Let The Dream Descend

Our Games of Make Believe

Christine woke up in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar place. Slowly rubbing her eyes, she felt the harsh edges of a bejeweled ring sweeping across her cheek. She looked down at the gorgeous diamond ring, gleaming even darkness, and all of last night's events flooded her mind.

The performance...Raoul...my angel...

Christine was silent as she stared unconsciously down at the rock on her finger, thoughts of marrying her angel swirling around her still drowsy mind. I agreed to do this...I should have no doubts. Suddenly, the young soprano was jolted back to reality when a loud jumble of disharmonies filled the room; as though one had slammed his fists angrily down upon the weary keys of an old organ. She jumped slightly and let out a loud gasp, obviously frightened by the sudden sound.

Erik, having incredible hearing, could hear Christine 's gasp from down the hall. He quickly rushed to her room and pushed the door ajar, so that he was not entirely in her room, but close enough to see if she was okay.

"Christine, are you alright?" His softly spoken words earned the attention of the young soprano, who sat on her bed with a perplexed expression adorning her lovely features.

She nodded her head slowly as she meets the masked man's gaze.

"Yes," she said nervously. "Your playing startled me."

Erik nodded his head in slight relief, realizing it was nothing too serious. "I apologize, Christine. I was merely frustrated. Forgive me," he said gently.

The young soprano shook her head with a small, yet genuine smile, accepting his apology. "It is fine, angel, no harm done," she assured him softly.

"Well, then I shall leave you to get dressed. I will expect you in the music room in precisely one hour for a voice lesson," Erik quipped, his voice terse, and much sterner than originally intended. Christine nodded her head and looked down, trying to hide how affected she was from his tone.

He wants to marry me...and yet speaks to me in such a manner?

Erik noticed this and sighed, before slowly entering the room to tilt her chin up. Her doe brown eyes met his own with a surprising intensity in the dimlit room. "What ever can be the matter, dear Christine?" He asked her, trying with tremendous effort not to pull the young soprano into his arms and comfort her. She bit her bottom lip and shook her head as she suddenly came to notice the gentle way in which he touched her chin, rubbing small, comforting circles into the alabaster skin.

"Nothing, my angel," she pronounced quickly. Erik sighed, knowing her tendencies to talk faster than normal when she lies, although it is something that she does not make habit of.

"Christine, darling, do not lie to me," Erik sighed. He reached up and gently caressed her cheek, marveling in the warmth it held. Christine's breathing hitched slightly at the action, a soft sigh escaping her lips as he held her face in both of his gloved hands. She closed her eyes and slightly leaned into his touch, unable to resist him and his nimble fingers. Even the smallest of actions of affection could drive her crazy if they were from her angel.

Did Christine love him? She did not know. But she knew that she would have no problem with her new living arrangements. Erik was a mysterious person, which naturally appealed to the young soprano's curious personality. The time they spent together fueled the flames of emotions that Christine was feeling for her angel of music. Erik smiled softly as he felt his fiancée lean into his touch, his gaze softening as she opened her eyes and looked up at him, her cheeks flushing lightly.

"I... I'm just... Not used to this yet," Christine mumbled. Erik sighed softly and continued to stroke her soft cheek.

"You will become adjusted soon. If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask, my Christine," he assured the young girl. Christine nodded her head and slowly got up, pushing the soft covers of the bed aside so that she may walk towards the closet. As she walked past him, Erik couldn't help but stare after her small, yet shapely form. The thin fabric of the nightgown highlighted every curve of her body and he adored the way that her hips swayed as she walked.