After the Party
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera...sadly.
"Oh, for heaven's sake," she exclaimed, "The man was so arrogant and pompous he stifled the room with his ego! I couldn't believe the absolute intolerable rubbish that came forth from his mouth. How he 'wouldn't speak of children' because they were 'silly, ignorant fools!' The nerve of some men—really! And he wore those wretched shirts—you know the white ones with blue cuffs and collars—it asserted his intolerance before he even began to speak. It's so contrived it makes me ill!"
"My, my, you don't seem to have an opinion on this, love," Erik teased climbing into the carriage after his wife. "Why don't you tell us how you really feel?"
"Oh, quit mocking me, you fool," she insisted sitting down in a huff, "I saw the disgust on your face as well."
Erik chuckled low in his chest as his wife continued. "And how brutish he is about women! He talks of us as would a caveman. He's positively primeval!"
"You're preaching to the choir, my dear. You needn't argue with me. You know you have nothing less than my unwavering respect."
"Yes, yes, I know that. And I damn well love you for it," she muttered under her breath crossing her arms across her chest.
"Pardon me, what was that? Foul words from the mouth of my little songbird! My ears surely deceive me!" Christine shot him an impish smirk, only to be returned by his devilish grin.
"Don't patronize me like a child," she chided back.
"Ah, for we both know you are far from that. Your youth has left you long ago; that child-like wonder gone from your eyes and soul. Grey hair has set in and before long you shall shrivel into an old woman."
"Ach! Erik, stop it!" He received a light smack on his arm.
"Yes, your days are doubtlessly numbered now." Erik chuckled again, failing to dodge her playful hitting. "You're far too old for silly things like chocolates and jaunts about the park. No, no, you mustn't dance or swim, you may break a hip. Then what would become of you?"
"Chocolates? Which chocolates? You have chocolates, Erik? Are you hiding something from me?"
"My dear, why would I ever hide such an important thing from you as chocolates?" he cried as he drew a dramatic hand to his chest, sounding truly appalled.
"You're use of sarcasm is unparalleled. Where did I find a wit like you?" She nearly laughed, barely suppressing a grin.
"I believe I'm rubbing off on you, darling. Or perhaps it is Giselle's stupid friends which have put you in this uncharacteristic mood. Honestly, I don't know why you dragged me to this event; I don't care that she's your costar, she's nothing more but a pig stuffed into a hoopskirt and corset and that bumbling husband of hers is scarcely better."
"I don't know," Christine sighed, leaning wearily on Erik's inviting shoulder, "I suppose I agreed to go because it would look inconsiderate if I declined. I'm so tired of doing things for form and propriety. Hang society, I want to tell a man if he's being rude when he talks to me."
"Am I to assume you are still hungry?" Erik interjected, attempting to change the subject, "Seeing as you insisted we leave before dinner. Because, as I believe you said so eloquently, you didn't 'want to stay and see how that animal stuffs himself with garbage more deplorable than the endless drabble of speech which falls from his lips.'"
"I suppose I was rather harsh, but he is a brute just the same. And yes, I'm starving."
Smiling to himself at the audacity of his precious wife, Erik leaned forward to call to the driver, "Dominique! Change of plans, we will be dining at home tonight. Without reservations I doubt we will be eating within the hour at any restaurant."
"Noted, monsieur. À L'Opera?"
"Non, not tonight, to the estate."
"Oui, monsieur."
Erik reclined back into his seat enveloping his smiling wife in his embrace.
As the carriage pulled up to the house Christine's head perked up and peered around the curtains, out the small window at the familiar view. "That never gets old," she sighed resting her chin on her hand which was perched on the sill.
"What doesn't, love?"
"Our home," she smiled. He squeezed her tiny gloved hand in his kissing the palm, and helped her down the steps.
"Merci, Dominique. Bon nuit." Erik nodded as he pressed a bill into the driver's hand.
"Bon nuit, monsieur, madame."
The carriage once again lurched away and couple strode up the walk and into the house; their house.
They ended up eating a fine meal that night, Duck a L'Orange, on Erik's insistence. Though it took a time to prepare, it was worth the wait, and Christine would not have to weather through any more societal obligations that would doubtlessly arise in a restaurant. Still, Erik had ensured that no atmospheric experience would be compromised: the table was covered with their best burgundy tablecloth, stylishly folded napkins, candles, china plates, and red wine all enshrouded in a moonlit corner adjacent to the back porch. The duck had been greatly enjoyed judging by the satisfied expressions of the pair and the plates which now lay bereft of everything but a sprig of parsley. Christine held hers absentmindedly twirling its stem between her fingers.
"It's beautiful out," she commented. And it was: the autumn air was blowing in cool and crisp over the hills, the creek could be heard scuttling by over rocks and gullies just out of sight, and the night was alive with the sound of crickets chirping; a nightingale even honored the two with a song.
A slight breeze caught in Christine's hair and she leaned into its comforting touch. Erik gazed at her lovingly across the table, marveling at the woman he was blessed to call his wife. Breathing in the night air, a deep sense of serenity washed over him. Nature surrounded their home channeling a constant feeling of pristine life and renewal about them. It was a constant reminder of the beauty that often enchants the world unnoticed.
"Pardon, love, but would you care for a walk?" he asked, suddenly in need of his wife's close presence.
"Mmm," Christine nodded. He offered her his hand, helping her out of her seat and draped the blanket which had rested in her lap, over her shoulders to keep out the chill. They set out towards the creek with his arm around her and her head against his chest stopping occasionally to embrace or watch the lightning bugs play hide-and-seek slipping in and out of the darkness with their faulty beacons of light. The grass dampened as they drew closer to the water and the greenery grew more densely around them. As they finally reached the water's edge Christine nimbly leapt over the narrow channel and stood back to watch her husband make an Olympic spectacle of it all.
Erik stood twenty feet back to get a running start then took a flying leap over the ten inch stream that trickled below him. Christine laughed with mirth to see her husband behave so lightheartedly. He rejoined her once again on the opposite bank offering her his arm casually as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place before continuing on their way. Within a few minutes they had reached a clearing in the foliage that opened up into a small meadow; with a perfect view of the night sky. The nearest city was far enough away that it didn't obscure their view of the stars and the moon was not so full as to be distracting.
Seeing this as a prime location, Erik lifted the blanket off of Christine's shoulders and laid it out on the ground. Christine turned around to find Erik lying on his back, hands crossed under his head, looking up at the stars. Silently, he motioned for her to sit down beside him; she consented. Wrapping her arms around his waist she turned to look up at the sky. Billions and billions of stars shown down upon the pair.
"You see that?" Erik asked gesturing to a cluster of stars. "That constellation is Ursa Major, also known as the Big Dipper. You see…this star is the end of the handle, and if you follow it along…you come to the ladle."
"Oh yes! I see it, that's wonderful. It's like cloud pictures but with the sky!"
"Yes, I suppose it is," Erik murmured in amusement. "Oh, and do you see those three stars there?"
"Yes."
"That's Orion's belt. And…that's his head, see the sword?"
"My! This is incredible, show me more." Erik continued to trace the invisible lines in space connecting the dots to make pictures, much to the delight and astonishment of his bride.
Suddenly Christine's eyes lit up as she caught a glimpse of a falling star shimmering across the sky.
"Ooh!" she pointed out, "Make a wish, Erik."
"Alright," he humored her, "Mmm…I wish for…hmmhmm, a warm blanket."
"That can be arranged." Christine sat up on her knees untying her cloak and wrapping the both of them in it. She held him tighter and rubbed his arms in attempt to warm him. Erik smiled and thanked her for her generosity. Christine smiled happy to be near him.
"Oh, there's another," Erik gestured, "Your turn."
"Um…I wish for…uh…another shooting star," she decided, unable to think of something she really wanted.
"Can you do that?"
"I don't know. I hadn't thought about it. Perhaps it's an unwritten rule. Oh, heavens now the sky shall explode!"
"I fear you may have created a rift in the universe, my dear. You have torn a hole in the space-time continuum. Stars will never fall again!"
"Oh, no! Oh I wish I had never wished that." Just at that moment another star streamed past, "Thank goodness," she cried.
"Would you like to try again? Let's wish for something simpler this time."
"Agreed. Hmm…I know! I wish you'd quit hiding the chocolates!" she announced in triumph.
"Ahaha…alright, you win," he relented, reaching into his pocket. "Wish granted, love." Erik handed over a small bundle of Belgian chocolates wrapped in twine.
"Ooh, Erik! I knew it; I knew you were hiding them. I could sense it."
Erik laughed as she hastily untied the package.
"Did I not tell you I new you were hiding them?"
"That you did, darling. Let it be known that chocolates can never be hidden from my Christine!"
"I knew it…mmm…these are delicious, Erik. Thank you. Would you like to try?"
"No, no, those are yours, dear. I couldn't pos—" his sentence was interrupted by Christine who popped one of the truffles into his mouth.
"Mmm…alrigh'," he managed with his mouth full of the sweet, "Jus' one then." Christine laughed taking another for herself and giving another to him until the bag's contents was depleted.
"My goodness, we polished those off in no time," Erik commented.
"Mmm, and just in the nick of time too, I think its starting to rain."
"So, it is. Shall we head back, soon?" he asked, unable to hide mild disappointment.
"Not quite yet. I've always loved the rain. I should love to sit in it for a time."
"As you wish," he whispered, pulling her closer to him. The pair sat in the light shower, letting the mild drops patter against their skin and clothes listening to the rhythmic mist fall around them.
"Not many people like the rain," Christine mused, "but I always have. It brings greenery and life to nature. And the sound of water, in any form, has to be the most beautiful sound in the world."
"Couldn't agree more."
They watched and listened a few minutes longer but departed on Erik's orders when he noticed that she had begun to shiver. Walking quietly in companionably silence, each lost in thoughts of the other, they headed back to the house to dry off.
Upon arriving, Erik scooped her up and carried her to the hearth. Placing her on the rug, he stooped to light a fire. Once the blaze was crackling he turned to Christine again:
"Wait here, I'll get you some blankets and a towel."
Christine, nodded, her teeth chattering. Within moments she saw a multitude of blankets being flung over the railing of the second floor and cascading down only to land in a heap beside her.
"Th-thank you, d-dear," she managed, calling up to him.
"Of course!" he hollered back, "I'm going to put on some tea for you, love, I shall return shortly.
Erik entered the kitchen and reached for a pot filling it and setting it on the stove. He peered through countless shelves before deciding on a soothing peppermint and chamomile blend. By the time the water had come to a boil and the tea had been steeped, he wandered back into the living room to find his bride on the blankets making adorable humming noises in her sleep.
Laughing quietly to himself, he settled down next to his wife and stroked her chocolate curls. He finished off his tea and set hers near the fire to keep it warm. Reaching for another blanket to make himself comfortable, he then leaned over to kiss her forehead.
"Goodnight Christine," he whispered into her ear.
"Goodnight, my love," she mumbled back.