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Erik and Christine had been married a for almost two months. As Christine had suspected, things were not easy. She was easily frustrated with Erik and his moods, and he, in turn, had no idea how to handle a wife. They had hardly touched one another in the first month of marriage, but somehow, they were getting along. And while they had not moved above ground, Erik had agreed to take his wife for walks in the less crowded areas of Paris.

Early one evening, they were seated quietly by the fire. Christine was trying to read a book while Erik simply watched her.

His mask was still on.

For the past month, Christine had struggled to keep Erik’s mask off when they were at home. She understood his need to keep it on when running errands around Paris, but she could not grasp his desire to keep it on in front of her, alone in his house underground. After a month of marriage, she found his masked face more frightening than his actual countenance, despite the fear and disgust it caused her when she first laid eyes upon it. While Erik’s face was horrible, she had come to prefer it to his mask’s unmoving, stagnate features.

Finally, she set her book down upon the little table by her chair. A conversation they frequently had began. “Erik,” she said gently. “Would you please take off your mask?”

“My dear, I do not wish to subject you to th...” Erik started.

“You are not subjecting me to anything unwanted,” she interrupted. “We have gone over this. I don’t mind your face. I, in fact, prefer your face to your masks.”

“Why?” he asked incredulously. This was something he rarely asked. Christine took a minute before answering honestly.

“Because when you are unmasked, I can see what you’re thinking. I like to see your expressions I suppose.”

“You would want to see the expression of a corpse?” Erik asked, a hint of bitterness seeping into his voice.

“You are not a corpse,” Christine replied firmly. “You are a man, and when you have the mask on, it is like I am in the company of an automaton. I much prefer your company to that of an automaton.” Christine lifted her eyes to Erik’s covered face, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Please take it off?” she asked again, a pleading look in her eyes.

Erik was silent for a few moments. Finally, he gave one of his typical sighs, and said quietly, “As you wish, my love.” He slowly untied his mask and lowered it from his face. His eyes had suddenly become cold. Christine was prepared for what came next.

“Better, my dear?” he said, sneering. “Or are you quite ready to run to your Viscount and tell him the horror you feel for me?” he spat.

A little over a month ago, Christine would have shrunk back from his tone and words. But now, she was not so easily affected. She stared at her husband calmly and said, “Yes, much better. And please, do not mention Raoul. He is not my husband, and I am no longer in contact with him. You are my husband, Erik.”

Erik turned his face from her in a vain attempted to hide himself. “I don’t understand. I don’t think I ever will,” he said.

Christine stared at her husband a moment, an idea forming in her head. It disgusted her a little, but also excited her. It was a new endeavor. She hoped it would gain a little more of his trust. But she knew it might also upset him. "Maybe it is worth the risk," she thought. She got up from her chair, and walked over to Erik, who was sitting on the couch. She sat down beside him.

“Erik, please look at me.”

Her husband stiffly turned towards her, a nondescript expression on his face. Erik noticed that his little wife had not sat this close to him in a long time. Not since the night she agreed to marry him. It made him happy to see her so near him again, but also worried him a little. He wondered what she was thinking. “Yes?” he asked.

Christine scooted a little closer to him, and tucked her feet under her. She looked into his eyes seriously. “Please, tell me to stop if this is too much.”

She then reached both her hands up and touched his face.

Erik inhaled sharply and pulled away from her touch.

“I-I’m sorry. Was that too forward of me? I just thought...” Christine stuttered, fearing he was angry.

Erik stared at her, the skin above his eyes raised. “Why would you do that? It-it was lovely, my dear, but I...no one has ever touched me willingly before...with benevolent intentions, at least,” he finished quietly.

Christine looked down at her hands. “Well, that night, when I agreed to marry you, I did. I touched you, and didn’t hurt you. I-I kissed you. I know I haven’t touched you in a long time, and I’m sorry. That’s not how a wife should act. It’s just been...” she said, faltering.

“Yes...yes I understand, why you have not...touched me since then. But that still does not answer my question. Why would you want to touch my face? Now, after all this time?”

“B-because. We haven’t touched each other at all hardly since our marriage, and you are so uncomfortable around me without your mask, and I felt terrible for not being around you, and...and...”

“And?” Erik prompted.

“I suppose am curious.” Christine said, looking ashamed. "There’s something else...but what?" she thought before continuing. “I want to know what your face feels like. I don’t mean to offend you, Erik, but...I don’t know. I remember, when I was a child, I would pat my fathers face.” She laughed softly. “I think I did it out of childish playfulness. Of course, I don’t mean to compare my husband to my father at all! Oh, goodness, what am I saying...”

To Christine’s great surprise, Erik laughed. It was a beautiful sound, like that of a gentle stream. She had never heard Erik truly laugh. She had only heard him laugh when he was in a rage. That laugh was a completely different sound from the one her husband now uttered. “Why are you laughing?” she asked confusedly.

“I apologize my dear, it’s just so bewildering. People have often been curious about my face, but you, an angel, having such innocent interest in my disgusting features? It’s very amusing in a strange way.” he said, his voice a mixture of mirth and sadness.

“Are you angry at me?” Christine asked.

“No, of course not, my angel. I was just...very surprised,” he replied, his voice growing quiet.

The couple sat next to each other, an awkward silence covering them.

“Ah, Erik?”

“Yes, Christine?”

“Do...do you mind if I try that again? Would you mind terribly?”

Erik turned his ugly face towards her. “Are you sure? You...you will not be frightened? You will not hurt me, will you?”

Christine looked up at her husband, a pitying look upon her face. “Of course not. I promise, I won’t hurt you.”

Erik stared at her for a minute before silently nodding.

Slowly, so as not to startle her husband, Christine reached her hands up to Erik’s face. As her fingertips landed lightly upon his face, she heard him gasp sharply again. “Are you alright?” she asked worriedly. Erik nodded quickly, but mutely. She continued her exploration of his face, her hands wandering down to the most hollow part of Erik’s face, the space right under his cheekbones. She noticed that the skin there felt very torn, almost like tendons. She then saw little scars all across his face, ranging from just above where his eyebrows should have been, to just where his cheeks started to hollow out. They didn’t seem very old, she noticed. Suddenly, an unpleasant memory stirred.

"The unmasking..." she thought.

Her finger lingered on one of the scars. Tears welled in her eyes. “Erik, are these from when I took off your mask, all those months ago?”

Erik flinched. “Yes...” His shoulders began to shake. The broken memory of that incident had haunted Erik ever since it’s occurrence. He did not even remember taking Christine’s hands and clawing his own face with them. He only remembered the aftermath of his actions.

Something wet flowed across Christine’s hands. “Erik, are you crying?” she asked.

Erik tried to jerk back from Christine’s touch, but her hands lingered on his face. Resigned, he stayed put. “No, of course not,” he replied.

“You can be a terrible liar, you know that?” Christine said with a watery smile. She paused. “Should we continue?”

Taking a shaky breath, Erik said, “Yes, you can proceed,” closing his eyes.

Christine laughed quietly. “How serious you are,” she said fondly. For a moment, her thumb stroked Erik’s right cheekbone before continuing up to his forehead. Here, his skin was very smooth, and very pale. She leaned over and ran her hand over over Erik’s temple, examining each side of his face. Erik stayed fairly calm under Christine’s hands.

That is, until Christine’s fingers gently touched his eyelids, hidden deep in his skull.

He let out a small cry of shock and fear. Christine quickly replaced her hand to either side of her face. “I’m sorry! I shouldn't have done that without warning.”

Erik choked out, “I remember. I remember that on the roof of the opera house, when you were with...Raoul...you said how my sunken eyes horrified you, because you cannot see them, except in the dark. You said I looked like a living death’s head. I know I look like that. And I know what you think of my face. So how can you touch my eyes...”

“You know what I thought of your face, not what I think of it now. It doesn’t frighten me anymore, Erik.” she took a breath before continuing. “I am sorry for what I said. Please, forgive my words,” Christine whispered.

“I forgive you. I will always forgive you.”

Christine bowed her head briefly, and then she looked up at Erik and asked, “May I?” Erik nodded, and closed his eyes again. She moved her hands up to his eyes once again, and carefully touched his closed eyelids with her index fingers. She marveled at how deeply set his eyes were. She then held his head in her hands and ran her thumbs over the place where Erik’s eyebrows would have been. Knowing that Erik was easily startled by now, she said to Erik, “Open your eyes.” he did. Tears had pooled there once again. She took one hand away and brushed the bridge of her nose, her eyes asking permission.

Erik’s eyes widened. “Wait, are you...”

“Yes,” Christine replied. “If you won’t, I understand. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I...I don’t understand. It is disgusting. How could you possibly...”

“Because I care. I care very much, and I want to show you that I don’t find you disgusting, and I am not frightened.”

Erik’s face switched back and forth between horror, fear, astonishment, and hope. Finally, he said, “If you will not regret it.”

“I won’t. I will never regret.” she said firmly.

He nodded. Christine reached out one more time, and placed her fingers upon the bridge of where Erik’s nose would have been. She gently caressed it, and ran her fingers across the side of his lacking nose. Then, one last time, she held the side of Erik’s face in one hand. He hesitantly leaned into her hold. Both stayed that way for a few moments before Christine finally put her hand down. They sat in silence. Christine could feel the tension and fear radiating off of Erik’s skeletal figure. She could hardly tell if he was breathing.

“Erik, are you alright?” Christine asked hesitantly.

Erik took a deep, shuddering breath. “Yes. Yes, I believe I am. That was...the most beautiful thing you could have done for me, Christine. I cannot fathom why you would do that for me, but I am so inexplicably happy that you did.”

Christine stared at Erik, a look of shock covering her face. “Christine? My love, what is wrong?” Erik asked.

Christine gasped. “My love...” she murmured. “Erik, I...”

“What? Do I need to get anything for you? Anything? Do you want me to leave?”

“No! No. Don’t leave. I...I just think I realized something very important,” she replied, eyes wide.

"I know the missing reason I touched his face. It is more than curiosity, it is more than simply caring...Oh God..." she thought.

“Erik, you said you couldn’t imagine why I would want to be near you, to touch you.” She paused. “I think I understand, now. But I am afraid to tell you,” a frightened look crossing her face.

Erik stared at his wife, realization dawning. “No. You cannot mean it Christine. Tell Erik! Tell Erik what you have realized, or he will burst!”

Christine looked at Erik, tears pooling in her eyes. “I love you, Erik.” Erik cried out, and reached for his wife.

“Oh, my God...”

“But Erik, I don’t know how much I love you. You...you don’t deserve what I can offer right now...”

“No! No, Christine, you don’t understand. Even if it is only a little, someone loves me! You love me. This is something I never though possible. I have been hated by everyone my whole life. You, sweet, innocent girl, cannot possibly understand. And now, Erik’s wife says she loves him just a little, and she touched my wretched face and was not afraid! I am happy. I am content,” Erik said, closing his eyes.

For the first time, Christine was crying more than Erik. Erik bravely gathered his wife into his arms. He had regained control, and said in a gentle, commanding tone, “Be calm. It’s alright, my angel. Please, don’t cry. Are you afraid of Erik?”

Christine sniffed. “No, just...overwhelmed. Thank you, Erik.”

“For what? What have I ever done for you?”

“You appeared in my life.” she said simply.

“Then I should thank you as well. For the same.”

“Erik?”

“Yes, Christine?” Erik said.

“This has been...quite a night. Could you please sing to me?”

“Of course, love. Of course.”

Description
Erik and Christine had been married a for almost two months. As Christine had suspected, things were not easy. She was easily frustrated with Erik and his moods, and he, in turn, had no idea how to handle a wife. They had hardly touched one another in the first month of marriage, but somehow, they were getting along. And while they had not moved above ground, Erik had agreed to take his wife for walks in the less crowded areas of Paris.

Early one evening, they were seated quietly by the fire. Christine was trying to read a book while Erik simply watched her.

His mask was still on.

For the past month, Christine had struggled to keep Erik’s mask off when they were at home. She understood his need to keep it on when running errands around Paris, but she could not grasp his desire to keep it on in front of her, alone in his house underground. After a month of marriage, she found his masked face more frightening than his actual countenance, despite the fear and disgust it caused her when she first laid eyes upon it. While Erik’s face was horrible, she had come to prefer it to his mask’s unmoving, stagnate features.

Finally, she set her book down upon the little table by her chair. A conversation they frequently had began. “Erik,” she said gently. “Would you please take off your mask?”

“My dear, I do not wish to subject you to th...” Erik started.

“You are not subjecting me to anything unwanted,” she interrupted. “We have gone over this. I don’t mind your face. I, in fact, prefer your face to your masks.”

“Why?” he asked incredulously. This was something he rarely asked. Christine took a minute before answering honestly.

“Because when you are unmasked, I can see what you’re thinking. I like to see your expressions I suppose.”

“You would want to see the expression of a corpse?” Erik asked, a hint of bitterness seeping into his voice.

“You are not a corpse,” Christine replied firmly. “You are a man, and when you have the mask on, it is like I am in the company of an automaton. I much prefer your company to that of an automaton.” Christine lifted her eyes to Erik’s covered face, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Please take it off?” she asked again, a pleading look in her eyes.

Erik was silent for a few moments. Finally, he gave one of his typical sighs, and said quietly, “As you wish, my love.” He slowly untied his mask and lowered it from his face. His eyes had suddenly become cold. Christine was prepared for what came next.

“Better, my dear?” he said, sneering. “Or are you quite ready to run to your Viscount and tell him the horror you feel for me?” he spat.

A little over a month ago, Christine would have shrunk back from his tone and words. But now, she was not so easily affected. She stared at her husband calmly and said, “Yes, much better. And please, do not mention Raoul. He is not my husband, and I am no longer in contact with him. You are my husband, Erik.”

Erik turned his face from her in a vain attempted to hide himself. “I don’t understand. I don’t think I ever will,” he said.

Christine stared at her husband a moment, an idea forming in her head. It disgusted her a little, but also excited her. It was a new endeavor. She hoped it would gain a little more of his trust. But she knew it might also upset him. "Maybe it is worth the risk," she thought. She got up from her chair, and walked over to Erik, who was sitting on the couch. She sat down beside him.

“Erik, please look at me.”

Her husband stiffly turned towards her, a nondescript expression on his face. Erik noticed that his little wife had not sat this close to him in a long time. Not since the night she agreed to marry him. It made him happy to see her so near him again, but also worried him a little. He wondered what she was thinking. “Yes?” he asked.

Christine scooted a little closer to him, and tucked her feet under her. She looked into his eyes seriously. “Please, tell me to stop if this is too much.”

She then reached both her hands up and touched his face.

Erik inhaled sharply and pulled away from her touch.

“I-I’m sorry. Was that too forward of me? I just thought...” Christine stuttered, fearing he was angry.

Erik stared at her, the skin above his eyes raised. “Why would you do that? It-it was lovely, my dear, but I...no one has ever touched me willingly before...with benevolent intentions, at least,” he finished quietly.

Christine looked down at her hands. “Well, that night, when I agreed to marry you, I did. I touched you, and didn’t hurt you. I-I kissed you. I know I haven’t touched you in a long time, and I’m sorry. That’s not how a wife should act. It’s just been...” she said, faltering.

“Yes...yes I understand, why you have not...touched me since then. But that still does not answer my question. Why would you want to touch my face? Now, after all this time?”

“B-because. We haven’t touched each other at all hardly since our marriage, and you are so uncomfortable around me without your mask, and I felt terrible for not being around you, and...and...”

“And?” Erik prompted.

“I suppose am curious.” Christine said, looking ashamed. "There’s something else...but what?" she thought before continuing. “I want to know what your face feels like. I don’t mean to offend you, Erik, but...I don’t know. I remember, when I was a child, I would pat my fathers face.” She laughed softly. “I think I did it out of childish playfulness. Of course, I don’t mean to compare my husband to my father at all! Oh, goodness, what am I saying...”

To Christine’s great surprise, Erik laughed. It was a beautiful sound, like that of a gentle stream. She had never heard Erik truly laugh. She had only heard him laugh when he was in a rage. That laugh was a completely different sound from the one her husband now uttered. “Why are you laughing?” she asked confusedly.

“I apologize my dear, it’s just so bewildering. People have often been curious about my face, but you, an angel, having such innocent interest in my disgusting features? It’s very amusing in a strange way.” he said, his voice a mixture of mirth and sadness.

“Are you angry at me?” Christine asked.

“No, of course not, my angel. I was just...very surprised,” he replied, his voice growing quiet.

The couple sat next to each other, an awkward silence covering them.

“Ah, Erik?”

“Yes, Christine?”

“Do...do you mind if I try that again? Would you mind terribly?”

Erik turned his ugly face towards her. “Are you sure? You...you will not be frightened? You will not hurt me, will you?”

Christine looked up at her husband, a pitying look upon her face. “Of course not. I promise, I won’t hurt you.”

Erik stared at her for a minute before silently nodding.

Slowly, so as not to startle her husband, Christine reached her hands up to Erik’s face. As her fingertips landed lightly upon his face, she heard him gasp sharply again. “Are you alright?” she asked worriedly. Erik nodded quickly, but mutely. She continued her exploration of his face, her hands wandering down to the most hollow part of Erik’s face, the space right under his cheekbones. She noticed that the skin there felt very torn, almost like tendons. She then saw little scars all across his face, ranging from just above where his eyebrows should have been, to just where his cheeks started to hollow out. They didn’t seem very old, she noticed. Suddenly, an unpleasant memory stirred.

"The unmasking..." she thought.

Her finger lingered on one of the scars. Tears welled in her eyes. “Erik, are these from when I took off your mask, all those months ago?”

Erik flinched. “Yes...” His shoulders began to shake. The broken memory of that incident had haunted Erik ever since it’s occurrence. He did not even remember taking Christine’s hands and clawing his own face with them. He only remembered the aftermath of his actions.

Something wet flowed across Christine’s hands. “Erik, are you crying?” she asked.

Erik tried to jerk back from Christine’s touch, but her hands lingered on his face. Resigned, he stayed put. “No, of course not,” he replied.

“You can be a terrible liar, you know that?” Christine said with a watery smile. She paused. “Should we continue?”

Taking a shaky breath, Erik said, “Yes, you can proceed,” closing his eyes.

Christine laughed quietly. “How serious you are,” she said fondly. For a moment, her thumb stroked Erik’s right cheekbone before continuing up to his forehead. Here, his skin was very smooth, and very pale. She leaned over and ran her hand over over Erik’s temple, examining each side of his face. Erik stayed fairly calm under Christine’s hands.

That is, until Christine’s fingers gently touched his eyelids, hidden deep in his skull.

He let out a small cry of shock and fear. Christine quickly replaced her hand to either side of her face. “I’m sorry! I shouldn't have done that without warning.”

Erik choked out, “I remember. I remember that on the roof of the opera house, when you were with...Raoul...you said how my sunken eyes horrified you, because you cannot see them, except in the dark. You said I looked like a living death’s head. I know I look like that. And I know what you think of my face. So how can you touch my eyes...”

“You know what I thought of your face, not what I think of it now. It doesn’t frighten me anymore, Erik.” she took a breath before continuing. “I am sorry for what I said. Please, forgive my words,” Christine whispered.

“I forgive you. I will always forgive you.”

Christine bowed her head briefly, and then she looked up at Erik and asked, “May I?” Erik nodded, and closed his eyes again. She moved her hands up to his eyes once again, and carefully touched his closed eyelids with her index fingers. She marveled at how deeply set his eyes were. She then held his head in her hands and ran her thumbs over the place where Erik’s eyebrows would have been. Knowing that Erik was easily startled by now, she said to Erik, “Open your eyes.” he did. Tears had pooled there once again. She took one hand away and brushed the bridge of her nose, her eyes asking permission.

Erik’s eyes widened. “Wait, are you...”

“Yes,” Christine replied. “If you won’t, I understand. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I...I don’t understand. It is disgusting. How could you possibly...”

“Because I care. I care very much, and I want to show you that I don’t find you disgusting, and I am not frightened.”

Erik’s face switched back and forth between horror, fear, astonishment, and hope. Finally, he said, “If you will not regret it.”

“I won’t. I will never regret.” she said firmly.

He nodded. Christine reached out one more time, and placed her fingers upon the bridge of where Erik’s nose would have been. She gently caressed it, and ran her fingers across the side of his lacking nose. Then, one last time, she held the side of Erik’s face in one hand. He hesitantly leaned into her hold. Both stayed that way for a few moments before Christine finally put her hand down. They sat in silence. Christine could feel the tension and fear radiating off of Erik’s skeletal figure. She could hardly tell if he was breathing.

“Erik, are you alright?” Christine asked hesitantly.

Erik took a deep, shuddering breath. “Yes. Yes, I believe I am. That was...the most beautiful thing you could have done for me, Christine. I cannot fathom why you would do that for me, but I am so inexplicably happy that you did.”

Christine stared at Erik, a look of shock covering her face. “Christine? My love, what is wrong?” Erik asked.

Christine gasped. “My love...” she murmured. “Erik, I...”

“What? Do I need to get anything for you? Anything? Do you want me to leave?”

“No! No. Don’t leave. I...I just think I realized something very important,” she replied, eyes wide.

"I know the missing reason I touched his face. It is more than curiosity, it is more than simply caring...Oh God..." she thought.

“Erik, you said you couldn’t imagine why I would want to be near you, to touch you.” She paused. “I think I understand, now. But I am afraid to tell you,” a frightened look crossing her face.

Erik stared at his wife, realization dawning. “No. You cannot mean it Christine. Tell Erik! Tell Erik what you have realized, or he will burst!”

Christine looked at Erik, tears pooling in her eyes. “I love you, Erik.” Erik cried out, and reached for his wife.

“Oh, my God...”

“But Erik, I don’t know how much I love you. You...you don’t deserve what I can offer right now...”

“No! No, Christine, you don’t understand. Even if it is only a little, someone loves me! You love me. This is something I never though possible. I have been hated by everyone my whole life. You, sweet, innocent girl, cannot possibly understand. And now, Erik’s wife says she loves him just a little, and she touched my wretched face and was not afraid! I am happy. I am content,” Erik said, closing his eyes.

For the first time, Christine was crying more than Erik. Erik bravely gathered his wife into his arms. He had regained control, and said in a gentle, commanding tone, “Be calm. It’s alright, my angel. Please, don’t cry. Are you afraid of Erik?”

Christine sniffed. “No, just...overwhelmed. Thank you, Erik.”

“For what? What have I ever done for you?”

“You appeared in my life.” she said simply.

“Then I should thank you as well. For the same.”

“Erik?”

“Yes, Christine?” Erik said.

“This has been...quite a night. Could you please sing to me?”

“Of course, love. Of course.”