Enigma was right about some of it. He would have been angry with her, had she foregone performing while he was... otherwise engaged. But he had been gone far too long from this music, from those voices, from that voice. Wan and weary, with lines etched in his face that had not been there a week ago, Erik nevertheless leaned forward at the first golden note from his Violetta. Ahh... There she was. There. Something restless and hungry inside him, something that had always been with him, finally stopped its pacing and settled quietly.
Here was the reason he attended tonight. The music alone, the music alone would have been enough of a draw, enough of a reason... but that pure, sweet voice on stage soothed him better than the milky white derivative of the Persian poppy.
He exhaled slowly, and finally turned to the kitten at his side who had managed to get herself into a pout. She just confirmed exactly what he had imagined she'd done: stayed with him - ah, for four days, was it? - while he was laid low. It was more kindness than any other humans had shown him, only his dearest Daroga aside. And Christine, who had begged him to touch her. The memory of that stirred a violent longing in his heart. He pulled his mind away from that memory swiftly.
"Enigma," Erik said, his voice pitched so low that it could barely rise far enough for her to hear over the music. Black-gloved fingers gently lifted the hand he'd wrenched from his knee earlier. The anger from discovering her in a wretched state faded when he recognized at last why she was as she was. Across the back of her hand, he brushed his lips. "Thank you for what you did. Do me one grand favor more and tend to yourself now."