Today's prompt: helplessness/blindness/Music of the Night

I have another Cherik one shot for you guys today! This one is basically a retelling of the whole dreamery scene, but with some added details and dialogue, as well as an alternate ending! I really hope you guys will enjoy it!

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"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" Erik asked as he tied the ribbons of his mask behind his head, securing it in place. "I like that room. Good cozy bed, pleasant water view. Well! What should we do today, hm? I have an idea. How about a picnic?"

"A picnic?" Christine asked, laughing quietly at his excitement.

"Yes, down through the woods. There's a quiet little spot I know; we won't be interrupted there, and while we stroll, I can show you where I live, my domain," Erik replied, smiling as he crossed the room. He approached a long table full of different odds and ends and took a boater hat off of a stand. "Hat, do you think? Formal touch? Hm?"

Christine set the candelabra she'd been holding down on a little table. Turning to glance at him, she watched as he set the hat on his head, and she smiled at him.

"Yes, I think so too," he said before she could reply, and he leaned over to grab something that had been leaning against the table. "And, of course, a walking cane. And to complete our little outing"—he tapped a picnic basket with the cane before he picked it up—"voila." Walking over to her, he smiled and offered an arm. "Shall we go?"

"Yes, I'm ready," Christine said with a nod, returning his smile. "This is all very exciting, I must admit."

"It's exciting for me as well," Erik replied, his tone full of what only could be described as complete and utter affection. "Now, close your eyes."

"Alright, they're closed." Christine laughed quietly and walked alongside him, keeping a firm hold on his arm so as not to trip over anything. She couldn't help but smile as he led her across the room. She noticed him pause then as if waiting for something to open before he brought her forward once more. She felt the ground beneath her feet change from hard stone to something softer—dirt, she guessed.

"Alright, you can look now," Erik said, glancing down at her expectantly.

Christine opened her eyes then, her smile immediately widening as soon as she saw the forrest ahead of them. For a moment, she almost forgot they were underground.

"Do you like these woods of mine?" Erik asked. His fingers moved down her arm gently before he encompassed her hand in his own to guide her forward.

"Yes, very much," replied Christine with a smile.

"They stretch on almost forever. Come, there's a path over here. One can get quite hopelessly lost in these woods if one does not know the path," Erik remarked. He smirked slightly then and tilted his head toward her before he added: "Or have a guide who does." Watching her smile at him, he felt his heart beat a little faster and tried to clear his throat in an attempt to hide any awkwardness. "Once upon a time, before I planted all this, there were only endless, dreary vaults in this land. Gloomy, barren corridors, a wilderness of stone. No light at all, no love; no love and kindness."

"Well, I think it's lovely that you chose to make something beautiful out of it," Christine said softly, smiling as she spoke.

"Thank you, my Christine," Erik replied, pausing in his treads to look at her. "Are you warm enough?"

"Yes, I am."

Erik nodded, turning back to the path ahead of them before he hushed her. "The morning birds," he said quietly as they took a few more paces forward. "Pheasant too, I hear. And deer. Squirrels, foxes, rabbits, all playing most harmoniously, like this magic music." Smiling, he glanced over his shoulder at her. "You are magic too, I think."

Christine laughed quietly, glancing down at her feet as she dug her right heel into the dirt of the path. "No, no, I don't think that."

"Oh, yes, you are," Erik replied almost immediately, the fondest of smiles on his face. "I know. Magic is my friend. Magic cannot hide from me. You belong here...Do you like this music?"

Christine took a moment to listen, letting her ear hone in on the soft orchestra music playing in the background. She couldn't tell if he was somehow causing it to play or if it was coming from the Opera above, but one thing was certain; it was very pleasing, and she wouldn't have been at all shocked if it were something he'd composed himself. "Yes, yes, very much," she finally replied, flashing him a lovely smile in return.

"Do you know why?" he asked. When she only shrugged in reply, he said: "Because it helps give shape to our dreams. In fact, I call this domain my dreamery. Do you find that apt?"

"Yes," Christine spoke after a moment's thought.

"Apt to what?"

"Well, apt...to what you wish," Christine said with a smile.

Erik nodded, his eyes gazing longingly into her own."Exactly so," he replied as he stopped in his tracks and set the picnic basket down in the grass. "We'll set our picnic here."

"Alright." Christine waited as he spread a green blanket over the ground before she sat down beside him. She couldn't help but smile at how happy he seemed to be here with her, to bring her here and show her everything. It was all very sweet and flattering.

"Of all the places in my realm, this is the most enchanted spot, I think," Erik said softly, his eyes flicking over to her briefly as he opened the picnic basket. "And what have we here?" He unwrapped a sandwich, presenting it to her. "Voila."

She took it from him and tore off a piece, popping it into her mouth. All the while, her eyes never left him.

"Would you sing for me?" Erik asked as he reached back into the basket.

"If you wish," Christine replied, giving him another smile before she took another piece off of her sandwich and ate it.

"Oh, I do. Very much." Erik waited for her to begin, but when he noticed her gazing at him a moment later, he frowned. "I'm sorry, is there something wrong?"

Christine hesitated briefly, trying her best to think of a way to phrase the question she wanted to ask. "If I sing for you, will you grant me a favor?" she eventually asked in a gentle tone. When he declined this, she frowned slightly. "Why not?"

"Because you must sing for love and joy, not for gain. I will grant you a favor regardless of what you do," Erik replied, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "Tell me what it is you wish."

"Let me see your face," requested Christine.

Erik, suddenly feeling anxiety churn in his stomach, glanced at her for a few long moments before he took a deep breath. "You have asked, I'm afraid, the only thing in my power that I cannot grant," he replied, a slightly firmer edge to his tone as he spoke. "Please don't ask it again."

Reaching out, Christine gently grasped his hand, drawing him a bit nearer to her. "I have seen your eyes, and I know your heart. Why not let me know your face as well?" she asked, her tone every bit as gentle as if she were soothing a small child.

"Because...because I have no face, only the semblance of a face, and...no one should ever have to look at it," he replied gravely.

"Oh, but I could look at it. I could!" Christine insisted earnestly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

Erik shook his head, closing his eyes. "No, I ask you, please, to stop," he replied, his tone harsher than he'd intended.

Christine let a few moments of silence pass between them. As she watched the tension fade from his shoulders, she searched her brain for anything she could say to convey to him that she could bear his face, no matter how horrible he claimed it to be. She wanted to be everything to him that no one else could be, but she knew she could not accomplish that without him first trusting her enough to show what he truly was.

When he seemed slightly more relaxed, she spoke again, her tone still soft but a bit firmer now: "Only if you say you do not love me will I stop. Maestro, please, you have given me so much." He tried to insist that she did know what she was asking, but she only replied, now clasping both of his hands tightly in her own, "Yes, I do. If you love me, please let me love you too."

Erik looked down at their hands, feeling conflicted. His eyes were beginning to sting with unshed tears.

"No, don't do that. I know your face can be looked at by someone who loves you. Please let me show you it's true," Christine said with a quiet sigh, her left hand coming to rest upon one of his masked cheeks. "I ask nothing that has not already been done. Your mother saw your face and smiled; if love let her gaze at you and smile, could it not do the same for me?"

Erik stared back at her, reasoning on this point for a long time. She was correct, he supposed. If his mother had found something pleasurable in his face, what was to say Christine couldn't do the same? On the other hand, though, would he be able to bear it if she couldn't?

When he searched her eyes, he found nothing but love in them, and so he eventually—with much hesitation—reached up to remove his mask. All the while, he tried to swallow down the bile in his throat, the feeling of impending doom that always accompanied thoughts of removing his mask. Hands shaking, he finally lowered the face covering.

Christine immediately smiled as he did so and moved to cup his face in her hands. She felt her heart twist slightly when he flinched a bit, but she didn't let it stop her from letting her hands gently caress his face.

Every muscle in Erik's body was tense as she did so, but he eventually found himself give way to emotions, and a few tears spilt down his cheeks. How could he have been so blind to how she felt before? While it was true that he had never wanted to believe himself capable of being loved, he now began to consider himself foolish for not seeing the signs until now. But even being aware of her true feelings, he couldn't bring himself to kiss her back, afraid that if he moved in the slightest, he might wake up and realize it had all been a dream.

After a moment, Christine separated her lips from his, and in the same action, she pulled him to her in a tight hug.

Her poor Erik. Never had he been so vulnerable, so helpless in her presence. It spoke volumes about just how not used to this sort of affection he was. This made her all the more determined to show him the love that he deserved.

"Thank you, my Christine," Erik eventually whispered, his voice breaking as he spoke her name. "Thank you."