Okay, so I've decided to start yet another story. I hope ya'll like this. It's based on the Phantom of the Opera movie that just came out on DVD. If you haven't seen it, I highly reccomend watching it, because it's great. Anyway, like I said, it's based on Phantom. It might just be a one-shot, or it might be a whole story. That depends on how many reviews I get for it. So, if you like it, read and review. Oh, by the way, it's SM/Phantom/DBZ multi cross-over and it's Sere/Trunks. If you don't like, please don't flame, although you can. So, on with the story.
Him
Those eyes; those haunting icy blue eyes. T hey were the bane of my nightmares, yet the light of my soul, my heart.
Eyes can be expressive; I just wish I would have listened when they told me. Eyes are the windows to the soul, or the black void where once a soul resided, but had long since departed.
In his case, it was the later. He was souless, uncaring, murderous, lustful, a cheat. And yet, out of pity, I stayed. I do not know why; I do now know why these feelings wrapped around my heart like a strong vine; I do not know why I was feeling these things, because he certainly wasn't.
Yet, his eyes held a different look; one that could both adore or frighten; something that should not be underestimated, or looked over.
He had a hard life, true, but I am still convinced I stayed out of pity, a foundation which sould never be built upon; of which the fundamentals of a relationship should never be predicated upon.
However, I was a fool. I fell for his charm, his wit, and most importantly, his music.
I am the first one to admit that I am a lover of the arts, especially the musical arts. My mother passed it on to me, and now I am in a fruitless, meaningless relationship (or, in other words, marraige, but I don't like to swear.) with the man I pittied.
My name, Serenity Daae, my mother being the late Christine Daae.
Hers was a story worth telling; full of love and passion; heart break and misery.
Mine, I laugh bitterly at myself, mine is nothing short of pitiful; the story of a hopeless sixteen yearl old girl, falling for the wrong kind of man, if indeed you might call him that.
His name, Trunks de Chavier, was an offspring of the worst sort. His father was none other than the legendary Opera Ghost, or the Phantom of the Opera himself.
In cunning and cleverness, Trunks changed his last name, so as not to be too conspicuous amongst the throngs of people he met every day.
At this very moment we were practicing our new opera piece. The only reason it was ours is because he insisted that I be the leading lady.
"...don't say good-bye..." I sand in my soprano voice. The notes he had me sing were ridiculously hard to sing, but I hit them, nevertheless, trying to please him.
He stopped playing the piano and looked up at me through those cold, dark eyes. "You're preoccupied," he stated, his deep voice echoing throughout the basement of the opera house we were staying at.
"And what makes you say that?" I asked, looking at him with an equally cold glare. Any girl would want him, why did he choose me? Why did I have to go through this eternal torment?
Unlike his father, his face was not hid in a mask. No, he had a rather striking face, fully formed and rather dashing. However, he still wore the same dark clothing his father had.
He stood up from his seat and walked over to where I was standing. "Because you're not singing to your normal perfection," he said, touching my elbow.
His touch made my skin crawl, at the same time sending a little tremor throughout the rest of me. "Perhaps I'm getting a cold," I replied, taking my elbow from him. I did not like the way he made me feel.
"I don't think so," he replied coolly, withdrawing his hand from my elbow. "Perhaps your mind is elsewhere."
I had to fight to keep my face impassive. How he knew these things, I'll never know. However, he was right. My mind was on my beloved Endymion. "And why would you think that?" I asked, forcing myself to stare at those cold eyes straight on.
"Because it is only on days when you're thinking of him that you withdraw yourself from the music...from me." he replied, turning and sitting back at the piano. "Should we try again?"
"I am getting quite tired," I replied, rubbing my throat. Those notes were really starting to get to me. Then I narrowed my eyes. "Maybe you should just get your lovely Ms. Aino to sing for you." I spat.
His hands went crashing down on the keys he was so delicately playing not a second ago. "I have told you not to mention her name," he replied in quite anger.
I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy this. It was the only reaction I could get out of him, whether bad or good, and I wasn't ready to stop yet. "Why, though? What did she do to you? It must have been horrible, however, because I can't even seem to do something to you to make you want me to leave."
He turned sharply and glared with such venom that I had to suppress a shudder. Then he stood abruptly and walked swiftly over to me and took me by the shoulders. "Do you really want to know?" he snapped. I looked up at him innocently. "Do you really want to know that she is the reason I have been confined to the basement of many different opera houses? That she is the reason I live in exile?" he shook me a little. Then, with a sigh, let his hands drop slowly, to come and rest on my waist. "I never want you to leave my side." he said quietly, one of his hands coming and sweeping my hair back behind my ear. It was days like this that I wish I could resist all of this. "I love you."
Those words were what got me every time. Pretty soon our lips were brushing, and he pulled me into a deep kiss that seemed to last for eternity. When we broke apart, he looked at me, a spark of emotion coming into his lifeless eyes. "Now, shall we continue?" he said.
"Y-yes," I stuttered, as always happened after something like this happened. The only problem is, by the end of everything, I never knew what we were continuing.
"And we'll have no more mention of this Ms. Aino?" he asked, looking into my eyes, which were slowly clouding over. I shook my head numbly. "Good."
The rest of the rehearsal went as planned. No more angry outbursts from me, and no more snide remarks from him.
Later that night, I went and got on my night gown and slid into bed, wondering slightly if he would join me. Usually he spent his nights working on this opera, or that. So, I walked out to where he was, tying the robe string around my waist. "Are you coming?" I asked.
I could tell that smirk in the dark anywhere. "Are you tempting me?" he asked slyly.
"No," I replied, rolling my eyes and shaking my head. "It's just... It's cold tonight." and to prove my point I gave a little shudder.
He looked slightly disappointed. "Is that the only time you want me in there with you, when you're cold?" he asked, turning around on his piano bench seat.
"No," I replied, a slight blush creeping up my cheeks. "I just thought it would be nice if we cuddled for a little while, before you continue your work."
He rolled his eyes. "I don't know why you women need so much affection all the time," he said. Then, when he noticed the pout on my face and slowly turning and walking away he shook his head. "Okay, okay. I'm coming."
As we lay there, his finger tips moving up and down my arm, sending tickling sensations everywhere, I frowned. "Trunks?" I said quietly.
The motions stopped for a minute, then continued. "Yes," he replied, and I could sense he was smiling.
"I'm sorry about what I said earlier, about... her." I mumbled. "I didn't mean it. I guess I was just... I was starting to feel slightly inferior, I guess."
Once again, the tickling motions stopped. He propped his head on his hand and looked at me with a frown. "Inferior? Why?"
"Because," I replied, turning over and looking him straight in the eye. "I was just thinking how good of a singer she is..." I trailed off, not being able to help a small curling at the side of my lips as I reached for a pillow that was behind me. "I guess I just got angry with myself for not being able to sing as much as she does in one day."
He looked at me for a minute, then grinned as with both sat up and hit each other upside the head with the pillows we both were holding. Then he took mine away from me and pulled me closer to him, so I was sitting on his lap. "Now that we have done what you want, I think it is time we do what I want." he said, kissing me.
I woke up a little disoriented. I knew where I was, but I still felt a little weird. I sat up, a dull throbbing in my head. The light from one of the candles shoe through into the room and I shut my eyes closed. It had been so long since I had been out in full light. The last time was when I went to get some groceries from the market.
Then I remembered what had gone on during the night. I cursed myself for being such a dolt. I had him where I wanted him, far away from me, and then I had to go and get stupid all of a sudden.
I heard the strains of music coming from the other room. I got up, tied my robe tightly around my night gown, and went to see what was going on.
I had to blink several times to get the light of the candles out of my eyes. "Why is it so bright?" I asked, rubbing my throbbing eyes.
"So, you are awake, then?" he said, not looking up from his piano. It figures that he would be his cranky self again after that.
I nodded. "Yes," I replied. "Is there anything that you need?"
"No," was all he said, as he continued playing his music.
I went and sat beside him on the piano bench, watching his finger tips hitting the keys so gracefully. It always made me wonder how such a hideous person could play such beautiful music. Then I mentally cursed at myself again. He couldn't be so hideous, if I could be so easily manipulated into doing something that I did not want to do. The word for that would be genius, not hideous.
"Did you sleep at all?" I asked, watching the keys get pressed down. It was always such a wonderful thing to watch that sometimes I would get so caught in watching him play that I would tune everything else out.
"A little," he replied. Then he stopped. Then he turned to me, his cold eyes boring into mine. It sent an invisible shiver up and down my spine, as if an ice storm had suddenly filled the room and I was standing in the middle of it with no clothing on.
I couldn't look at that gaze for too long. It was intense, something that I was not used to, especially out of him. "Are you sure you don't need anything?" I asked.
His eyes dropped to my hands. He picked up my left and started caressing the ring that was on my ring finger. It was a fine piece of jewelry. It was silver and had a sapphire heart cut out in the middle of it, surrounded by diamonds. It looked like mother's, but mother's was a flower shape. "How long have you been wearing this?" he suddenly asked, making me jump.
"Almost two years," I replied, also looking at the ring. It should not have meant as much to me as it did, considering the person who gave it to me. "In June..."
He looked back up at me, his eyes sparkling with something other than ice, which was a nice change, although I must admit that it frightened me slightly. "Two years..." he trailed off. "I cannot believe it's been that long. Where has the time gone?"
I could not explain the feeling that exploded through me just then. It was affectionate, warm. I cannot explain it, even if I had tried. I reached out and touched his cheek. The feeling that was over coming me was quite powerful. I uttered the words that I had not even dreamed of saying since that night when we said those two words, "I do,". "I love you," and what scared me most about it is that I meant it. Every syllable, every bit of it, I meant.
He smiled a little, then turned back to the piano and started playing. After a minute of the piano being the only sounds in the room he started talking. What he said surprised me to the very deepest depths of the earth. "This place seems quiet," he said, looking around, his hands still flying across the piano. "Almost too quiet. And I know just the thing to make it just a little more loud."
He stopped playing and leaned over and kissed me, with an amount of passion I had no idea existed in him. Then he leaned back and looked me straight in the eye. "What do you say, do you think we need a few rug-rats running around this place?"
I looked at him strangely, then nodded numbly. What he was suggesting was something I never thought he would say, not even in my wildest dreams.
Before I came to be here, I always wanted to be a mother. My own mother was a great example of what a mother should be; she taught me how to love others, how to respect others, and even how to help others who were in need. She was a loving and kind person, who taught me everything I had need to know.
When I was with Endymion, we would talk of marriage and children frequently every visit. I wanted six, and he wanted twelve. We would laugh about it, and he would settle on six; if, that is, there wasn't a 'surprise'.
Now I was sitting here, looking at the man I had loathed, whom I had pitied, and he was suggesting that we have children?
He grinned at my look. It must have been funny, although I did not know. I was still in a severe state of shock. Then he got up, and picked me up.
And that was that, I guess. Although, I never knew the meaning of real, true, passionate love, until that night. It was something that could not be explained; not that I want to. It would cheapen it, and this is not a story to be cheapened.
Okay, so, how'd ya'll like that? I hope you did. It was my first attempt at an angst type story, so I hope you like it. It may turn into a story, it may not. I just depends on how you review. So, R&R, and, if you feel you must, flame. Tell me what you think. :D /tweetypie987