The next morning, Eric was very ashamed - as if he betrayed Christine, cheated on her. But his success in knowing the joys of the flesh inspired him. Yes, he was helped by a fake ring and deception, but Christine will not have to impersonate another. It's enough to get to know her better.
Because - to Eric's even greater shame - it turned out that in eight years, he hadn't really recognized Christine. What does she live in addition to music, what she dreams of, what she loves? He had almost forgotten the confession of the little girl, and as she grew up, Christina wasn't telling her Angel everything. Otherwise, he wouldn't have dabbled in the Viscount story.
He spent all morning preparing and was surprised to notice that each time he was able to communicate with people a little easier.
Cristina went down to the chapel this afternoon, where Eric was waiting for her.
- Cristina..." he called.
The girl met her:
- A ghost? - She asked with fear.
- Yes, it was me. Don't worry, I won't hurt you. - Eric slowed down and seemed to throw his head into the abyss: "Can we meet? At a cafe nearby? "Herodel.
- I know where it is," Christina said thoughtfully. - Do you want to meet? Outside the theatre?
- Yes, Christine, outside the theatre. To prove to you that I'm not up to anything bad. I'm not crazy.
- But you're a murderer... - Christine's voice was sad.
- Buquet... I didn't want to kill him, just scare him. It was an accident. I'm sorry.
In fact, Eric was being a little bit pitiful: he didn't feel sorry for Buquet. But he was sorry that this death had pushed Christine away from him.
- It's strange, for some reason, that you seem to be telling the truth.
- So you'll come? - Eric was holding his breath waiting for an answer.
- Okay. Half an hour later.
He listened to the rustling of her skirt as she got off her knees and held her hand to her chest because he was afraid her heart would pop out.
For the first time, everything went terribly wrong. And no, it wasn't that Eric came without a mask: Christine didn't even tremble when she saw him. It's just that Eric was too insistent to ask Christine, and he was shaking himself, but he couldn't stop. And also ordered lamb meat, which Christina hated, and therefore sluggishly picked side dishes. The apotheosis was the question of forgotten hobbies - when Christina heard that in her distant childhood when Gustav Daae was alive, she dreamt of making hats, Eric could not contain his laughter - and was rewarded with an abridged look. Eventually, Christina escaped without saying goodbye.
For the second time, Eric made a deal with the modification and, when it came to hats, stood up and gallantly offered Cristina a hand.
- Where do you want to take me? - Cristina asked suspiciously.
- It's not far. You have nothing to be afraid of, Christine, there are plenty of people around, and I'm not crazy enough to do things in the spirit of a Ghost.
Once in the kingdom of felt, feathers, artificial flowers and ribbons, Christina was overwhelmed. The modist who was told by Eric that his fiancée had a blessing to make her own hat, personally undertook to show Kristina what to do.
- Tomorrow the glue will dry up - and you can take it back, - said the modist, with a happy look of wiping his hands.
The ice was broken.
Eric didn't count his attempts, but every day he felt like he was getting a little closer to his goal. Soon, Christina will be out of her mind and will finally see the man in Erica. He'll realize that he just didn't know what it was like to be an ordinary man.
They fed ducks in the pond of the Vincennes forest - because Christine didn't do it a long time ago, they bought a lot of sweets - because Christine said that since she's not a ballerina anymore, she has the right to eat her favorite chocolate. They listened to a street musician - and Kristina suggested that Eric dance herself. He was timid and inexperienced, but Christina laughed at his efforts, and for that laugh, Eric was ready to forgive her even for betrayal.
And he couldn't help but admit that the hat thing was a very successful one.
And the moment Christina suddenly put her soft lips and face close to his lips, Eric herself, of her own free will, wished that this very moment should be repeated over and over again. He might have to conquer Christine again and again, but for the warmth of her body under his awkward hands, for the sake of his smiling eyes, he would do it forever.
In the evening they froze and got tired.
- We have to go back," Christina said. - Raoul is probably already worried. The show is about to start, and I have to change my clothes..." "Eric," she suddenly jumped up, "and you're not going to the premiere?
Eric shook his head.
- I prefer to sit in the warmth and silence.
- In the basement? - Kristina was even more surprised.
- Why not?" said Eric as carelessly as possible. - I have a house next to the Opera House. The maid must have set the fireplace on fire and made hot wine with spices.
- A..." - thinking, Kristina held out. - I wouldn't give up the hot wine.
And then I was embarrassed.
- We can sit there for a while... and then you'll go get ready for the show. - Eric tried not to let his voice shiver - though it was up to Christine's answer whether he had calculated correctly or not and whether he had forgotten something important.
He's not as disgusting to Christine as he was this morning. And - if the sky does remember the unluckiest of mortals - this evening Christine will belong to Eric again.
- Yes... but just a little bit," said Christine.
It was no accident that Eric tried to choose his home. A little bit, but clean - thanks to the women, - with purple, grey charcoal in the fireplace, who greedily grasped the logs tossed up the bright flames. With a modest dinner on the table, with hot wine in a towel wrapped cauldron and frozen ice cream outside the window.
- What a wonderful house! - Kristina admired it.
- Now, yes," said Eric, helping her to remove her fur cape.
He pulled Christine in to kiss him.
- Please don't ruin such a wonderful evening. - Christina dodged his lips, slipped out of her arms and sat right on the carpet in front of the fireplace, pulling out her frozen hands.
- Don't," Eric readily agreed and came down next to him.
Christina moved away:
- I'd better go.
She still moved away, preparing to get up.
- I have ice cream..." Eric panicked, feeling he was missing it.
- Let's meet tomorrow," Christina's words were printed to the floor.
- No, today! - he exclaimed unwittingly.
Christina shuddered and jumped on her feet.
- I can't stay.
- Please stay with me. Just a little bit more. - Eric was ready to beg on her knees.
Actually, he did.
- Don't ruin the evening," Kristina said again.
- But I love you! - forgetting the role, the need to control every gesture, Eric exclaimed.
- Love you? - Cristina looked at him with distrust. - You don't even know me.
- I know...
Cristina's face was all painted.
- Of course, how could I forget? - she spoke bitterly. - You are my Angel, to whom I trusted the secrets.
- But... - Eric's had a nasty sucking under his spoon. - What about the hats? You never told me about them.
- You set it up. - Christina's eyes flashed with understanding. - Who did you ask? Meg? Madame Giry? How could I not have guessed at once! I believed you wanted to change, and you were still trying to fool me with tricks.
- How could I set up that we were going to feed the ducks? - Eric mumbled in despair.
Everything he'd worked so hard to build was crumbling before his eyes.
- You're crazy," Christine said angrily. - You say you love me, but you only love yourself. I'm a trophy for you!
- I hate myself! - Eric couldn't help it.
A slap in the face stunned him.
- That's for like you!
Christina turned around in heels and ran out of the room. Holding her palm to her burning cheek, Eric listened to her footsteps knocking down the stairs. And then slammed the door.
Eric knelt down on his face.
to be continued ...