Love Revived

Chapter VI

"Christine, about earlier with the note to the Vicomte, I apolo-"

"No need," I assured him. "Raoul is... a temperamental man, and he likes things done his way or no way at all. He possesses a resilience that I, myself, cannot handle. He thinks simply that I knew him before I knew another man that we are destined to be henceforward."

"I knew not."

"I expected you not to, in all the honesty I possess. Erik, I do not love him."

"Do you love me?"

I had been walking calmly by his side just then, until he asked me that question. I knew my answer, for Love Never Dies. How was I to explain that to him, though. I was supposed to be naïve and innocent. I couldn't love him yet or he would have suspicions. I don't know how I know this, but I know Erik. A child that was so like him alerted him as Raoul's somehow, but he knew that I did not love Raoul by just looking at me. The man was head-strong.

"I care for you deeply, and I am sure I shall love you soon."

He smiled at that notion, as he wasn't sure if I would even care for him at all.

"Congratulations, are certainly in order, for a little digression."

I giggled and squeezed his hand tightly, hopping up and down excitedly. I was always a child at heart.

"Thank you! I cannot wait to sing day by day as a star. I'll be as famous as Carlotta one day."

"No, you shall be ever more so, Christine, do not get lower than her," he chuckled.

"Your kindness is above what is needed, Erik. I thank you nonetheless."

Stopping our walk, he turned to me and placed his free hand agaisnt my reddened cheek.

"You deserve every praise I can offer, and every kind word that may slip my mind. There is no need to thank me, your prospect of love is more than enough."

If the real sixteen-year-old me could see Erik like this, in a loving and kind form, I'm not sure I would have been with Raoul then either. My stupid mind kept wondering what on earth I had been doing all these years. It was as if this vicious cycle kept continuing, my mind telling me that I was a horrible person, and that I had been the one to cause my own grief, my own deeath. It all felt like my fault, honestly. What else could I say? It was me who chnged Erik for the worse, it was I who betrayed him, and it was also me who cause Meg to kill me. I put the gun to my own stomach.

"Chrsitine, you look grey."

I snapped my gaze to Erik, a demeanor of concern washed over the un-masked side of his face.

"Just, doubting myself is all."

"Why, you know that you are a perfect fit for Prima Donna."

Not exactly what I was talking about, my love.

"It's not that, my mind wanders to far off places and worries me over trifle rows."

He nodded, as if an over-active immagination was simply his answer, too. Maybe it was, my mind echoed. Maybe he lost his cool becasue he only knew doubt, never anything secure.

STOP! I screamed in my own head, trying to remove the words Maybe and Doubt from my vocabulary. They were toxic, and for now I was living moment by moment, hoping nothing went awry.

"Christine, honestly, love, you have my utmost concern as of now. You look sick, maybe we should lie down?"

"We?" I asked quietly and hopefully. I knew he meant it as just lying down, but the hope in my voice was stronger than a lady of my age's should be.

"Y-yes, but if you wish me to take the sofa-"

I kissed him on the lips, stopping further speech as he tried to grasp the concept that, yes, I did wish to sleep with him.

"No, please, I've never slept alone before, I wish not to start now."

"Than you shan't," he assured, very unsure himself. I could tell that he was buying my little, white lie. I had slept alone many times when living with Raoul. He would go to drink and gamble, leaving for weeks sometimes when Gustave was small. When the child got older and noticed his "father's" absence, Raoul stopped leaving for long periods of time.

"Do you have a night-gown I could borrow?" I asked knowing rather well he did.

"Yes."

He guided me to my room and slipped out something from the bottom drawer, a rather conservative gown of white, long and covering almost every inch of my skin. I shook my head and peered into the armoire, trying to block out how strange it was that he had these clothes perpared for me. It was a strange thought, if thought about enough, but I knew it had been his dream for me to love him for years. This was only in hopes I would love him more. I hoped he understood I would love him even if he couldn't provide for me the very best. And believe me, the very best was certainly what I was pawing through. Fine silks and linens, all for my use.

"This one seems more fitting," I hummed, showing the light-pink gown to him that reached my knees and had a lower neckline. The dip was nothing compared to the costume I had worn that day.

"If you are comfortable, Christine, but only if so."

"I am quite fine."

He motioned to the washroom and I smiled, gently caressing his bicep before exiting his presence. I could hear the creek of the room's door and the soft step of his shoes as he went to change himself, I hope. I would hated for him to sleep in his day clothes. Then again, they were the only thing I had ever seen him bar his self in a lack of clothing. 

After I changed, I let my hair down and brushed through the unruly curls, their brunette mass falling over my shoulders in a large swoop. They were heavy, and I often found myself putting them back, but I didn't complain often.

I climbed in bed in hopes that it would ease Erik's mind when he came back. It seemed to, as when he came back, he didn't hesitate to join me.

"Erik?"

"Christine?" He replied wearily as he laid down about a foot away from me.

"Come here," I said softly, settling into his hesitant embrace.

It took a while, but when he relaxed around me, we both drifted off into a blissful sleep.