Sleep Walker, (in dreams he sang to me)
AN; This is a one shot, based one on a picture that sprang into my mind.
A BIG thank you to CountessofRothes (.net/u/806084/) for the help with what Christine would have been wearing.
Warning; Erik will be more than slightly ooc, I love dark Erik, but this is a comedy.
Based in the world ALW the musical than anything else, but once again, they will bit ooc.
Set just after 'Music is the Night', enjoy!
Work, he needed to work! Work on something that would take his mind off the fact that the object of his desire was at this moment, asleep in his bed. In his bed! And somehow he knew that while watching someone sleep sounded very romantic, in the 'real world' –a world he didn't like very much, but had to spend a certain amount of time in- it might be seen as, well, 'creepy'.
He didn't want her to get the wrong idea, which she might, waking up and finding him leaning over her, taking in every detail, watching her breast rise and fall under the thin white lace, drinking in her smell….
Work! Something, anything! Something that he could loose himself in! His Opera! That might do it! He had the out line of the chorus in act II, but still needed to flesh it out, and get the harmonies. Perfect!
Erik was deep in the world of his masterpiece, when he was pulled away by the sound of a splash, and a shriek from the lake.
He spun round and saw a vision of the other world. A white shape, floating over the water. He stumbled to his feet, and rushed to the shore.
He blinked, and saw more clearly.
Christine stood waist deep in the dark water, a look of shock frozen to her face.
Erik could only stare for a moment at the dripping soprano, soaked to the skin, and starting to shiver, before his brain once again began to function. He knelt and held out a hand to her, which she grasp thankfully.
Thoughts began to rush through Erik's head at the speed of light.
'Did she fall in? Thank the God's she fell here, where it's reasonably shallow. Can she swim? Yes, she spent her childhood at the seaside, she must know how to swim. She's wearing a corset, can you swim in a corset? I must tell her to stop wearing them; it is impossible to breath properly. It's only thanks to the wonderful acoustics of the Opera House that she hasn't run into difficulty with projection yet. How do I bring up her choice of undergarment in a normal conversation?'
Christine was shivering it as he helped her away from the lakes edge, and closer to the warmth. Her clothes felt like sheets of ice next to her skin. Erik could see that, and that when white gets wet it becomes alluringly- if he let his thoughts go that way- see-through.
"I'll get, something dry.' He stammered, before running off.
He grabbed a towel, and an oriental dressing gown, that was soft, warm, and most of all, thick!
When he returned, she had taken off the now dripping lace gown. He couldn't stop staring. Admittedly, she was still reasonably covered, only her arms and shoulders had now been revealed. Her costume tonight had been far more revealing, and the slave girl costume she had worn in the ballet left very little to the imagination, but this was, very different. This was not a costume, and he was the only one to see her.
Numerous layers of soft linen still covered her legs but they were relatively opaque, and they clung to the outline of her body. She was turned away from him, and he could see the tight laces crisscrossing her back, her beautiful bare shoulders beneath the now almost transparent straps of her chemise.
She was fiddling with something at her waist, and before his eyes, he watched her shed the sodden petticoat. It reminded him of a butterfly shedding it's cocoon. He was starting to get butterflies himself. The chemise clung to her thighs, and peeking out beneath it, he could see the frills of her drawers at her knees. He took in the shape of her slender ankle.
'Does she know I'm here?'
He coughed, and she turned. She was still shaking with cold.
"I've brought you these." He said, stating the obvious. "They're dry."
"Thank you," she chattered. Her hands were shaking violently. She looked down at herself, and the buckles of her corset. "I can't seem to get this open." She was blushing hotly. "Could you… please?" She couldn't meet his eyes as she asked for assistance.
Erik could only think of one thing to say. "Of course."
He set the dry clothing down carefully, and stepped forward. It looked a lot more complicated now that he was about to try to open it. It was like a bloody chastity belt, or an iron lady, or something! And women wore them every day?
"You have to loosen the back first." Christine said turning around.
'Learn something new every day.' Erik thought to himself.
It was knotted in a simple bow, but it was wet, and tight… Erik tried not to think.
'I can untie a knot. I'm the king of knots. But why is this so difficult!'
He wondered if he could just get a knife and cut it? Then, it came undone, at last.
'Now, how do I loosen it?'
He gingerly put his has on her waist. He couldn't tell if she shudder, or trembled under his touch, she was shivering so much as it was, she might not have reacted at all, but he wasn't completely certain.
He slipped his thumbs under the sides of the corset, and gently pulled them apart.
"Is that, enough?" He asked, feeling like a fool.
"Yes," Came the reply. "Could you also unbuckle it?"
He didn't think he could look her in the eye at this moment, so he slipped his arms around her.
'She is freezing!'
She seemed to be shivering even more, now that he was so close to her, almost embracing her.
'Think of music!, Think of music ! Là ci darem la mano*… No, not that kind of music! Boring, safe music. Keys, recite the circle of 5ths starting on C.'
He found the first of the mettle clamps, and undid it. His hands moved higher to the second one.
'A, E, B, F sharp… She even smells soft, can things smell that way that feel?... F sharp, C sharp, G sharp… And only the ends of her hair are wet, it feels so… G sharp…'
He was on number three, three more to go.
'G sharp… her neck is so near… G sharp… can she feel my breath?... G Sharp… I could kiss it…G sharp, G sharp, what after G sharp! Could I kiss it? G SHARP! D SHARP! A SHARP!'
Last one. He opened it, her hands came up next to his, helping him peel it from her body.
'A sharp! Oh gods, it's practically transparent! Bad. Bad? Good?'
He could feel his face turning scarlet, and not in the terrifying 'mask of red death' way.
'Am I Blushing!'
Fast as lightning he grabbed the towel and all but threw it over her.
"Thank you," she was about to turn around to face him.
"I'm going to get you some tea!" He almost screamed!
' Am I loosing my mind? Why am I acting like this? Gods, I have issues with the human body!'
When he returned with the tea tray, Christine had removed the rest of her wet clothing. They lay in a sad puddle, as if depressed at being deprived of the pleasure of her company.
She had put on the dressing gown. It was too large for her, threatening to fall off her shoulders if she were to move too suddenly. Erik could see the outline of her collarbone. He wanted to run his fingers over it, feel it's shape. But then something else caught his attention.
'I know I move like a shadow about the opera house, but has she not noticed that I've come in? She mustn't have. She wouldn't be doing that in front of me, would she? I could I just stand here and watch? No!'
Seated on the chaise longue, she had one leg stretched out front of her, she was slowly removing her stockings.
'This must be a dream. I'm going mad. I've gone mad! This is not happening.'
She'd stopped shivering at least.
'Thank Gods I built this place under the furnaces, it's always warm.'
He coughed again to reminder her she was not along, as she pulled the stocking from her foot. He placed the tray down carefully, then poured a cup, and added milk, no sugar, before carefully handing it to her.
He hovered uncertain what to do next.
"Please, will you sit next to me?"
He complied, trying to make it look as if he'd meant to do this all along. He poured himself a cup. No milk, sugar.
There was an awkward silence as they both sipped their tea.
Christine broke it first. "Thank you."
Erik was so relieved she spoken.
"Your very welcome."
More silence.
"Christine?"
"Yes?"
"May I ask, what exactly you were doing in the lake?" He tried to make it sound as natural as possible, as if asking what she though the weather would be like tomorrow.
She blushed. "I'm not sure. I just, woke up there."
'There's something she's not saying.'
"Ah."
More silence.
"Thank you again for helping me out and, well, helping me out of…"
"Please, my dear, you are welcome, and there is no need to mention it." 'Please, don't mention it! My face is deformed enough, I don't need it to be red too.'
She set down her teacup.
"Are you feeling, warmer?"
"Oh, yes, thank you."
"Christine, please, do not think me impertinent, but, do you often walk in your sleep?"
Once again Christine blushed. She seemed to be getting into a pattern, blush, say thank you, blush…
"Sometimes. I've always been, a little embarrassed about it."
'And afraid.' Erik added to himself. He could see it in her face.
"And you wake up in strange places?"
"Yes, normally in my room, or just outside it."
'Not by an underground lake, in a Phantom's lair. My grand plan is not working out as I had hoped. Might have helped if I'd had more of a plan than just bring her down here…'
"Do you dream while your, walking?"
"A little, I can't remember it very clearly."
"I would be interested to know what it was you remember from this occasion."
"I, remember there was mist, swirling mist across a vast glossy lake. There were candles all around, and on the lake, there was a boat. And, in the boat, there was a man…"
He interrupted her at this point. "Christine, that was not a dream, I believe that was earlier this evening."
She blushed again.
'How does she keep doing that? The colour is there, then gone, then back.'
"Yes, but, it was different. I was trying to…" she faltered, "I don't remember what I wanted to do." She started shiver again.
Erik was alarmed. "Are you alright?" He asked, and almost instantly though 'Stupid question!'
"Just a little cold still."
Now she was looking at his face, and he could see her arm beginning to move towards him, she was about to reach out for his mask! He panicked, fight or flight instinct kicking in. He wrapped his arms about her and held her close to him, stopping her hand before it could reach his face.
He felt her in his arms. She wasn't pulling away, she wasn't even stiffening. He felt her relaxing against him. He held her tighter, not wanting this feeling to go away, and she nestled agents him, her head resting on his shoulder. Her hair smelt faintly of jasmine.
'I could kiss her, now. But I don't want to let go.'
Slowly, gentle, he placed a tentative kiss on the back of her head, so light, he was sure she couldn't feel it. But he would know he'd kissed her.
"Thank you." She said again, and he could feel the vibrations of her voice.
"You are more than welcome."
*seduction duet from Don Giovanni
