Chapter Text
It was scandalous, how they were sat.
As Christine slowly cleaned the wound, she stayed quiet, embarrassed for yet another scene of strife and pain caused by her rash actions. The thoughts buzzing about her brain pulled her away from the task at present, and her hands fell back down to a bowl of water, soiled by the blood from Raoul’s wound. The splash of it woke her again from her thoughts, only to blink and look up again.
Raoul had been watching her as she fixed his wound for him, knowing she was nervous to be in the position they were. It wasn’t proper, even for an engaged couple, to be about each other when one is half dressed - at least in public, as they were. But he had been sat, his shirt being cleaned and mended by one of the many seamstresses in the opera house. Christine was nervous to leave it, after the occurrences at the cemetery just a little over an hour ago.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, clearing her throat as she reached for the cloth bandage by her. Raoul helped her by moving his arm, allowing her the space needed to wrap his wound.
“You have a lot on your mind,” he offered politely. “I don’t want to seem as if I am guarding you… but I do want you to be safe.” And that was true. He felt he had bothered her like a hawk these days. But since Monsieur Bouquet had been murdered, Christine was ever more on edge due to the Opera Ghost.
The Phantom.
Her head nodded, her face showing her fear and sadness. Raoul had been the only reason to continue on; to work at this building that now seemed to be a prison. “I wish I had never sang. In Hannibal,” she whispered, tying the bandage up, then letting her hands fall to her lap. “Perhaps you would have just seen me dancing; you would have found me that way.”
As nobody else was around, Raoul moved Christine so she sat on his lap. “You are a marvellous talent; to share your voice with that audience that night was what you deserved,” he reassured, his hand going to her face, running his thumb over her cheek. “None of this is your fault. It never has been, nor will be.” With his free hand, he took one of hers and kissed it, trying to cheer her up even a small bit.
A small smile grew on her gentle features as she looked at his face. “We should get you a new shirt,” she said, nodding her head.
“Why? No good?” He joked, playfully flexing a few of the muscles there, only to wince when his bandaged arm moved a bit too much. “Very funny…”
Christine let out a giggle at that, covering her mouth after. “See what you get for showing off! Let me get you a new shirt. You should get home and rest.” She held his chin gently, giving him a quick peck to his lips before getting back up.