Him.

Chapter IX

"Erik?" Philippa came into the living area where Erik was holding his two children in his arms delicately.

"Hm?" He hummed, watching as the two angels in his lap stirred slightly from the vibration of his chest.

His wife was slowly showing her small bump, and Erik was slowly remembering how beautiful she was when she was pregnant. The m sight never failed to capture him in his wake, but there was always the wish which nagged him. Sure, her pale skin was beautiful with stretch marks, but he wondered what the contrast would look like against the skin of one darker.

"Look, an anonymous composer is dedicating all of his work to you."

She showed him the newspaper and pursed her lips.

"That's odd," he mumbled as he racked his eyes over the paper and wondered what male composer would ever do such a thing.

Not many knew of him any longer, and there was definitely no way that it was Haya. They hadn't spoken since she'd left without saying goodbye. Erik hardly considered a shallow note a genuine goodbye.

"It is," Philippa agreed and snuggled close to her husband, petting her son on the head with her dexterous fingers. Her nails were long, and each one reminded Erik of the elegance painted in pictures, even though he knew very well most women didn't have perfect nails like Philippa did. And then he remembered that he and her were getting a bit older. She was especially reaching an age that would result in her pregnancy becoming rather hard. Did she know this? Was it alarming her? Did she hate him for impregnating her again?

"Darling?" He asked worriedly, and Philippa's head snapped up as she looked at her husband with worry.

"What is it? You look pale," she stated and pressed her hand against his left cheek, caressing the unmasked skin with concern.

"You do not hold any ill will against me for impregnating you again at your age, do you?" The question came out in a stutter, but Philippa didn't seem to notice. She laughed, after he'd asked, thinking him an odd man for being so selfless.

"No, Erik, I do not. I want to have this child, and in no way am I weak! This is going to be good for us... for both of us," she assured him and placed her lips on his, sealing her promise.

"As long as you're sure, darling," Erik muttered, feeling as though something dreadful was weighing upon them all. He worried that she would pass on, and what would he do then?

Haya wouldn't talk to him, and in no way would she want to help raise Henri and Marjory, no matter what he could come up with to guilt her into it. He had no idea where or what she was doing, as nothing had come of her pseudo name. There had been no music, there had been no word, and maybe Erik was worried. For now he was worried only of Philippa and her expecting.

Eventually, it would worry him, but for now there were other things to focus on.