"Do you despise me, Christine?" he asked as he turned his feverish stare in my direction.
"Of course not, Erik," I answered, my voice concerned, a deep worry plaguing my mind at Erik's shaking hands and unsteady stance. "…I could never hate you," I said, my voice filled with absoluteness and confidence, even though my mind was slightly taken aback by the deceiving smile which slowly graced his lips. Unconsciously, I studied his lingering expression as he came closer and closer, his unsteady steps diminishing the short distance between us. I couldn't help but be disturbed by the contradictory nature and the familiarity of this particular visage. It was one I had seen before… but only in the nightmares of my days long past.
"Liar," he stated simply, as if speaking to a deceptive child, his words laced in a cold, unwavering tone. He paused for a moment, silently reaching for his mask, shakily laying his hand on top of its cold surface, as if to make sure that it was still there… that his deformity was still there. Then, after confirming the porcelain's existence, his smile broadened, and he continued further. "Fear can turn to hate, my dear."
"Erik, I don't hate you, I-"
"You do hate me…just as I hate you." At this, I let out a sudden gasp, and he looked at me as though my surprise was juvenile, ignorant. "Yes, I despise you; I despise all creatures born with such endless beauty…such unacknowledged fortune," he said, his voice growing quiet, and solemn, while his fingers gently ventured through my hair. "Those who live in ignorance of the endless suffering their intolerance has brought me…" Suddenly, his hand captured a lock of hair, and he held it tightly, his knuckles turning as white as his mask. "I cannot stand the comparison of my likeness to yours."
As he said this, my body went cold. Immediately, I turned away, attempting to hide from his hard, bitter stare, and his cold, cruel words. Their malice was only furthered by the truth which they accompanied.
Minutes passed, and neither he nor I said another word. Neither of us made any movement, nor did we break the intense state we shared. Even though my mind hopelessly searched for something to day, I could not bring myself to speak. I could barely even breathe, and I could feel a river of tears begin to fall down my cheeks.
"…And yet, I love you so much more…" he suddenly whispered, as his cold hand carefully grazed my cheek, and moved down to my neck, delicately exploring the endless curls which fell along side my throat. At this, I immediately looked back to him, seeing that the sadistic smile had washed away and was replaced with a look of despair and pain, pain which I could never fully comprehend. He never looked in my eyes as he continued his exploration of skin and curls.
"Erik-"
"I adore you," he admitted dejectedly. "I crave every single part of you, your soul, your voice… your skin …" As he said this, he ran his thumb along my bottom lip, and I quickly reached for his hand, holding it to my lips, gasping at its chill and continuous shaking. "I love your softness, your warmth, your innocence. I love your spirit which is so pure, so light, so untainted…" he said, his voice still quiet and tired. With these words, his eyes landed on my own, and I laid my hand on his exposed cheek.
"I love you, Erik," I said, trying to express my sincerity as best I could with such simple words. "Please, believe me."
At this, he moved away, distancing himself from me as he often did, and he moved his grave stare from my face. "But all these things, all these wonderful features and traits which you hold and express, these are what prove that you cannot be mine…"
"I am yours," I stated, tightly grasping his hands in mine, trying to warm them with my touch.
"No… you are not," he said, his voice simple, and blatant, but at the same time, utterly shallow and lost.
No. I wasn't going to allow this. He would not be taken from me, not when I could save him. In desperation, I quickly brought myself to him, encircling my arms around his neck and pressing my lips against his own. His body trembled beneath mine, but I could feel him slowly come back, as his arms wrapped around my waist.
Closer. Deeper. More.
"Don't let it consume you, Erik. Please," I whispered against his lips, desperation seething through every word.
"I don't despise you."