My Darkest Hour
Prologue: The Dream
Christine's dark blue eyes fluttered open at the sound of a moan from the man in the bed next to her. It took her a moment to focus in the darkness, but finally she sat up and saw Erik tossing and turning next to her, groaning something in his sleep. She frowned.
She had suspected nightmares would come. She had heard him scream out in the night before, even from her own room behind the heavy door. Now that she shared a bed with him she was sure that when things settled down into a pattern of normality again – the wedding finished and all that that entailed – she had half expected for the nightmares to also return into his sleep. Knowing it did not ease her worry.
The diva reached out a slender hand to brush his face and he jumped as her hand caressed the smooth skin of his left cheek. His breath came ragged for a moment, taking it down in large gulps. Finally it evened and he lay back on his pillow, shaking only slightly.
"Love?" Christine whispered.
"I'm sorry… that I woke you," he murmured, reaching for the words he needed.
Christine shook her head. "No, dear, it's alright." There was a long pause before she settled herself with her head against his bare chest and one arm draped over his middle. "Care to tell me?"
"What?"
"Oh don't do that, Erik!" she grumbled, exasperated. She sat up and was sure she saw a frown of displeasure cross his face. "I'm no fool," she huffed.
"I never said you were, my dear."
"Yes, but you refuse to admit to me just what is causing you trouble."
"You know well enough I dream," he growled in the darkness.
"Yes…" she murmured, taking her place once again across his chest.
He sighed and wrapped an arm around her, smiling as she snuggled closer. "I'm sorry, my dear… My past haunts me in my dreams."
"Does it? What part?"
"I dare not…"
"Love, you may tell me anything."
"Some things-"
"What?" Christine demanded, half angry and half frustrated. "Some things what, Erik?"
He sighed, the images flashing through his mind. "My love… Please, not while it is fresh on my mind. I beg of you. I will only relive it again tonight if we discuss it anymore."
Christine propped herself up, kissing his lips softly. "If that is the case, then I understand," she managed as he pulled her back down again, claiming her lips as she had done his. "But in the morning?"
The Phantom looked up to her. His angel, leaning over him with her hair as a halo around her and her eyes shining with love. His Christine. "In the morning," he found himself saying.
A/N: The sequel has begun. I know the prologue is short, but I'm avoiding my mother screaming "go to bed! You have school!" so off I run. Let me know if I should continue.