She was so close, now, and her nearness burned him. He didn't withdraw further, but a rare uncertainty settled over him all the same. What was he to do? What should he do, faced with her here, alone, on the stage where he desperately wanted her to stay?
"Why are you here?" he asked, after the silence stretched too thinly between them. He should be angry that she'd broken the sanctuary of his Opera House; no one should be here at this time in this place. But after seeing her glowing under the stage light, he couldn't deny that she belonged here at any time, whenever she wanted to be here. She fit.
"Who let you in?" Again his voice came out of the darkness, a deep and sultry sound, pitched low and quiet, enough to make one want to lean toward him to catch the sound. He'd learned very early in life to use his voice to hypnotize and compel. It was almost supernatural, and certainly seemed that way in the rosy hours of Mazenderan and beyond. Erik took a soundless breath.
This moment here felt heavy with importance. He knew that he was living a pivot point in his life, though he didn't know exactly how it would change him. And so he waited and watched.