Christine managed to find comfort in his arms, in a place any other woman would run from, and for a moment he was thinking of all the things they could share... Erik dreamed of an image of them walking along la Seine in their best dress on a Sunday in Paris, her arm hooked in his as she was smiling up at him with absolute love. She was his wife in this dream and she felt no qualms about leaving Raoul and spending the rest of her life with her angel. The music they would make together! Such sweet music! She would be Paris' most loved soprano and he would be a popular writer and composer with Christine as his muse. And perhaps...down the line there would have a child. A perfect baby that wouldn't be tossed aside like he'd been...
The elevator dinging as the doors opened, tugging him back into bittersweet reality, and the man glanced down at Christine in his arms, her large green eyes currently closed at his command, chest rising and falling steadily.
He couldn't have that dream life in Paris, but he had Christine here and now, and it was just as well. He certainly couldn't complain.
Erik stepped into the hallway and moved towards his room, easily carrying the woman in his arms without much strain--this monster had built up quite a lot of strength through all the turmoils in his life; while some of it had been through labor, the rest had been through his own will to never be overcome and hurt by any human being. It also helped in carrying small Swedish sopranos up to the door of his apartment, so he learned.
Not wanting to let the woman go, Erik's tall form bent down a bit until he was able to capture the door handle in his hand connected to the arm supporting her legs. He twisted, allowing them inside and making it quite simple to kick the door back shut behind them. While he should have let her down in the living room like any civilized gentleman taking the company of a woman, Erik did not wish to have anyone walking in on such private matters...whatever those matters may come to be between them. So he brought Christine into his bedroom and carefully let her down on the edge of his bed instead, helping her sit up as he was crouching down in front of the brunette.
"Is that better," the phantom asked in a gentle tone, his hands placed on either side of her thighs, over the duvet, careful not to touch her further unless she allowed it.