Page 25 of Angel's Fall
4. Shades
The room that had beenhers in her first weeks in the house on the lake still felt so comfortable to Christine as she lingered there to dress. Erik had taken such care to fill it with her things, making the chamber full of stolen paintings and out-of-date furniture truly hers.
Yet, it was lonely there without him, the pit in her stomach growing deeper as rehearsal drew near. She stared at the blank space above her vanity where a mirror would be in a normal room as she yawned. She wished she could crawl into the warm bed and sleep the day away.
It was so much easier to pretend there was no world up there that wanted to chase Christine’s lover down and pillory her for protecting him. Just like it was easier to do what she had done last night and let his music and her desire overcome her entirely. Erik had kept his promise: she could still feel the ache of their lovemaking between her thighs, and it was delicious. Her skin prickled with gooseflesh as the same eyes that continuously enthralled her settled upon her.
“You look nervous,” Erik murmured as Christine looked up at him. Christine could see similar apprehension in the scarred landscape of his face.
“Help me with this first.” Christine indicated the half-buttoned back of her dark green dress. Erik obeyed, and she took a deep breath as he set to work behind her with deft fingers.
“I’m not used to attending to your buttons to get your clotheson. This is a new experience.”
“At least you know the geography.” She swallowed, looking down as the dress tightened around her bust as Erik finished, yards of moss-colored taffeta swathing her body like a secret only he knew. “He’s going to be there. Today.”
Erik froze behind her. “So soon?” When Christine turned to him, Erik’s eyes were hard and his jaw tense. “You really think he’ll believe this charade for a fortnight?”
“I told you: he’ll believe because I will make him,” Christine countered. “So I can protect you.”
Erik’s anxiety melted away the instant her palm came to rest against his cheek. He covered her hand with his, caressing the gold ring that signified her promise. “You shouldn’t have to...”
“It’s too late. But I swear to you, it won’t be real. It’s just another scene. I won’t take this off and you’ll know the truth.”
“And while you play this role, what will I do?” Erik demanded, pressing his forehead to her and rending her heart with the pain in his voice and eyes. “Do you expect me to watch while that boy follows you about my opera?”
“You can watch and see it when I don’t offer him anything a good virginal girl wouldn’t. I’ll blush when he tries to take my hand. I’ll protest if he tries to kiss me.” Erik closed his eyes, then opened them as Christine wove her fingers lovingly through his hair. “Or, you can have mercy on yourself, which I would prefer.”
“You think I’ll be able to stay away?” Erik asked with a bitter laugh.
“If I beg it of you, maybe.” Christine pressed a kiss to his desiccated cheek. “I don’t want you in any more pain. Turn to music. Let it distract you and save you like always.”
Erik gripped her tightly, as if he was holding onto solid ground in hopes that his fears would not wash him away. “What kind of music would you have me use to fill the day?”
“An opera,” Christine whispered back, tears threatening as she considered the beauty and absurdity of it. “Your opera, the one you’ve started already.”
“An opera,” Erik echoed, inspiration sparking in his eyes and giving Christine the barest glimmer of hope. “In two weeks?”
