A/N: Hiya,
got something a little different here for everyone. This story takes place during the months between the chandelier falling and the masquerade ball. Instead of sticking around though, Christine and Raoul both fled that night to elope and escape the city, leaving Erik heartbroken and Meg devastated at the sudden loss of her friend. This fic was originally going to be a few chapters, but I'm strangely content with where it ends at the moment. So as of now, I don't think I will be adding anything else but if you really want to read more, let me know!
And thank you to everyone behind the scenes who helped me bring this together, you're all great!
She was warm. She was so warm and inviting that she made his icy skin feel almost normal as he held her against him. Her quiet breathing tickled the crook of his neck as she dozed. Still coming down from his own intoxicating release, Erik let his fingertips gently drift across her bare back. When his knuckle brushed against a strand of her soft curls he brought his hand up to tangle into her hair. She rewarded him with a soft moan as he kneaded his fingers through the blonde strands on her head.
Her room was dark, as it always was when he joined her for a night time visit, with only a single gas lamp shining dimly from across the room. She shifted in her sleep, and her forehead rested against the smooth side of his face. Timidly, Erik tipped his chin down just enough to glance at her sleeping face.
Even in the dark room, Meg Giry's beauty still shined bright. He wanted to close his eyes and join her through the rest of the night, but his gut twisted anxiously at the very thought. He knew he could not stay. Reluctantly, he untangled his weary body from Meg's welcoming one and propped himself up onto his elbows. He always hated this part, leaving.
He hated the way her piercing green eyes would watch him with an unmistakable longing as he dressed. Or the way her soft, rosy lips would just barely push out into an alluring pout as he rejected her invitation to stay a little longer. She always asked him, and occasionally she begged, but he always refused. He could never allow himself to stay, to grow closer to her in an even more intimate way.
He was always filled with a deep sense of shame after he left, and he would vow that their days of clawing at each other with desperate, starved hands were through- but he always found himself crawling back to her willing body each time she invited him. He couldn't stay, but he could not refuse her, not when his loneliness threatened to smother him each day.
For years he had silenced the dark thoughts in his head with various narcotics, and even dangerous amounts of alcohol when the urge to do something terrible became too strong. It was recently, though, that he discovered a new way to cope with the ever present darkness in his heart and mind. The first time had been an accident in all honesty, and while it wasn't an act he regretted per se, he did find the memory of how absolutely emotion ridden and weepy he had been embarrassing.
With a sigh, Erik rolled closer to the edge of the bed and reached for the crumpled shirt on the floor. He felt Meg begin to stir beside him and threw the shirt over his head before she could see. She had seen him of course, many times, but he still preferred to not flaunt the many scars across his form when possible. Spotting his discarded trousers just out of reach, Erik quickly swung his legs out of the bed and grasped the material to him before hiking the trousers on.
He sat back down on the bed and started to button the front of his shirt. A warm hand on his shoulder made him freeze, and he inhaled sharply as he felt Meg's bare form press against his back with only a thin bed sheet separating her from him. Her lean thighs came to rest on either side of his waist as her other hand began to flutter up his spine.
"You're welcome to stay if you'd like," she murmured beside his ear. His entire body tensed as her hands began to roam, leaving his skin prickling wherever they went. "Surely it's better than going out into the cold?"
His very core ached for him to agree, to give in to her hushed invitation. A few more hours wouldn't be too terrible, he reasoned. He'd still have time to make a quick journey home before the sun came up. Without him noticing, his hand shakily trailed up to grasp one of her small ones. The feeling of her touching him, eagerly touching him, always lulled him into what he could only describe as a trance. He swayed slightly as she began to rise up behind him, resting her other hand on his shoulder for support.
Erik leaned his head back against her and shut his eyes. The hand on his shoulder glided to his neck and nearer to the mask on the right side of his face. Immediately, the painful memory of another small hand that once reached for his mask came to mind. His heart seized with a sharp twist and he ripped himself out of her grasp.
He stood beside the bed with his back to her and his hands at his side kneading the soft materials of his trousers. Behind him, Meg groaned before throwing herself back against the plush pillows. He finished securing the last few buttons on his shirt and quickly cut Meg off with a sharp wave of his hand when she drew in a breath to speak.
"Don't."
His shoes were nowhere to be found, and he grew increasingly frustrated as he hastily searched the disorganized room. He felt Meg's eyes on him but kept his own downcast to avoid the sight of those green eyes.
"Meg, have you seen-"
He stopped talking the moment he flicked his attention up to look at her. She sat silently with her back up against the headboard, and the thin sheet that was modestly pulled up against her bare form now discarded. She watched him with a knowing smirk as he took in the beauty that was her naked body. She lifted her arms above her head in a cat like stretch before gathering her hair up to tie it out of her face. "Have you checked under the bed?"
Her tone, both bored and hostile, made him flinch. Tearing his eyes away from her enchanting body, Erik dropped to his knees beside the bed and thrust his arm underneath. Blindly, he swiped his hand here and there until he felt the worn leather of his shoes.
"She's not coming back, you know."
He ignored her, instead focusing on shakily getting his shoes on. He didn't need to ask who she was, he knew all too well who Meg alluded to.
"Did you hear me?"
He raised to his full height as he snapped, "And what is your point, exactly?"
"My point is, any time now you can stop being bitter," she shot back. "She's gone. She's married, happily I might add, and you're here- pining like a sick puppy after someone who does not love you. Honestly, do you truly believe she thinks about you?"
Silence encased them as they glared into each other's eyes. His throat stung and he scoffed, his thin lips raising into a taut smile.
"I wonder how it must feel, Marguerite, to scold someone for agonizing over unrequited love, when you yourself carry the exact same burden."
He let his biting words hang between them for a moment before turning on his heel and leaving. He closed the door behind him with a hard slam, but winced when he heard some sort of heavy object crash into the door from within.
Thankfully, Madame Giry was far from Paris visiting a sick Aunt, and Erik was relieved he did not have to worry about bumping into a very angry mother while leaving her daughter's room in the middle of the night. With a huff, Erik left the Giry's flat before the next object Meg threw struck him.
He brought the dark hood over his head as he stepped out into the cold night. Already, he deeply regretted his harsh words. His normal journey home was now even more shameful, making him walk with a lethargic like gait. He promised to apologize at some point, perhaps in the morning with a fresh pastry and-
He put a stop to his thoughts before they could go any further. He reminded himself that he couldn't allow his wretched self to grow any closer to her, no matter how much she wished him to. They had agreed, after that first night, to keep their relationship on a strictly physical basis only. Something he still confirmed with her before letting his desire take over each time.
He did not love Meg Giry, though he did care for her in some ways. And he knew that he could not lead her heart on with gifts and apologies. He wondered if their arrangement should continue on at all, as he always did on his journey home. He vowed to end their arrangement after tonight, and carried on home with a much bleaker attitude.