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The question caught her off guard.
"Do you know how to dance?"
Szilvia didn't. Though the embarrassed blush and wiggle of her ears gave her away, she spoke anyway.
"No… I don't. I wish I did, however."
Erik was somewhat taken aback. Most nobles- at least the ones he knew of- were taught how to dance in the ballroom. What happened with her?
"Not even the waltz?"
Szilvia shook her head. An explanation was in order, so it would seem.
"My governess attempted to raise me as human but did not let me socialize. She said it was too dangerous. That I was too dangerous. So, at balls, I tend to just… smile and wave, I suppose. I don't like doing that but it's all I can do. She never taught me how to dance because she didn't think it was necessary."
Erik scoffed- not at Szilvia but at the awful woman, who claimed to have raised her. "Dangerous? Ha! Oh please! You're about as dangerous as a newborn kitten!"
She smirked at him, crossing her arms and arching a brow. "Erik, be very careful with those words," she warned playfully, "you might come to regret them!"
He chuckled and tapped her nose. "I always did love a good challenge. Now, I think we should change your situation. Would you like to learn?"
"Oh yes, more than anything!"
"Then I shall teach you. Come. I know a place we can go. If we're lucky, the guest orchestra players might be practicing this evening. We can listen to them while we begin lessons."
Erik offered her his hand and unlike the two nights before, when Szilvia was afraid she'd simply attack him like a mad animal, she took his hand, no hesitation.
He walked her down his maze of secret corridors, Szilvia was astounded by how many he made. Nobody would find him here. Not with all the 'fake' dead ends and twists and turns.
Neither one spoke during their little journey. These rooms Erik made were sound proof but not the hallways before them. Better to be safe than sorry.
After a few more moments, the couple reached their destination, a larger room with two candelabras and a small table.
On the table was a glass dome and upon further inspection, Szilvia saw that there were shapes cut into the glass, a multitude of stars.
"Oh, I'll show you that shortly," Erik smiled, noticing her curiosity and lighting the candles, "It helps me calm down whenever I begin to panic."
"Where are we?" Szilvia asked, before the orchestra tuning and warming up their instruments, told her of their location.
"How?! We are right next to the stage!"
"We're close but not directly next to it," Erik chuckled, "no need to worry. To begin, do you know anything about waltzing at all?"
Szilvia shook her head. A sudden thought struck her, causing her to blush. Erik was a rather tall man- at least six-foot. Was this not going to look silly with her being four-foot-eleven?
"Nothing. Nothing at all, I'm sorry."
"There's nothing for you to be sorry for, dear. Now, to begin, I suppose in your situation, it is customary for the dancers to greet one another."
Szilvia looked at him quizzically. "How do you know?"
"I've observed many a dance in this opera house and even attended some balls here, myself."
Indeed, Erik had gone to some dances here. Always as The Red Death. Nobody knew it was him until the night he revealed his identity to the party goers- and Christine- to demand they perform 'Don Juan Triumphant.'
Over the years, he'd seen many forms of dance in the opera house. The waltz was the easiest one he had mastered.
His heart began to pound as he announced what happens next, hoping that the romantic advice Nadir gave him all those years ago in Persia would help in this situation. Dear Nadir had always been convinced that there was somebody for everybody.
Erik was beginning to think the old booby was right.
"The man bows to the woman, like so," Erik demonstrated and stood back up straight, "takes her hand…"
He took her hand, marveling at its small size, trying to get his shaking under control, brought her knuckles up to his lips and left a kiss.
Szilvia turned a crimson red in her face, up to her ears, giving him a bashful smile. Erik returned the smile, almost astounded that she did not shy away from his malformed, bloated lips.
"...then asks 'may I have this dance?' That being said, may I?"
"You don't ever need to ask me," Szilvia replied, her smile growing by the second, "I'd be more than happy to dance with you, anytime."
Erik nodded, his own smile almost silly looking. He cleared his throat and continued the lesson, taking one of her hands, while his other hand rested on her hip.
Her blush deepened and at first, he thought it was due to the closeness until she spoke up:
" Kedvesem, are you quite sure I don't look ridiculous? Sometimes I don't like being this small…"
She looked away blushing, before the hand that was on her hip, came up to stroke her cheek, eventually slipping beneath her chin, tilting it up and making her face him.
"No. You don't look ridiculous at all. In fact… Erik thinks you look beautiful," his fingertips traveled up to lightly graze at her cheek, before repositioning his hand back at her hip.
This one, simple, little gesture, only caused Szilvia to want more. His touch was so warm and she had only ever experienced cold.
'Beautiful' was more of an understatement in Erik's eyes. They had come back in from their rooftop stargazing, played some chess and Szilvia decided a change of dress was necessary, so she did just that.
When she emerged after changing, Erik- who was normally so stoic- couldn't help but let his jaw drop, upon seeing her.
She wore a dress of the most crimson red, long and flowing, though it was hemmed at the ankles, so she could walk. The shoulder straps which were more of a sash, dropped off of her shoulders a bit.
This dress admittedly exposed both her shoulders and neck. That sleeve design was already questionable but Szilvia cared not. She did care, however, about her neck being exposed, even though the dress was meant for balls.
According to Claude Harper, a vampire expert in one of her towns, her species never exposed their necks, due to the fear of their throat being slit.
It may not kill them but it certainly rendered them weak and horribly injured. Thus they preferred to wear high necked collar clothing, as it was appropriate for the time, anyway.
Vampires only exposed their necks in the open as Szilvia now did, as a sign of extreme trust around an individual… or if they are saying they are available for courting.
"Thank you." Szilvia remarked, her cheeks nearly as red as her dress. She wasn't used to compliments and doubted she ever would be.
"Of course darling," Erik replied, "next, all we are going to do is move in a square. Waltzing is very simple when one gets a feel for it."
The countess stared at him, bewildered. "...Square?"
"Like this," Erik explained, grabbing a piece of chalk on the nearby table.
He drew a large square on the ground and stepped back into it, Szilvia back into position as well.
She began to understand just a little. This was new and sometimes, new meant scary. What if she couldn't dance? What if he became angry and annoyed with her, like her governess used to?
No… no. Szilvia quickly put that out of her mind, refocusing on the task at hand.
"Since I'm the lead and you follow, you must do my steps backwards. Watch-"
He slowly moved his left foot to the left, top corner of the box, his right foot following and stepping to the right upper corner. He brought his left foot next to his right foot, before taking a step back with his right.
His left foot moved back to the left, bottom corner where he began with his right foot joining its twin. He repeated these steps a few more times, before looking up at Szilvia.
"Have I lost you yet?"
Erik was right. It did seem simple enough but looks could be deceiving.
"I-I think I would go right, then?" Szilvia guessed, trying to mirror what he just did but going right.
"That's right!" He beamed proudly, "excellent work, Szilvie! Now we dance!"
"Wait!" Szilvia hesitated, "please! I- I'm going to misstep- I'm going to do it wrong!"
Erik ran his fingers through her hair, momentarily forgetting his fingers were long and skeletal. They might cause her to recoil… though his touch never had before.
In a way, she reminded him of Christine here. His former pupil had been so afraid of making mistakes and angering her angel.
So, he told Szilvia what he told Christine, seven years ago:
"My dear, we are not perfect beings to start out. Mistakes are necessary for honing our craft. I expect some mistakes to be made this evening but it doesn't mean it's a bad thing."
The countess leaned into his touch, purring softly as a bat would. His palm, which she nuzzled into, came to cup her cheek.
"I promise, I'm not going to get angry," he assured her, "I imagine your governess probably did and she was wrong. You were only a child. Come! You can do this! I know you can!"
His hands repositioned themselves back to her hand and hip. "When I step forward to the left, you will step backwards, to the right! And-"
The steps began. Erik, poised and confident, Szilvia new and unsure. Her first step was backwards as it should be yet she nearly faltered.
She almost slid with her left foot, rather than her right, before completing her half of the square movement.
"Right, dear, right," Erik reminded her.
"Yes, I'm sorry."
"There's nothing for you to be sorry for. You're still learning. Again!"
They repeated these steps several times, with every passing repeat, Szilvia got better, getting mixed up maybe two or three times.
It was starting to click however. Erik could see it, the cogwheels in her mind were turning, slowly but surely, Szilvia was starting to get it.
"Excellent, Szilvie, you're doing wonderfully!" He encouraged, watching her gain confidence.
Hopefully, if everything went according to his plan, the orchestra would play what they were supposed to, if word of mouth was right.
"Keep moving, just like so! See? It's that simple!"
He was so proud of her. Yes, it was a mere box movement but the fact that she was courageous enough to keep moving through her mistakes and had the beginners' steps nearly mastered, made him incredibly happy for her.
She was a quick learner when it came to dancing. Perhaps in a few days, she could move on to advanced techniques.
At last, Erik heard it:
The opening notes of ' Danse Macabre' by Saint-Saëns. Perfect. Just as he wanted and hoped. The people discussing the songs that would be played were correct.
He grinned at Szilvia, keeping up the square motions. "You hear that, don't you?"
She thought she felt her still heart swell with happiness. Her all time favorite song for eternity and they were right where they could hear it.
"Did you know they would play this?" She asked, giving him a smirk as she continued to dance in place.
"Perhaps… Erik doesn't know everything that goes on in this opera house, you know!"
"Liar." Szilvia accused playfully, before yelping upon feeling the hand on her hip giving a light squeeze.
"Mind your tongue, mademoiselle," Erik chuckled at how she jumped out of her skin. "Think you can keep up these motions, while moving around the room a bit?"
Szilvia nodded. "I'll do my best!"
The pair moved slowly at first. Just so she could get used to the feeling. Once Erik felt she had a good handle on it, he moved faster.
It took her a moment to realize that he was trying to match the rhythm of the song. This was not an easy feat, seeing as this was not your average dancing piece of music. Come to think of it, could one even dance to this?
What Szilvia was finding out, however, was that if Erik was determined enough, he'd make it work. They shared a smile and he got lost in the music, unable to help but twirl her.
The action surprised her, gaining a delighted laugh in response. He did it again, only attempting a dip afterwards.
Was it less than perfect? Yes. Was it a bit awkward? Absolutely. Did Szilvia care? No! He grinned down at her, admiring her eyes. If he had the courage to kiss her, he would have. But Erik was too afraid.
When he brought Christine to his home, the first time, it had been planned. Months of careful preparation had been put into it. Admittedly so, this had led him to become rather smug and too self assured, (almost worse than when he was, as a young man in Persia) making the unfolding events end worse.
Szilvia was not planned, however. He couldn't put on an air of confidence like he did with Christine. Every flaw- both physical and mental- was on display for this woman and it frightened him greatly.
Yet, Szilvia did not scream or act afraid, the previous night when he became unmasked by accident. Her reaction had been abnormal , seeing as she found his face interesting and was unfazed by it.
Then again, being a vampyre, Szilvia was not going to be normal.
Lifting her back up, they continued their dance, Erik twirling her once again, only this time, opting to keep her in his arms, almost swaying a bit.
He could feel his heart racing. If he spun her around one more time to change her position, making her face him instead of away, he could kiss her. God, would he even be brave enough to do such a thing?
An idea came to mind. It was more than a little mean but it could lead to something! If he did this, perhaps it could open the door!
Erik spun her around to make her face him. A bashful smile tugged at her lips.
"Erik, what are you-"
He pressed his index finger to her lips, the air of confidence returning briefly now. "Be silent for a moment, my little bat," he smirked.
If Szilvia's heart had been beating, it would have leapt out of her chest upon seeing him smirk.
Why does this man fluster me so?
Her heart would have ruptured with his next course of actions. The Opera Ghost slowly leaned in- that smirk still on his face- as he slipped his hand beneath her chin to make her tilt her head up.
Time slowed to a crawl for Szilvia in those next few moments. Her nerves became shot when Erik leaned closer still, until his lips for just one agonizingly cruel second, fleetingly touched hers and suddenly left quicker than they came.
Erik pulled away, grinning, acting as if he'd done nothing. "You dance wonderfully, by the way!" He said with an innocent tone that was anything but.
He snickered at her red cheeks and how her ears wiggled embarrassedly. The woman was positively adorable!
" Erik…" She nearly growled, "what in Red Death's name, was that?"
"What was what, my dear?"
Szilvia was silent for a good moment before deciding an appropriate punishment, her hands shooting out to squeeze rapidly at his hips.
He yelped, before collapsing into a fit of loud, high pitched laughter, sinking to the ground.
She was more than a little flustered, considering how red her cheeks and ears were. She looked as if she'd drank six quarts of blood, if not more.
"Szilvie! Szilvie, please!" Erik begged through giggles, "have mercy!"
'Mercy'?! After the foolery he just pulled, he expected mercy?! He had another thing coming, if that was how he was going to play!
"After whatever that was, I will do no such thing!" Szilvia replied, going for his bony ribs, keeping her touch light and gentle.
High pitched cackles with the occasional snort, flew free from his lips as he laughed so hard, he couldn’t form words, his mind in a whirl of mirth.
Well, this didn't go as he'd hoped! He'd expected her to attempt to kiss him back, not tickle him into an early grave!
"Are you sorry?" Szilvia questioned playfully, unable to keep the adoring grin off of her face.
She'd heard many laughs in her immortal existence but his by far, was her favorite.
Erik laughed harder at the question, shaking his head 'no,' as his legs peddled frantically. Why should he be? He was only trying to make his feelings known to her!
Though perhaps… a love song would be a better route. He'd write one for her soon.
"I suppose I'll just have to make you sorry!" She chuckled softly, hands now squeezing at his thighs.
Erik jolted, immediately regretting the poor life choice that led up to this moment. His snorts came out more frequently and his laughter reached another octave.
"I'm sorry!" He all but shrieked, "have pity!"
Szilvia laughed. It never took long for him to yield if his thighs were targeted.
"Are you going to ever do that again?"
He hid the unmasked side of his face with his hand, trying to cover the silly grin that had been plastered across his lips.
"No…" he got out at last, looking up at her, mirroring her adoring expression.
They both knew it was a lie. He was like a giant child, unable to keep himself out of trouble for long.
".... Erik, stop being cute before I do another round on you, you know vampyres have poor impulse control." Szilvia remarked.
The Phantom blushed brightly. 'Cute'?! The feared Opera Ghost was anything but! He wasn't 'cute,' she was as mad as he was!
"Erik is not cute!" He denied, sitting back up, smoothing his wig and clothing.
Where on earth did she ever get that notion, that he was cute?!
"Hush, you silly man and take your compliments!"
He grumbled something under his breath, huffing at her words. That was easier said than done as he was unused to compliments.
"Could you show me that curious dome now?" She asked, going to the little table, after helping him to his feet.
He chuckled softly, rummaging in the drawer for a match. "Yes, of course. I think you'll like it."
Under the dome, there was a little candle. Upon lighting the wick, the ceiling above them lit up with dozens upon dozens of stars and constellations, that he had worked painstakingly hard to carve the small designs into the glass.
Szilvia gasped, never having seen anything like this before.
"And… you made this yourself?"
"I did. It's one of the few things I'm proud of."
Her gaze was transfixed on the faux stars. His gaze was fixed on her smile.
"Do you suppose we could make one, when we get to the castle, after you settle in?"
Erik smiled, combing his fingers through her hair just to hear her purr again.
"I think that would be a wonderful project. I'd love to."
They'd stayed in this secret room for a few minutes longer, before deciding to go back to his home. She gave him her hand once more, which shocked him, due to the fact that she interlaced their fingers.
"Guide me back, please…" Szilvia requested, "I cannot see that well in the darkness."
Both of them knew it was a lie. Her eyes glowed in the dark like his for goodness sake! She even remarked the night before that vampyres can see remarkably well in darkness.
She just wants my touch, Erik realized, this must be a dream. Yet if I am dreaming, I hope I do not awaken anytime soon.
"Of course, my dear," he smiled softly, playing along, "it will be my pleasure."
They traversed through the corridors once more, after Erik extinguished the candles in the room. Neither one spoke until Szilvia saw some clothes and belongings, upon turning a corner.
"I think you might have a homeless person living with you," she whispered, "though I haven't seen his or possessions anywhere else. I think this little area is their home."
Erik nearly bristled before regaining control over himself. Somebody was in his home. His first thought was to plot out that persons murder, until he reminded himself that he no longer did such things.
Murder was behind him. He'd not killed in seven years, making a silent promise to Christine that he would never intentionally harm another person again.
"Well then… I suppose this man picked a rather lovely place to call his own," Erik finally remarked after several long seconds.
Judging from the clothes strewn about, it was a man.
"He did! Though it's a wonder that he hasn't bumped into you, yet!"
"He needs to be careful. This is my domain and certain places are highly dangerous. There are many death traps here."
Erik spoke louder than usual so the man could hear him. God, he hoped that the poor soul didn't wander too far and get killed. He didn't need anymore blood on his hands.
It occurred to him that Szilvia never stopped holding his hand during their little stop. For some reason, it made Erik smile a little. Though he became quite serious with his next statement.
"Szilvie, please don't go anywhere in this place without me," he requested, "I do not wish to control you, I just want you to be safe."
Szilvia nodded in agreement, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I understand."
They made the rest of their journey back in silence until they reached his lair. Once they were back, Szilvia went to the spare room Erik let her sleep in and changed into a nightgown.
She had decided to move all of her belongings from the inn she was staying at- with the exception of her coffin- here. Despite sleeping so well the first day, she still didn't feel as well rested without the soil from Hungary in the coffin.
A small price to pay. But she and her love interest would be home soon enough. Erik changed into what he considered sleep wear as well, though it could hardly be considered as such.
He simply took off his cape, vest and waistcoat, leaving only his white dress shirt and trousers.
A beloved mandarin robe, gifted to him by Nadir before Erik fled Persia, was really the only piece of clothing he changed into. He regarded Szilvia with an almost bashful gaze.
"Would you have any objections if I were to remove my mask?"
He fully expected her to say 'yes.'
"Not at all. Please take it off. I'm sure it must be irritating to your skin."
Erik blinked. Did he hear her correctly? With trembling hands, he took the mask off, both relieved for his skin and frightened that perhaps Szilvia would be disgusted this time.
She smiled, approaching him cautiously so as to not startle him. She levitated herself off of the ground, removing his wig as well.
"There we are. Do you feel better? I hope so!"
Erik said nothing but nodded, golden eyes becoming glassy with unshed tears. How? How was this possible? She should have screamed, should have struck him or fled yet Szilvia did none of these things for a second time.
It was overwhelming. It was mind boggling. He was given kindness instead of harm and he couldn't wrap his head around it yet.
"Why?" Erik whispered, "you aren't frightened, you aren't-" his words died away into a choked back sob.
Why was she so nice?
Before he could utter another word, her arms were wrapped around him, trying to make him feel as safe and secure as possible.
He buried his face against her shoulder, weeping softly, feeling as though he did not deserve such compassion. He was a monster, a hideous creature of The Devil himself.
Why would Szilvia be as sweet to him as she had been?
She whispered affirmations to him, trying to soothe and comfort, trying to heal the decades of pain that had been inflicted upon him. He sobbed quietly, his hands forming into fists as he clutched her nightgown.
Erik had only ever been comforted maybe three times in his life. Once by Madame Giry, after she freed him from the traveling freak show, another from Nadir in Persia and the other by Christine after she unmasked him the first time- or rather she tried.
Comfort was foreign. Comfort felt forbidden. It would take a long while before he ever would become used to Szilvia's affectionate and dare he say, loving hands.
For now, all he could do was allow these bothersome negative emotions to run their course. And Szilvia let him. She gave him as much time as he needed to process, then feel.
Perhaps… just maybe… this woman meant what she said, when she told him how his deformity did not trouble her. If this was the case, then it could mean the world to Erik.
He trusted her. He put his faith in her. Putting trust and faith in another person was not an easy feat for him. Yet the countess showed him it was possible.
After several minutes of silence- save for the occasional sob on Erik's end- it was calm once more. He regained composure but did not want to let her go.
"Forgive me," he breathed, his voice still thick with some tears, "I didn't mean-"
Szilvia shushed him gently, stroking his face, focusing on the deformed half.
Mother of God, she touched his face and did not die!
"There is absolutely nothing to apologize for," she soothed, "I know. And I'm sorry for this pain you have been dealt with. But know I will not allow you to be alone any longer and your face is not a concern to me."
Erik nodded, still hugging her tightly. She was his anchor. His rock. He wasn't ready to let her go yet. Luckily, Szilvia thought of a solution.
"Come. Take me to your room. I'll lay down with you."
I think my madness is worsening! She didn't just say that! The absinthe I drank earlier today is causing hallucinations!
"I- I'm not sure if we should… it is improper…"
"Who would know? Nobody is here except for us!"
"....And a homeless gentleman."
"Who is nowhere near where we are."
That was a fair point, Erik supposed. He sighed, deciding he was fighting a losing battle. Though really, he didn't want to fight her. He'd do anything she asked of him.
Erik led them to his bed, slipping his shoes off, settling under the blankets. He couldn't help but blush the entire time. A woman was in his bed. An actual, living, breathing female.
Did the living dead count?
She was so small but insisted on holding him against her. Her hands worked out the tension and knots in his back. Erik melted like butter.
He had to be dreaming or hallucinating. This couldn't be real. Though the nails lightly scratching at his scalp said otherwise.
"That… feels lovely." Erik remarked, an irritating, familiar heaviness starting to make its presence known on his eyelids.
Szilvia laughed, continuing to administer to him. "It's supposed to, silly. I'm trying to relax you."
"Well, stop it! You're making me just about fall asleep!" He scolded playfully.
"No!" She snickered, working out a particularly nasty set of knots on his shoulder blades.
Being the stubborn man he was, Erik continued to fight, despite burying his face into a pillow, groaning.
"Szilvie, how long have you been countess of Hungary? How long has it just been you in that castle?"
"At least a hundred years, if my math is correct. I imposed isolation on myself, shortly after I was abandoned by my governess and my reign began."
She'd spoken briefly of this before. Despite trying to hide the pain in her voice, Erik still heard it.
"You didn't deserve it," he said sympathetically, "any of it."
"Neither did you."
Erik shifted on his other side now, to face her, now pulling her against him.
"It will be a new start for both of us. I'm grateful for this. Thank you for letting me come back to Hungary."
Szilvia smiled, reaching up to stroke what sparse hair he had.
"Think nothing of it. I can't wait for you to meet my wolves!"
"I can't either! I've heard they're wonderful creatures but never seen any up close!"
It seemed as if the two were up for hours, discussing Hungary and its sights. It all sounded spectacular to Erik. Even better that Szilvia's castle was situated in the woods.
Peace, quiet and nobody to bother him. No prying eyes coming to peek at The Opera Ghost. He could finally be himself.
As soon as Szilvia mentioned her library, Erik became so excited, he nearly didn't want to give into the sleep that was nagging away at him.
A library! A whole library to just sit and read, in between composing and the tranquility of everyday life! He couldn't wait! Her collection might even inspire new songs!
Sleep called out to The Phantom. He could feel himself slipping into the blackness behind his eyelids. He feared the nightmares but felt that his nocturnal bed guest would keep him safe.
"Sleep, kedvesem, " Szilvia encouraged, "I'm here."
A yawn escaped. Erik relented, arms wrapped around her as if she were a child's cuddle toy. He nuzzled his face into her hair, closing his eyes, breathing deeply.
"Thank you…"
Her hands roamed his back, rubbing up and down.
"Anything for you, Erik."
A few moments later, he spoke no more, falling into a deep, restful sleep for the first time in many years.
Szilvia kept vigil on him throughout the night, unwilling to let his mind torment or haunt him.
Tomorrow morning, they packed for Hungary. The same night they would head to their final destination, ready to see what the future held now that they had found each other.
"There is something at work in my soul which I do not understand."
-Mary Shelly