I'd been watching him without his knowing for several minutes now. His graceful hands gliding over the piano keys, stopping, turning to the paper that lay on the table next to him, and scribbling down notes. It was not his Don Juan Triumphant, I was sure, but it was beautiful.
My eyes fixated on his hands. His long fingers moved with an ease I was sure I'd never know and seemed to dance the waltz over the keys. His hands were slim, like the rest of him. Thin and almost bony, but graceful. Beautiful.They created music so pure that it made me want to cry.
He turned suddenly, his mismatched eyes focusing on me. "Were you planning to stand there all night, my dear?" he chided.
I felt myself blush. "I… became caught up in your music," I answered him slowly. I took a breath, praying for the courage that I needed to do what I wanted to do and moved forward. His eyes bore into me intently as I knelt next to him. It was an action I had done so many times before as he told me stories by the fire or even sang quietly, but he knew as well as I did that that was not what was happening. I reached out slowly, touching one of his slender hands.
I heard him take a sharp breath, and I feared for a moment he would pull from me. Erik had always been the perfect gentleman. Never letting his touch linger too long or coming anywhere close to being inappropriate. The perfect gentleman…
My hands took his up and I ran my fingers along it. He seemed to have stopped breathing by the time I looked up. I blushed deeply, feeling suddenly very foolish. "I'm sorry…" I began, stumbling over how to explain myself. "It's just… has anyone ever told you that you have very lovely hands?" I blurted out.
He stared at me for a moment, unsure of how to respond. His hand was still grasped in between mine. "No…" he said at last, his voice very quiet, as if unsure if that was the response he was supposed to give.
"Well they are. Very beautiful in fact." I swallowed, turning my eyes down to his hand so that I would not have to look into his eyes. Those eyes were a whole other matter I was not yet ready to let my mind wander on. "Where did you get this scar?"
He watched me trace the horrible scar that snaked from the middle of his palm down to his wrist. "I broke a mirror once."
I laughed a bit, not really knowing why. "Why would you do a silly thing like that?" I teased him.
He turned from me. Now it was he that would not make eye contact.
I sighed and released his hand. "Well, your hands are very beautiful, scars or no," I said, as if concluding a long speech.
"Thank you," he said at length. "Shall we continue with your lessons for the day?"
I smiled and nodded. "Whenever you please."
A/N: Erik and Christine make for very good fluff and very good angst.