She stood in the drawing room in front of the fire, staring down at the locket held tenderly in her hand. Erik had left her alone in his house for a few hours; he had gone 'out shopping'. She sighed as she ran her finger lightly down the small picture of Raoul she held. She could never believe that she would never see him again…yet Erik had said she was to remain with him, underground, forever. She quietly cried, the tears running down her cheeks reminders of that…forever. It had only been a fortnight or so of those horrid tears which she dared not show when Erik was near; for she still kept hope, albeit feeble, that Erik might change his mind and allow her to leave. He had gone mad with love; he frightened her so.
She heard a door open and close behind her and felt Erik's presence in the room; felt his yellow eyes watching her from behind. She closed her eyes like a child afraid of the dark as she heard him coming closer… But she turned quickly and they snapped open as she realized that he was getting quite close to her now. She hid the locket behind her back, praying he had not seen it.
As he approached slowly, he gazed sadly, longingly down at her, until he was standing directly in front of her. He broke the tension, after a few moments, as he hesitantly reached a finger out and tilted her chin up towards his masked face. She was reluctant to look at him, but at least she would not have to look at that terrible death's head again…Slowly she let her eyes lift up to his.
His firey yellow eyes were shaking with barely restrained emotion, with a strange mixture of hope and sadness...and love. After a moment, he reached his other hand out to her and said, in an almost painfully controlled voice, "Christine…" he said the word like it was sacred, like he was fearful the heavens would tear him asunder should he utter it without permission; his eyes were fixed on hers, commanding, yet begging for mercy, afraid... "Give me the locket."
"Give you what, monsieur?" she replied, but it was a pitiful façade of courage, for her were eyes too were filled with fear.
He visibly became more rigid, angrier, yet even more fearful, in a way. She still clutched the locket in her hand, holding it behind her back.
He sighed. "Hand it to me." He said more roughly. At her silence, he grabbed her wrist and quickly pulled the heart shaped trinket out of her reach. Looking quickly down at it, he saw the picture of her handsome vicomte, with his golden hair and his bright blue eyes… Restraining himself, he looked back at Christine, trying to hide his sadness, his disappointment, his rage. Until Christine suddenly became bolder "He will come for me! He will rescue me from you, monster!" she yelled in his face.
His eyes glowed and he grasped her wrists, pinned her against the wall. She beat at his chest, but he was unaffected by her weak struggle against him. "I do not believe you quite understand the situation you are in here, mademoiselle…You are mine, mine, and will never belong to anybody else, least of all you precious little vicomte! I love you, love you more than you could possibly imagine, but I could snap your neck easier than a twig, should I ever find the need!" he hissed violently in her face.
Her face was covered in tears, her eyes full of fear, and he soon felt a the painful jolts of guilt, cursing himself for letting that old habit of rage escape enough to threaten her. Threaten her! He knew he could never hurt her, and hoped she understood that he did love her more than either of them could ever dream. He was about to let her go when her eyes became defiant, staring up into his, those blue orbs glistening with tears, shaking with this new feeling of hate.
"Then do it." She challenged. His eyes flashed, still glowing; his breathing was hard. Slowly, however, you could see his eyes change from anger to love to hopelessness. He threw her to the ground with a loud moan, and turned away quickly, his hand covering his eyes, which were now filled with tears. Christine cowered, huddled in the corner where he had dropped her, amazed at her own courage, afraid of what the cost would be… She soon felt guilt, pity for this man that loved her so, yet she could never love in return. He was so unpredictable, so mysterious, so terrifying!
A tense moment dragged on for eternities, until Erik finally sighed and spoke softly, so softly the girl behind him could barely hear.
"Christine… I'm sorry. Go back to your room."
She rose slowly, her eyes fixed on his back. She stood for a moment in confusion.
"Christine, go to your room!" he said louder, but with his voice quivering as though he were crying.
She obeyed silently, and, watching from behind the safety of the crack in her slightly opened door, saw Erik, that man, that monster, that angel…weep.