Erik looked down at Clara for a long few moments, utterly amazed that she would want to give up all she had in order to go and be with him. She had no idea how much she had. the things she would miss. Simple things like her synthesizer, and her stereo, with all of her cherished Broadway CD's. Her family and friends. He hadn't explained to her that he came from his world. in the late 1880's. in order to see her. Until now, he hadn't thought it necessary.
Whenever he came to see her, he simply knew how her stereo operated. The information he needed to get by in Clara's modern time seemed to come naturally to him. And he knew that such things could be addictive. What would she say when all of a sudden she couldn't listen to the voices of her beloved stars? Would she still be happy when there were no more Anthony Hopkins roles to watch? Taking in a deep breath, he let it out in a long, loud sigh.
"Clara. it does matter." He finally whispered. "Think of all the things you will lose. Material things just as much as sentimental things. I would never dream of taking you away from all these things."
"I would give it all up for you, Erik." She insisted passionately, her hands coming up to take his wrists. He almost pulled his hands back from her shoulders, before he realized her movement was not an action of objection to his touch. He looked into her deep brown eyes quietly, and she smiled at him weakly, trying to show him how sincere she was. "Please, Erik? Please. you're all I need." She hesitated, then really smiled. "And perhaps my sheet music."
"Sheet music." Erik thought about that. He didn't know if he could even bring her back with him. How would he be able to bring her sheet music back with them? Oh, it was easy enough to bring little things back with him. He'd stolen a picture out of her photo album the night before, and brought it back to Paris with him. so he could look at her while they were separated. Yet another person, and something so large? Maybe he just had to wish to bring them back with him. "Show me the sheet music."
Clara took his hand, bringing the palm of it to her mouth to kiss him again, as she had earlier. Again, Erik gasped at the sensations. Then, she turned and led him back through the field that was her side yard, and into the house. They silently as possible made their way up an old staircase to the second floor of her small farmhouse, and to the right into a white room that must have had several functions. To the left of the small room were Barbie toys of every description, and dolls, and tea sets. Simply a great deal of toys cluttered up against the wall. In the center of the bed was a queen sized air mattress. And to the right of the room was a synthesizer, surrounded by a few small piles of copied sheet music. and a large wooden box that was loaded with books and more copies. Erik was certain it would weigh at least fifty pounds. Not that lifting fifty pounds would be a hardship on him.
"These are my songs." She said in a low, reverent voice, kneeling down to pick up a copied song from 'The Secret Garden'. She hummed softly, and Erik sat on the little piano stool to listen.
"Come to my garden. nestled in the hill. there I'll keep you safe beside me."
She stopped after only that line, and quickly picked up the haphazard piles of sheet music to add them to the box Erik had noticed before. He thought to himself with a smile that she'd just added another five pounds to the cargo. Slowly reaching out, he put a hand on the back of her shoulder, and her eyes lifted to his sharply. After a moment, she began to smile, and slowly stood up from the dark red floor. Something told him that the color was 'ruby slipper'. By chance, the very color her father had picked out for the upstairs only the summer before had a link to one of her favorite stories of all time.
Her hand slipped into his, and Erik stood as she seemed to want him to do that. On either side of the room, the upper three-quarters of the walls were angled inwards towards the foot-and-a-half wide ceiling, making him nearly hit his head on the wall. Then, being as tall as he was, his fedora also threatened to hit the ceiling fan. Yet he avoided any disasters without even thinking about what he was doing.
"Erik."
The tone of Clara's voice had changed, he realized. It was softer. not in volume, for they'd been whispering all evening. Yet it seemed to have gone from the tone of silk, to that of a down blanket. Curiously, he bent his face down closer to hers, showing her that she had all of his attention. But she didn't speak again. Instead, she reached up to touch his masked cheek.
"Don't ---"
"You don't trust me?" She whispered, seeming to be hurt. Erik immediately regretted his instinctive reaction. Sighing, he took her hand, and pressed it to his cheek. It mad her smile again, and he knew that she understood. knew that he was forgiven for not trusting her. Of course he trusted her. It was just hard to break old habits. "Erik. if I turn off the lights. will you take your mask off?"
"Of course I will, Cherie." He smiled. Clara nodded, and then turned, reaching out to flick the light switch. In a moment, they were encompassed in darkness. Erik immediately reached up to remove his fedora and mask, and slipped them into the box containing her sheet music. When he turned around, Clara was right there, barely two inches away from him, and she was reaching up to wrap her arms about his shoulders, which he allowed, before slipping his own arms about her waist to gently cradle her.
"Erik, I really and truly do love you." She breathed. "Please believe me."
"I believe you, Clara." He replied gently. "And I love you too."
She looked up at him, and with his exceptional vision, he saw her eyes in the darkness. He didn't even know if there was a name for the emotion he saw swimming there. Then, hesitantly, he leaned down to brush an affectionate kiss against her lips. It was to be nothing more, but Clara would have none of it. Her arms tightened about his shoulders, and that brought him down closer to her, so that she was able to deepen the kiss.
"Erik. please.?"
For a long moment, he honestly didn't know what she meant. When he did finally understand, he found it very hard to move or breathe. Yet Clara was very insistent - however gentle and loving she was. She seemed desperate. Then he realized that she had been so lonely lately. and having his love so suddenly made her not believe it. She wanted to know that he loved her. She wanted to know how much he loved her. And, more than anything else, she wanted him to see and feel her love so that it was undeniable.
--{-@ --{-@ --{-@ - -{-@ - -{-@ - -{-@ - -{-@
It was hours later, and Erik lay on a soft mattress, holding tightly to the sleeping form in his arms. Clara was soft against him, completely loving and trusting. Never had he imagined this possible. That any woman would love him. never mind want to. There were no words for what they'd shared. No words for the precious gift that she had given to him. It made him feel evil. to have taken the innocence away from the young woman that he loved. But she obviously held no regrets. After sharing their love with one another, they'd drifted off to sleep for a while. but now he lay wide awake. He was simply overwhelmed.
"Clara. it's morning." He finally whispered. With a tiny moan, Clara shifted against him, and then finally opened her eyes, finding that her left cheek was pressed - squished - against his chest. His inner side of his left bicep was directly in front of her eyes. She felt the warmth of him with her. and the blankets that covered them. She sighed at first, and closed her eyes, finally smiling.
"Good morning, Erik." She breathed. Then, abruptly, she pushed herself upwards, her hands on either side of his torso to avoid shoving her upper body weight down onto his chest. "Morning???"
Erik laughed, keeping his arms about her waist so that she might not pull away from him entirely. When she stared down at him, he nodded.
"Look about you, Cherie." He urged her gently.
When she did, her eyes doubled in size. She pulled back away from him, and looked about the room slowly. Her box of sheet music was to the left of the bed, exactly where it had been in position when she'd first kissed him in the guest room. Yet they were not in her house anymore. It was a room she did not recognize. A room with beautiful deep crimson wallpapers, and lavish furniture. There was a settee in comparison to where her synthesizer had been in the old house. A vanity was directly in front of the bed, about five feet away. And to the right of the room there was a cherry-stained cedar wardrobe closet, and beyond that, to it's left, an open doorway/wall panel.
"Oh my . Mon Dieu!" She whispered, falling back down and hugging herself against Erik tightly, closing her eyes. "We're here! Thank God! I'm with you!"
"Mon Dieu?" Erik chuckled. "Why Mon Dieu?"
"I . My God just doesn't seem to express it." She confessed after a confused moment. Erik held her as tightly as he dare, and began to gently press tiny gentle kisses against her hair.
"Welcome home, mon amour." He sighed. "Welcome home."