His feather pen slipped into the small jar of ink, then returned to the faded paper to once again scrawl in
elegant handwriting the matched notes of his newest creation. By the faded candle light he worked for hours, his hands -something he had no control over- flitted over the smooth ivory keys in front of him. While outside the sun slowly drifted into the sky, in his underground labyrinth of solitude, his eyelids slowly sank. At the peak of day he finally retired to his plush bed. Though full and thick with crushed velvet and wolf furs, it was cold and empty. He sat his porcelain skin on his nightstand, his light fingers trailing across it with a longing he dared not to hide. His fingers slipped away as is eyes closed. His lips parted and a sound, deep and lush escaped. The word, nothing but a mundane name, the beauty of his voice, what gave that sound any purpose at all, was the meaning behind it.
"Erik,"
In his mind she laughed, her eyes crinkling lightly. "You must stop fidgeting." Christine's nimble fingers tugged on the needle she was threading through his shirt.
"Ow." He teased her as she gently pricked him. The truth was, though, he'd never admit it to anyone, he was nervous. This was to be their first dinner as MM. and M. Daae. Everyone knew who Christine Daae was, not a soul would know Christine Dressler…
She gently smacked his arm and finished the last stitch. "There. I'll be ready in just a moment." Christine disappeared from the bedroom, leaving Erik alone. He sat on the bed with a sigh.
Erik picked up his mask, the perfectly smooth porcelain calming him. Christine had mastered the art of changing the subject when his mask was brought up, but still, a certain guilt rested in his chest when he thought of all the trouble she had to go through.
Another part of him wanted to stay there, alone, not burdening her with his presence. And, yet, the last part of him wanted to be with her, scared to leave her side and scared for her to leave his. He looked up as she walked into the room, pristine and perfect as always. Her face fell, seeing him there. She sighed softly and sat down next to him, putting her arm around his shoulders.
"Darling," She said softly, gripping his hand.
He smiled tightly, "Are we to go then?" Erik slipped the mask over his face and held his hand out to her.
? ? ?
With shaking hands he helped her down from the carriage. His nerves were pulled taunt. Christine was walking in with the only person wearing a mask for no reason of apparent. Then again… With Christine on his arm, perhaps not much attention would be paid to him. All eyes on her…
They walked through the dining hall, retreating to the back of the room where doors (French doors, but they're in France, and I'm guessing they just call them doors…) stood propped open, a full meal set out surrounded by five chairs. Joining them would be a lovely ballerina and her husband, as well as a chorus girl a bit too inspired by Christine and a bit too fond of Erik.
They were the first to arrive, and glad of it, finding the chance to eat in peace for a spell.
Erik sighed and stood up, walking to the edge of the balcony. He gripped the railing and closed his eyes. While the sun had nearly set and twilight was thick in the air, his eyes still ached at the light. It was going to take some getting used too, after almost 17 years in the dark… A lot of things would take getting used too.
"Oh, dear, do forgive us. Our carriage was late." A deep voice said, causing Erik to turn around. It appeared the ballerina had arrived, her husband in tow. Along with the lone chorus girl, a bit too powdered and primped for the small diner she was attending.
"Don't fret." Christine smiled, "We only arrived a few moments ago."
"Excellent." MM. Ayon, the husband of the ballerina - Michel and Basil- said, "Ah, and you must be the famous Erik Daae, an honor to meet you." He extended his hand, and -after a stern look from Christine- Erik shook it firmly.
"Christine." Alice -the chorus girl- took Christine into her arms. "Oh, how I've been looking forward to this." She smiled and turned to Erik. "Messieur Daae, what an honor."
Erik smiled tightly. The girl's false smile, the contempt hiding in her eyes, disgusted him. He pulled Christine's chair out, and helped her sit. Alice seemed to be waiting for the same treatment, but Erik sat without a second glance her way.
The group chattered about, excluding Erik, who simply threaded his fingers and sat in silence. What he wouldn't give to be back in his home.
"Do forgive me," Alice laughed, her fifth glass of wine firmly pressed to her lips, "But I wasn't informed this was a masquerade!"
Silence fell over the table. Christine cleared her throat. "Little Basil, I-"
"My dear Christine! A handsome man like that, I would insist on seeing… all of him." She trailed off at the end, lifting her eyebrow.
Erik cleared his throat, "If you'll excuse me." He rose from his chair.
Little Basil (The name 'little' was given to all of the ballerina's until they became of age…) laughed, "Alice darling you've had to much to drink. Surely Messiuer Erik uses it for inspiration."
Her husband laughed, "I'm sure, no ghastly sercrets hiding are there-"
Erik swept his hand across the table, sending plates and glasses flying. "I shall not sit here and be mocked by small minded, petty insects." He stormed out the doors, knocking over a table and waiter upon his exit.
Christine glared, "Do none of you have the decency to leave well enough alone?" She followed Erik, calling his name.
"'Erik!" She followed him out a side door which led to a small alley-way between the buildings. He was muttering to himself.
"Insolent, prying maggots…"
"Erik, let us just go home."
"Home? To our ghastly secret? No hiding there!" He grabbed her arm and yanked her in close, "This will not end Christine!"
Christine's eyes water, his grip on her creating bruises. She looked away, more tears dripping from her eyes, "Erik, I don't want it to end." A quite sob racked her body.
His eyes softened and he released her arm, guilt consuming him.
"Christine." He said softly, almost singing. She turned away and began to walk. He followed her silently to the awaiting carriage. She had every right to be upset, and every right to be angry with him. Which, only led to him feeling more guilt. And, regret.
? ? ?
Christine had not spoken to him the rest of the night and retired to bed early.
Erik sat at his piano, absently trying to write. Emotions swirled through his mind. He was angry, angry at himself, angry at that Delighla (While I love the name, Delighla was a derogatory term back then… Sorry.) from dinner. The anger causing him to flip his piano seat and smash a glass of wine against a wall. Regret, and guilt fueled that anger throughout the night.
The sun soon rose and Christine awakened, she had to perform two shows that night. She left without a woed to Erik, who was still sitting at the piano.
As the day progressed he became less agitated at everyone but himself. Not once through the night had Christine shown the slightest hint of embarrassment. To her, it wasn't a problem. The most severe thought she may have had that night was a bit on inconvenience.
Christine returned a few minutes before midnight, a bit flushed from the cold. She walked past Erik and into the powder room. He silently followed her. Christine sat at the bench in front of her mirrors and pulled her earring off, then reached for her necklace.
"Allow me." He said, stepping forward. Erik gently swept her hair aside and began to unclip the heavy diamond from around her neck. He leaned down, holding her shoulder. "Forgive me?"
Christine looked away. Erik sighed softly. He reached up to remove his mask. Christine grabbed his hand.
"Allow me."
Hey guys! I hoped you loved what you just read! Please let me know if I've made any errors and I'll fix them as soon as I can. I'm always open to construction criticism! Don't forget to comment and follow! Until next time!
P.S. I just wanted to state that most of these stories will be a dream or some kind of fantasy (Kinda like his own little fan-fiction) of Erik's. I might slip in one or two that could have came from Christine, maybe even one from Rahul. Just lemme know!
