Glass Skin (Discontinued.)

14

Having a towel placed on her head, Fleurette peeked out. Standing up from the desk, she followed Erik. He had taken to trying to find some clean warm clothes for the both of them. On the way back down they'd passed one of the bathrooms. The towels needless to say got spirited away. Erik tensed when something impacted against his head. Fleurette's face peeked under the towel. "You need to get dry too, remember?" She commented quietly while gently rubbing the towel on his hair.

"Your need to get dry is greater than mine. You after all have a show to perform in two days. You can't become ill from this." Erik countered.

"Ah," Fleurette nodded and pulled the towel down from his head, she rested it around his neck. "But the one attendee for the show that I care for mustn't be ill." Fleurette smiled at her comeback.

"Remember I told you before the cold doesn't effect me like it does you."

"We weren't in the cold, Erik, we were in the rain. That's completely different."

Erik rolled his eyes and slowly took the towel off of her head. For the most part running through the theatre to get back down below had dried them off. Before they were dripping soaked right through, but now they were damp and almost dry. Watching as a drop started its downward journey, Fleurette reached up with the towel corner and dabbed it over Erik's forehead. He pulled away slightly when she went to remove his mask.

She let out a sigh and hung her head. "You do not have to hide from me. Have I not said something along these lines before?"

"I do not see a need for it to be removed." Erik stated bluntly.

Fleurette raised an eyebrow. "You really want to keep a wet mask on?" She smiled, "That's very silly of you. But if you wish it, so be it." She turned away while attempting to tie her damp hair up. Crouching down in front of the trunk which was at the bottom of the bed, she opened it up slowly. Most of her clothes were neatly folded within it. Hearing the bed quietly shift from sudden weight, she looked up while pulling out a clean nightdress. Putting it on the end of the bed, she turned to where a rickety old chest of drawers sat. Between them they had successfully managed to find small pieces of furniture that no one was using and bought it down to their home.

Fleurette folded the clean shirt over her arms, picking up the towel which Erik had discarded, she walked over and sat slowly down in front of him. He was seemingly busy inspecting the bed cover beneath him. Feeling a tap on his head, he looked up, Fleurette held out the towel and watched as he took it from her hands. Putting it over his slowly drying hair, he looked at her. Giving a smile, she picked up her change of clothes and turned to walk to one of the small alcoves down here which she used to dress and change in.

Moments later she came out wringing the nightdress, she winced at the water drops which pounded quietly against the stony floor. Tilting her head to the side, she placed it on the floor to dry. Hopefully the surrounding candles would aid it in the drying process, but she wasn't counting on it too much. Walking lightly over, she pushed some stray damp curls out of her face. Sitting down on the bed again, she yawned quietly and swung her legs lazily. Giving a sigh, she knelt in front of him and reached out for the towel.

"Honestly, do you want to get a chill?" She asked while rubbing the towel. Pulling it down she smoothed out his hair again, he slowly looked up at her. "You look deep in thought again." She commented while continuing to run her fingers through his hair. She smiled lightly when he shut his eyes and leaned against her hands. "What's wrong?"

Erik's eyes quickly opened. "Must there always be something wrong?"

"No," Fleurette said with a quick nod. "I guess not." Kissing him on the forehead she sat back down and handed him the dry shirt. Leaning back against the bed she shut her eyes, she listened to the quiet sounds of material against material, before a noise similar to a squelch signalled the damp shirt landing on the floor. Propping herself onto her elbows, she frowned. Reaching out she stopped him from fully pulling up the item of clothing. "What happened?" She whispered while her fingers gently glided over the multitude of scars, some of which criss-crossed over his back. She didn't know why these where here, nor did she know they were there. Promptly shrugging her hand away, Erik sat doing the buttons up. Having Fleurette's hand turn his head to face her, he slowly looked up. "You can tell me, you know?" She said quietly. "You know everything about me. Some things I didn't even need to tell you. You can confide in me, like I'd confide in you."