimed a short laugh and an "aha!"

 "What is it?" I asked, raking a mess of (h/c) hair from my eyes.

 "I've just gotten the mail, and somebody's inquired about my ad. He wants me to tutor a ten-year-old boy in piano. How simple! Why, I'll teach him some scales, and we'll be departed soon after. I'll go meet them today."

Erik stood from our grimy table. He quickly pulled off his nightclothes and dressed in a fine suit. He replaced his mask over the deformed side of his face. I'd convinced him to sleep without it only a day after he showed me his true face, even after our first marital spat. He was hesitant over the idea at first, claiming he'd give me nightmares, but finally relented. At last, I got to nestle into the soft skin of his face whilst I slept.

 "Are you coming?" Erik asked, buttoning his gold-toned, silk waistcoat.

Eagerly, I rose from the bed.

 "May I?"

 "I don't see why not. It's all right to bring a man's wife, isn't it?"

Erik had an amused grin on his face. I stood on my toes to give him a peck on the cheek.

 "All right, my husband."

Erik pulled out my green dress from our chest of clothes. It was elegant and had a band of ivory satin ribbon across the waist.

 "Thank you." I said, pulling my nightgown over my head. 

I began putting on the undergarments I'd disregarded on the bedside table the night before.

Erik leaned back on the sofa, his chin upturned. His amber eyes scanned my feminine form. I wish I could say I blushed, but I didn't.

 "Like what you see?" I giggled. 

As I spoke, I draped my shift over my body.

 "I'll never tire of you, my dear."

We finished dressing and had a quick breakfast of bread and butter.

With my handbag clutched to my side, we walked the moldy halls of our apartment building. Once outside, the April sky was clear and warm on my face. The rain we'd been getting for the last few days had dampened my spirits along with being cooped in our single room, but the clear day was balm to my wounds.

Erik's took brisk strides with his long legs. I struggled to keep up, but I refused to be swallowed by the rolling crowds.

Eventually, we reached a smart looking neighborhood. Erik nodded at the letter and confirmed the street name. The Creole-style houses lined the street. Bright colors brought a smile to my lips. It was a drastic difference to the dreary complex we lived in, as the excitement of my own home was waning.

Erik stopped in front of a tall, yellow house with poppy-red shutters.

 "It's nice, isn't it?" Erik asked, gazing up at the tall house.