Tuba

"Erik!" Christine calls, hearing a very obnoxious, low tuned instrument bellowing through the lair and assuming correctly he's the cause. She enters the music room – filled with so many instruments it should be impossible to keep track of them all – and finds Erik sitting in an armless, wooden chair and holding a massive, golden… thing. She stops in the doorway, staring. Erik glances up, noticing her entrance with his acute hearing. "What…?"

"It is called a Sousaphone," Erik says, and notices her blank look. "More commonly known as a Tuba, but they are rare in France."

"I can see why," Christine whispers. Erik smirks and positions the tuba correctly before beginning to play again. It's a very low toned instrument, with a kind of… grating noise attached to it. It's obviously a wind instrument, for Erik plays it while blowing into a separate part. She's sure some would like this kind of music, but certainly not her. Erik seems to notice this, because he stops playing quickly.

"I'm sorry, Angel," Erik apologizes, looking slightly worried. "I did not know you would dislike it. Forgive me."

"Oh course, Erik," Christine replies, and then pauses. "I thought you were working on your opera. Surely this isn't going to be a part of it?"

"Oh, no," Erik replies, smirking slightly. "Of course not. This is much too… rough for my opera. Perhaps one day, in another work, but certainly not now." Christine nods in understanding, and watches as he carefully puts it away.

"It is late," Erik comments, glancing at the clock on the desk across the room. Christine squints to see it from such a distance, and realizes that it's almost midnight.

"Oh, my. Yes, it is," Christine replies, but doesn't move to leave. She turns back to Erik, smiling. "Will you sing for me?"

"Of course, my Angel. Come," Erik commands, getting up to lead Christine to her room and a peaceful night's sleep.