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It had been a few days since Christine had a singing lesson, thanks to a wretched cold. Whether it was from the frigid winter air or the fact that several of ballet corps had recently been sick, it was unknown, but nonetheless, Christine had fallen ill.
After having already missed two lessons, she had attempted to make it to the next, but when she arrived and her teacher had noticed that her speaking voice was almost an octave lower from congestion, he declared that she was in no state to practice singing and had immediately ordered her to get some rest. She spent the day on the sofa, then moved to Erik’s spare bedroom for the night, not having the energy to drag herself back to her dormitory.
That was two days prior to the present, and Christine had only managed to get worse since. So much so that Erik had briefly considered going to fetch a physician, only to realize that it wouldn’t have been wise—or safe—to bring a random stranger down to his home. At first, he thought he might simply carry her back to her dormitory and have Madame Giry take things over, but every time he heard a cough or sniffle come from the spare bedroom, his urge to take her back lessened. After all, surely the cold, unfamiliar hands of a doctor couldn’t provide the same comfort as his own.
And so, firm in his resolve to continue caring for the woman he so deeply loved, Erik found himself standing over the stove, stirring a boiling pot of chicken soup. He inhaled the aroma for a moment before he produced a fresh spoon from a nearby drawer and dipped it into the steaming hot liquid. Drawing the spoon out of the pot, he blew gently on it, then brought it to his lips to taste. He frowned slightly and set the utensil aside before he reached over to his cutting board to add to the soup a sprig of rosemary, a handful of parsley, and a dash of oregano, then tasted the broth again. At deciding the soup was finally done, he wiped his hands on his apron and opened an overhead cabinet, taking down a bowl.
A few minutes later, Erik had everything neatly set out on a tray—the bowl of soup, a freshly-baked bread roll, and a cup of green tea—and had removed his apron. He picked up the tray and brought it to the guest bedroom, knocking softly on the door. “Christine?”
“Come in,” came the quiet, gravely reply.
“I brought you something,” Erik said with a small smile as he stepped into the room. “I know you haven’t been all that hungry, but I thought some soup might help you somewhat.”
“Thank you, Erik, that’s very sweet,” Christine replied, smiling for the first time that day as he gently set the tray on her lap. “I would say that it smells nice, but I can’t exactly smell anything at the moment."
“That’s quite alright,” Erik said with a quiet laugh, pressing a kiss to her temple. “How are you feeling?”
“About the same as I was the last time you asked: still miserable,” Christine said with a sigh as she stuck her spoon in the broth and mindlessly stirred it.
Erik’s brow creased sympathetically, upset to see her so very unlike herself. “Is there anything else I can do for you, my angel?”
“Stay with me?” Christine requested softly, moving her free hand to gently pat the spot beside her on the mattress. “I much prefer it when you’re around.”
Wringing his hands slightly, Erik nodded and moved closer to the bed. “I don’t see why,” he said with a bit of a laugh as he sat down beside her.
“Because you’re sweet to me, and you take good care of me,” Christine replied, a warm smile on her face as she leaned her head against his shoulder.
Erik tensed for a moment at this unexpected action, though he quickly recovered his senses and hesitantly wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I…thank you, Christine, that’s very kind of you to say. I simply try to do my best.”
“And that’s all I need,” Christine assured.
For the rest of the afternoon, Erik did just as she had asked and remained by her side. He was pleased when she had eventually finished her soup and tea, relieved that her appetite was slowly returning. He was surprised, however, when Christine, after finishing her meal and setting her tray on the bedside table, moved to cuddle close to his side and soon drifted off to sleep. Erik’s heart warmed as he watched her, and he wrapped his other arm securely around her, though whether it was for his comfort or hers, he couldn’t say. He only knew that he loved her with all of his heart and would do anything to take care of her, now and always.