A/N: This was a prompt given to me by a tumblr friend. Just E/C and Halloween. So enjoy a little fluff. Reviews are always encouraging to the writer if you liked it and would like more!
It was pretty lonely in the dormitories on this particular evening. Christine had the whole room, usually occupied by 12 other young women, all to herself. She was splayed out on her bed, feet in the air but crossed at the ankles, flipping through one of her favorite books. A collection of haunted tales from America. Her Father had instilled a love for fanciful stories and this author was particularly good at satiating her thirst for the macabre! She felt it appropriate for tonight.
It was Halloween, after all.
Most of the chorus girls were out fraternizing with some of their *exclusive* patrons, or trying to become mistresses to others. A wonderful night to dress up for terror or for fright or to just be someone that you're not. But alas, she didn't have a costume. Nor the particular inclination to go out with them. Too much too quickly, as often as the case on holidays. Things would escalate so quickly. Christine shook her head inwardly as she thought of how many taverns some of the other chorus girls were entering and pretending to be seductive witches. She tried it last year and ended up drinking far too much. If it hadn't been for Meg to come and pull her away from that dreadfully lecherous baker… Ugh… Just thinking about it made Christine's flesh crawl. And then when she emptied her stomach of its contents only minutes after? Definitely not something she wanted to repeat.
Besides, she smiled inwardly at the thought, she had her Angel of Music. And he was very strict.
"Christine…. Christine….." As if he were reading her thoughts, the voice echoed in her head. "Chrissstiiiiine…."
She sat up immediately her ears pricked up at the sound of that silken voice.
"Angel?" Her eyes scanned the room, trying to find him, for once.
"Chrisssstiiiiiinee…" His voice was fading away and she scrambled to her feet to try and follow it. It was Halloween, maybe the bridge between this world and the next was indeed lessened, and she could finally see her Angel!
Quietly, she crept through the corridors, straining to hear the whispering voice.
A guilty pang struck her heart as she scolded herself. She should be concerned about seeing her parents, or at least her Father… but… the Angel…
She mutely made her way to the tiny little Chapel that she herself frequently haunted. This was the area that their music lessons often were held, so it would make sense to try to summon her Angel to her.
Christine hurriedly lit some of the candles of the tiny altar of the Chapel. Even a few grinning Jack O'Lanterns had found their way inside to ward off the evil spirits. She had read enough books and heard enough stories about magic to know that a warm, guiding light was important for it. She tucked her legs underneath her body and sat in quiet reverence, head bowed, wishing and praying that she would see her Angel tonight.
A few moments of crushing silence.
She drew a sharp, shaky breath, daring herself to break the oppressive stillness. "Angel? Are you there?"
Silence.
"I pray because it's Halloween that perhaps…."
"Perhaps what, my dear?"
Instantly a smile emerged on her face as his smooth voice responded to her. "That perhaps you would come to me." She lifted her head and looked around the Chapel, hoping to see a glimpse of him. "Halloween is when the dead walk among us, so-"
Erik tensed up from the description. She couldn't have possibly known that he had been described as a corpse his entire existence, but the thought still enraged him.
"The DEAD am I?" His anger was evident. The walls seemed to shake with his rage.
"The dead or creatures of the night! Angels, demons, ghosts and the like!" Christine reasoned with him, though shaking inwardly. She mustn't be afraid. This was her Angel.
Erik clenched his fists a few times to quell his rage. He did always fancy himself a creature of the night anyway. He stood on top of his perch in the rafters, gazing down at Christine.
"This is true. So what, fair child, keeps you from enjoying the festivities?" Erik was already planning on venturing forth into the city well past midnight, to scare the drunken fools who dared to stay out that late. It was a rather enjoyable past time for him.
"Oh!" Christine hadn't expected to be asked such a thing. "I prefer to stay inside tonight. I bought this new book, a collections of stories from one Edgar Al-"
"-len Poe," Erik finished along with her.
"So you know of him! I didn't know Angels liked to read stories. Particularly American ones."
…. Was she teasing him? Erik looked down at Christine incredulously.
"I am more than what I may seem," he said simply. "But yes. I am rather fond of his writing style. The Mask of the Red Death: A Fantasy is a particular favorite of mine."
"Oh mine, too! But I much prefer his poems."
Erik had seated himself down on the rafters, feeling like he was back in Persia. Being a brash young man, reclining in whatever piece of architecture he fancied, without a single care. And here they were. He and his Christine. Alone. Having an actual conversation.
"His poetry is rather mundane and droll," he scoffed. And immediately regretted it. Christine's shoulders slumped ever-so slightly. Damn! Flirting was definitely not something he had mastered.
"Well, I disagree…" Christine murmured quietly.
They sat in awkward silence for a beat.
"…..Enlighten me, then," coerced Erik, his voice flowing like honey.
Christine closed her eyes to enjoy the sound. It filled her with confidence again, something she was sorely lacking from time to time. "For instance… his poem Romance… The way he describes it as a bird, it makes me feel like…"
Erik had moved silently from his relaxed position from above to down into the shadows of the chapel. A single candle extinguished as the flame consumed the rest of the wick.
"… like love is something so delicate, almost fleeting, but yet," she looked up towards the ceiling as Erik, without thinking, tried to reach out to her, yearning to embrace her and feeling her compassion for the work, " so freeing. Being able to soar." She wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes, yearning her Angel's arms were the ones holding her.
Little did she know, he ached for the same thing.
"But my favorite," she breathed, "is Annabel Lee. To love so deeply… To assume the Angels are jealous so they can separate true love… And then he decides to spend the rest of his days by her side?" Erik swallowed hard. "It breaks my heart with how tender it is." Erik coiled his fingers back to himself and slithered back into the deepening shadows. Candles slowly burned themselves out, one by one.
"Do you think anyone can love so deeply, Angel?"
"Yes," he breathed, and in his honesty, momentarily forgetting to throw his voice.
Christine straightened her posture, hearing her Angel of Music right behind her. Her breath quickened.
"What do you pray for, child?" Erik murmured, encroaching closer to Christine as the shadows grew longer, hiding him still.
The sweet smell of smoke perfumed them as more candles flickered out on their own accord. Christine closed her eyes to the impending darkness.
"I pray…" a heavy breath, Erik was right behind her. His breath against her exposed neck. "I wish… for a ki-"
"CHRISTINE! There you are!" Meg joyfully bounded in, her feet mis-stepping every few she took.
"MEG!" Christine exhaled in a gasp. She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath, waiting for something to happen. The presence that she had felt was no longer there.
"Why is it so dark?" Her breath was muddied with wine and she swayed slightly as she stood before her friend. "Almost all the candles are burned out!"
"Just…. a little Halloween fun, I suppose," she laughed lightly with a shrug.
"Oh GOOD! Natalia has a planchette and we've been communing with the dead all night! It's WONDERFUL fun! Maybe we can ask the Opera Ghost to be nicer to us! Would you like to talk to him? It would be dreadfully fun!" Meg's speech always seemed to be three times faster when she drank.
"Yes… dreadfully fun," Christine agreed with a smile and rose up from her seat. She linked arms with Meg to steady her tipsy friend.
"Have you ever played?" Meg crowed a little too loudly. "All you have to do is take a board and then-" their voices faded down the corridor and away from the Chapel.
Erik was pressed against the walls the entire time, trying to make himself melt in with the shadows. The BLASTED ballet brat! If she hadn't interrupted!
Well. The Opera Ghost better make himself known to those girls or else they wouldn't have a very happy Halloween.
With an elegant flourish of his cloak, he disappeared into one of the walls to hunt his squealish prey.