Erik distractedly flipped a page of the book he held aloft in his hand, blinking several times to refocus and grant some measure of attention to the words on the pages. In an attempt to develop a measure of normalcy in his life, he had adopted the practice of drawing his evenings to a close by reading before the fire. It became a part of his daily routine without the merest suggestion of difficulty. At eleven o'clock, he would select a volume from his extensive collection and assume his place in the high-backed chair in front of the fireplace, read for approximately an hour, and then retire. In this way, he was able to give rest to his constantly overactive mind, and provide Christine with a means of knowing that the hour was late.

Though she had never given voice to her thoughts, Erik knew that his wife was unaccustomed to a life without the sun to indicate the time of day, so practices such as these were his way of communicating the same information. Indeed, he gathered that Christine appreciated his efforts, as she had her own night- time rituals to attend to, and she took his movement toward the book-case as a prompt to begin them. Erik, of course, needed no more than a few moments to prepare for bed, and he could scarcely fathom how or why she made an ordeal of it. Regardless, she did, and he was more than content to allow her the time.

Erik soon discovered, though, that the time he granted her during his reading was quite a bit more than what she required to ready herself for bed. Yes, she was often completely ready to go to bed well before he was ready to put down whatever it was he happened to be reading. Sleep, though, was not always at the forefront of her mind. Suffice to say that once he came to this knowledge, neither was reading at the forefront of his mind. In fact, more often than not, his books ended up carelessly discarded on the rug, having been abandoned in favor of alternative activities, and he would replace them without a trace of regret or apology upon rising the next morning.

On this night, however, Christine had not emerged from their bedchamber in alluring clothing or a sway in her walk or mischievous glint in her eye. No, she entered Erik's presence in a modest dressing gown, a distant air about her as she made her appearance. Never escaping the watchful eye of her husband, she curled up on an end of the settee, her chin resting in her palm as she gazed into the quietly crackling fire.

Momentarily abandoning his reading, Erik lowered his book to regard his wife uninhibited. He marveled at her delicate frame, tucked so securely against the arm of their sofa. He silently pondered the downward tilt of her lips as she frowned so minutely that it might have gone undetected by someone less observant. He traced the line of her jaw down to the column of her neck where he detected the faint signs of a pulse beating just beneath the soft skin.

Erik felt his own pulse accelerate slightly as he drank in her image. He could not stifle the primal sensations that welled up from deep within his being each time he took the time to truly see his spouse. Moreover, though, it was times like these that a deep, warm satisfaction would envelope him much like a thick blanket, for it was times like these that reminded him of one solid, unchanging fact- Christine was his.

Perhaps the possessiveness Erik felt over Christine may have been a bit much, but he hardly cared to think of it that way- it was simply factual. He owned every aspect of Christine- her beauty, her voice, her innocence and so much more- for each of those aspects had been given to him by her to worship, cherish or scorn at his leisure. She too, though, owned him and all that he was- and it was only through her completion of him that he was finally made right. It hardly mattered what the world thought of him when Christine would look upon him without the slightest trace of fear, disgust or even pity. No, when she looked upon him, she clearly communicated her possession of him- he was inarguably hers, and it struck him to the core. They belonged to one another, and it was never disputed.

Erik's eyes raked over Christine's small form appreciatively, but his attraction for her was weighed out by his concern for her wellbeing. She seemed distant, the glazed surface of her eyes doing little more than reflecting the fire's flames as they licked about one another- certainly not allowing him any insight to her turmoil.

Usually at this point, his mind would begin to wander as he tried to guess at what worry was plaguing her mind. He quickly discovered though, that this attempt at solving the problem did little more than make it worse. His mind would leap to the worst conclusions possible, and he often made the mistake of assuming that she was unhappy with him, their relationship, or something of the like. He would then, of course, be caught in an emotional state of his own, and what had once been a slight disturbance in an otherwise peaceful evening turned into a full blown conflict.

Being distraught, Erik would hurl accusations at her, which would at first confuse her, then only upset her more as she desperately denied his claims and tried to defend herself. Her pleas fell on deaf ears, though, for at the time he was of a less sound mind and too caught up in his own self- doubt for even Christine to assuage him. Then, naturally, when her assurances failed to calm him, her own ire was roused and she would take her turn at listing grievances- the predominant of them being that he did not listen to the words coming out of her mouth.

Not eager to incite another argument, Erik did not allow himself to assume what she was thinking of. Closing the book he had long since lost interest in, he rose from his chair and crossed the room to put it back in its place. From the corner of his eye, he saw Christine start slightly at his movement, and felt her gaze upon him. Sure enough, as soon as he turned from the bookcase, he was met with the light emanating from her crystalline blue eyes. A smile further warped the features of his unmasked face as he looked back at her, unable to think of a more suitable course of action. He was rewarded with a soft smile of her own, and the release of some tension about her neck and shoulders. Deep inside, he was pleased to know that he could relax her with something as simple as a smile- but he would not be satisfied until he knew the source of her displeasure.

With a few long strides, Erik had once more returned to the other side of the room, and rather than his chair, chose to sit on the side of the sofa opposite Christine. For a while the crackling of the fire filled the room as its light cast dancing shadows about the room. Christine's eyes had not left his, and she sat silently observing him, as he returned his observation of her. They did not move or speak for what seemed both an instant and an eternity, until Erik extended his arm toward his wife, silently beckoning her to come into his embrace and allow him to comfort her.

Much to Erik's pleasure, Christine obliged him and in less than a moment she was wrapped securely against his chest. Her arms weaved about his waist and he shifted to accommodate her. He buried his face in her silken hair and inhaled its perfume. His long fingers traced patterns on her back, and he felt the air fill and leave her lungs as she heaved a sigh. Erik frowned, shifted yet again so he could look his beloved in the eye. He cupped her cheek in his palm, the tips of his fingers encroaching upon her hairline.

Unable to resist, he maintained eye contact with her as he bent his head and lighted a gentle kiss upon her lips. He continued further, planting adoring kisses on her brow, her cheeks her eyelids and a final one on the tip of her nose before finally pulling back to look at her, happy to see a broad smile plastered across her face. Chuckling, he scooped her up so he could stretch his legs out along the sofa, then replaced her atop his lap, whereupon she situated herself so the she was resting her back upon his chest. Erik's hand settled on her stomach, and her hands intertwined with his, and for a while they remained that way, neither saying a word nor making a move to shatter the moment.

"I love you," Christine murmured, breaking the silence as she turned her head to place a kiss on his neck.

"And I love you," he promptly responded, feeling his heart beat a bit deeper in his chest at her words.

Christine said nothing, but squeezed his hands tighter in hers, and he saw her throat bob as she swallowed, tension creeping back into her body.

"Christine?" Erik's voice was laced with concern, and he tilted his head to better look at her.

Christine looked back up at him and opened her mouth as if to speak, but then shut it, apparently unable to find the words she wished to communicate. Her eyes looked pleadingly up at him, as if willing him to understand what she needed to say, but obviously could not. Erik was quite simply at a loss, so he proceeded to try and communicate through touch where they obviously could not communicate through words. He bent his head and closed his lips over Christine's kissing her slowly and deeply, closing his eyes as sensation flooded him.

Christine kissed him back, matching his slow pace at first, but then becoming more forceful as she deepened the kiss, pushing for a faster speed. Mentally shrugging off his brief surprise, he welcomed her desire for more and met her fervor as it increased ever more. She broke the kiss momentarily, turning herself over so that she was straddling his hips, and then resumed their previous endeavors, kissing him hard on the mouth.

Erik could not restrain the deep growl that escaped his throat as he fairly consumed her with his kiss. He made a concentrated effort to remove his hands from where they had fisted in her hair, for fear he should pull the better part of it out. His fingertips dragged down her back as he brought his hands to her hips, which he held in a harsh grip. She responded with a soft mewl and ground her hips against his growing arousal, effectively sending him into a frenzy. Disengaging from his mouth, she drew a ragged gasp from his throat as she lavished his neck with open- mouthed kisses and lapped at the hollow of his throat.

At last unable to resist her, Erik took Christine up in his arms and hastened to their bedroom, where they were content to proceed. Awash in sensation, they took from one another and then gave back; delighting in the intimacy they shared through their lovemaking. When at last they had both found their release, they each took a moment to collect themselves, panting as the world settled back into its proper place around them.

Warm from exertion and the glowing satisfaction that welled up from inside, Erik allowed a contented sigh to escape his lips. Christine snuggled closer to his side and rested her head on his chest, draping a leg over both of his. A smile curled his lips as he placed a kiss on the crown of her head.

"Erik?" her sweet voice reached his ears and her breath tickled over his skin.

"Hm?" he responded, lifting a hand to stroke her soft curls. A moment passed before she spoke again.

"I have something to tell you," she started shakily. "I'd rather you didn't say anything on the matter, though, until tomorrow, so you have a chance to put your thoughts in order."

Erik frowned slightly, a hint of anxiety welling up in his stomach at the hesitance in her words. He wondered what would be so hard for her to tell him, and that he would need to think about until the morning. He tried to remain calm, knowing that it would be unreasonable to jump to terrible conclusions.

"Alright," he consented, eager for her to come out with whatever it was she had to say. "Not a word from me, I promise you."

"Thank you," she sighed her relief, and kissed his collarbone, another moment passing before she spoke again. "Erik… my menses has been overdue for several weeks now. I'm pregnant. We're going to have a baby."

Erik's muscles tensed immediately and his pulse pounded in his ears. He could barely hear Christine's murmured assurances and words of love through the thoughts that had begun to flood his mind. He felt Christine's lips on his skin as she peppered kisses over his chest, and for the first time he thought of pushing her away. He struggled to breathe as he was overwhelmed with feelings of love for Christine and the hint of desire she inspired with her light kisses, as well as a dread that filled him at the thought of having spawned a child and the terror of having to be a father when he had no idea how to do so.

All these thoughts and emotions mingled within him, and confused him to the point that he felt he might implode. Though Erik tried to maintain his composure, he could hardly help the tremors that began to rack his body, or the rate at which he began to breathe to support the frantic pace of his heart as his body reacted to the news that he had promised not to speak a word of until morning. His heavy breathing turned to gasps for air as tears filled his eyes and he was lost to harsh sobs. Feeling helpless and lost, he turned onto his side and reached out to Christine, desperate for an anchor. He held her tight to his chest and rocked her back and forth- more as a consolation to himself as his tears flowed into her hair, trying to muffle the choked noises coming from his throat by burying his face in the crook of her neck.

Erik began to calm down, though, as Christine soothed him with soft whispers and long strokes of her hand over his back. Eventually, under her gentle ministrations, his breathing returned to normal, and the well of his tears ran dry. When she started softly singing in his ear, he lost his hold on the world altogether, and her song led him into unconsciousness, where he would dwell until he woke to a new day.