Erik glanced sideways at his companion before swallowing a good portion of the gin in his glass. Baring his teeth, he sucked air between his lips and set the highball back on his knee again. "Perhaps as little as there is to know about me," he said.
She seemed to be younger than he was, but her eyes and her demeanor showed a maturity that belied her seeming age. He wondered about that. He wondered about her eyes - a perhaps-deformity that she had corrected in the same way he had corrected his through his mask. He wondered many things about her. She intrigued him, he realized after staring at the lip of his glass. She intrigued him, and he had no business or call to ask her to reveal herself or her past to him.
And neither did he have reason to share the darkness behind him, either. Even with Christine, it had taken him time to tell her. Hannibal himself never knew the full history of the Opera Ghost - though Hannibal never had to know it.
"Will you still sing for me?" he asked, at last, focusing on the one thing he needed to know without question. "Now that Hannibal is gone, you may want to change your mind."