Another Tumblr Prompt: "A kiss...as a lie." Very dark, very angsty. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Reviews are always welcome and much appreciated!
They met at the Rue Scribe entrance. She moved on silent feet through the darkness, keeping a sharp eye for the Master of Shadows himself. There had been many occasions as she waited here that he seemed to take form out of the blackness of night, a true personification of the Spector many believed him to be within the Opera's walls. There was a time when she had believed those things too and even now, knowing the truth for as long as she has, there were moments when his sudden appearance caused her racing heart to still for a moment- just a moment- before she rememberd herself again.
But he would not startle her tonight.
Tonight, she would be ready. Tonight she would do what she must.
He arrived seconds later, morphing to his impressive height from the shadows of the corridors below. A brief nod of greeting was all she was granted before he spoke without preamble. "You've come."
"As I have every night," she returned, words edged in steel. "As you demanded of me."
"As you promised," he countered, lips tilting down into a frown that was only visible with a slight tilt of his head in her direction. "And I know how faithful you are to your word."
She swallowed thickly, choosing her words with deliberate care. "And as I have been faithful to my vow, so you will be to yours." Raising her eyes to the mask, she dared, "It has been six months, Erik."
"And your commitment was twelve," he replied, brusquely. "one hours for one night per week for one year." Eyes flaring to life, he growled, "Time still remains."
"You cannot place a time limit on love, Erik," she admonished, tone softening slightly. "However much you wish it to be so."
Releasing a sigh, he stepped forward slightly, extending a hand to her, eyes dimming when she flinched slightly away from him. "Oh, Christine..." Collecting himself, he moved back to his previous position, his hand falling limply at his sides. "What would you care to discuss tonight?"
Shoulders lifted into a shrug as Christine turned away from him. "What of your latest composition? Have you managed to add to the second movement?"
"It is...progressing," he conceded, contenting himself to watch her pace about. "But music can be a fickle mistress and if the muse does not wish to engage..." One lanky shoulder lifted an a half-shrug, still elegant in its movements. "Well, I suppose there is little that can be done, isn't there?"
Christine gave a gentle hum in agreement before dropping her shoulders with a resolute sigh. "Erik, do you love me?"
He spun around, eyes wide at her abrupt question. "What the devil do you mean? Of course I do." Softer then ,"I always have."
"Then let me go. Please."
He turned away. "I already have once."
"Yes, you did. By striking our bargain, you spared Raoul's life and I am grateful for that-"
He rounded on her. "Never speak of him in my presence."
"Release me and you shall never hear his name again."
"And if I release you now, I shall never see you again. You are a fine actress my dear, but the rules are still mine. As are you," A hand flicked carelessly in the air. "At least for the next six months."
Knowing there would be no further reasoning with him and having exhausted all of her words, Christine sank helplessly to the ground. Tears burned behind her eyes but she stifled them with a shaky exhale.
She would not let him see her cry. She refused to give him the satisfaction.
Across from her, Erik also exhaled, moving to her side a moment later. "Forgive me, Christine," he whispered. "I misplaced myself a moment ago." Extending a hand, he helped her to her feet and when she did not pull away, retained his delicate hold on her palm.
Tentatively, he curled his long fingers around hers, one at a time, keeping his eyes trained on her face to gauge her reaction. "I wonder if you shall ever care for me," he mused aloud, words sitting just above a whisper.
Despite herself, a ghost of a smile drew the corners of her mouth upward as she confessed, "Oh, Erik... Of course I care for you." Tightening her fingers briefly around his, she confessed. "You gave me your music with wings to fly. How could I not?"
"Oh, my dear," Lifting her fingers to his lips, he pressed trembling kisses to her knuckles, one by one. "You are my music. My muse. My everything."
"Erik, I-"
"Why, Christine?" His words were a broken whisper. "Why can't you love me as I love you? Why won't you?"
Unable to bear his pleas a moment longer, she wrenched him forward by the hand he held and crashed her lips to his. He remained stock-still against her, shocked into submission by her brazen assault. His lips were cold and stiff beneath her own, as if she were kissing Death himself, and idl she wondered if her impetuous decision had made her predicament better or worse.
When she pulled away a moment later, golden eyes full of unshed tears stared back at her. "Christine..."
"I do love you, Erik," she admitted softly, heart breaking at the hope that lit his features at her words.
"Truly?" he whispered, though his voice still held an ounce of skepticism. "Do not lie to me, Christine. I could not bear any more of you half truths."
Erik forgive me.Her answer was another kiss, eager and full. Her lips plied gently at his until began to respond, coming alive under her mouth. One hand encircled her waist as the other gently cupped her jaw, angling her lips to slot further into his.
God forgive me. One of her hands rested against his cheek, fingers curled into his neck to anchor her hold. She opened to him, deepening the kiss, feeling the languid slide of his tongue, the gentle caress of his fingers. She allowed her other hand to slide down his chest, drawing a ragged breath as she reached under her skirts, then up to his temple.
She pulled him closer with the hand at his neck, fitting her body into the length of his, breaths heavy and brief between teeth clanking together and the rough catching of lips on lips. He was the very embodiment of destruction and she knew he would never let her go. With this single kiss, she had sealed her fate and her future, the requiem echoing deep in her senses
Dies Ire, Dies illa
I'm sorry, Erik.
"Amen" she whispered against his lips and then, with a single flick of her finger, emptied the revolver she held against his skull, securing her freedom in a baptism of blood.