Christine's POV
I'd heard that dreams were mere figments of the imagination, come to life. But how could every single human being's imagination be so complex and creative?
Dreams were the proof of creativity. It was true. Even now, as I dreamed of a blissfully peaceful life with Erik, I knew that my imagination was being perfected with every beat of my heart. But that wasn't the reason I was smiling slightly in my unconsciousness.
It was that I knew that my imagination was constructing the future. Or, at least, what I hoped would be the future.
I wished I could sleep and dream forever, and eventually what I dreamt of would become reality. I didn't want to work up to this point. I wanted to leap right in and live it. But Erik would need convincing that the very core of his existence was the most beautiful thing I had ever encountered.
He was not a demon, I was not an angel. We were both living beings, and he was already better than I could ever be.
A cold, yet tender, touch jerked me out of oblivion. "Erik," I said quietly, smiling even wider.
His head lifted up. "Oh...dear, I'm sorry, Christine. I didn't mean to wake you."
I reached out and caressed his cheek slowly. "I don't mind, Erik," I replied.
He sighed, and lowered my hand from his face, clutching it in his own. "How are you feeling, love?"
Up till now, I had been so washed up in Erik's presence, I hadn't even registered my symptoms.
They seemed to hit me like a brick wall. A wave of nausea, a brain-splitting headache...
I fell back against the pillows. "Not so good..." I moaned, clutching my head.
Erik jumped to his feet, causing the wooden chair he'd been sitting on to clatter backwards. "Nadir!"
Through the haze of pain, I heard a faint reply. "What is it, Erik? Is she awake?"
"Yes...call a doctor!"
I was mildly surprised as Nadir obliged without question.
"E-Erik...I-I don't n-need a doctor," I stammered, overtaken by a wave of cold.
He stared at me. "Are you cold, Christine?"
"N-no," I lied unconvincingly, and was immediately compelled to tell the truth by Erik's intense, doubtful expression. "Okay, yes, b-but...all I need is a blanket. Or two." I added, shivering.
He didn't object to my statement, but he didn't answer either, just grabbed the old afghan lying on the chair by the window and a navy blue fleece blanket from the closet and settled them on top of me.
"Is that better?" He asked me.
I nodded, although it had barely made a difference. "Erik..." I whispered. "I can't...stay awake..."
He grasped my hand. "Just...hold on until the doctor gets here. Got it?"
"I don't..." I stumbled over my words. "...need a...doctor..." The last word slipped past my lips, and then the world spun past my very eyes before going utterly black.