Clair de lune

They rode to the Bois in silence, moonlight streaming in through the carriage window. Erik would have preferred to keep the blinds closed but Christine had wanted them open, just another of many sacrifices he made for her happiness. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and, seeing that her attention was focused on the passing scenery, dared to observe her more boldly. Her porcelain skin glowed in the bluish light, reminding him of a child's doll. Erik repressed the urge to stroke her cheek, remembering how she had snatched her hand from his with a cry.