Chapter 4
Wedding Night
When I got up that evening, there was no sign of Érik. I panicked and was very upset. I did not know if I scared him away with that kiss. I wanted to go looking for him, but I could not think of a word to say if I managed. Most importantly, I had no idea where to find him. I could use my sharp senses and search the entire world, that's for sure. But how can I be certain that he wanted to be found? But how can I know if I do not go and find him? I paced in the room. I can't think straight. My mind mingled. The two thoughts almost tore me apart. After a struggle, I finally made up my mind to go looking for him. There must be police out there searching for him. He was in great danger.
I had no clue where he would be, so I started with the opera house - the only place I knew about him. It was burnt over, deserted in desolation. Wind sighed, through the broken windows, echoing in the hollow house. It expressed the feeling for me. When I was about to enter the gate, I saw a piece of newspaper sticked on the column by the wind. It said a wedding between Christine Daaé and Vicomte Raoul de Chagny. Suddenly I knew where has Érik gone. I was just hoping that he was still there.
It said a small church past the North Station. There was no train at that hour. I ran on the rooftops so that I can cut the straight line. Of course the wedding was over. Telling by the petals, it was a wonderful, happy wedding.
I searched every corner of the church, but did not find Érik. Standing on the rooftop, I was thinking, what could he be if he was going to watch the wedding from a place that no one would notice him. Perhaps in the woods near.
I saw him from afar. He was sitting against a tree, back to the church. He did not notice me, and I did not go any further. I could not see his face from the distance. Moonlight poured above him, through the long thin leaves. Shadows and silver mingled on his cloak. I did not know how long has he been here, whether he had a sleep today at all. I did not know what he was thinking, nor what he was feeling. I wished I could read his mind so that I would know how to comfort him. But I can do none of the above. I was not an expert in love, nor a good model. My heart had not trembled for almost nineteen centuries, until last night.
I did not know what to do but give him space and time. I did not want to let him go, but I wished not to hold him too tight. I hid myself in the woods and watched him from behind, - his slightly lowered head that I was so eager to hold up in my hands; his messy hair that I imagined running through my fingers; his arched knees that I wanted to caress. The hem of his cloak, swung in the wind, and brushed over my heart. I knew why he was here. I wanted him to know that there were others who keenly appreciate his talents. How can I let him know? Perhaps I can bring music back to his life.
I was so lost in the sight of him, and I did not notice that time flied. He stood up and walked down the hill. I followed him for I worried if I did not, police would. He was gloomy and in deep frustration. When he finally turned into the alley where I lived, the night started fading and the light started taking over the world. It occurred to me that I was thinking of getting him a piano to help him walk out of the melancholy. I managed to get in a piano before he walked up the stairs. I broke the window in my bedroom, but it was just a tiny expense.
I heard his steps, and sat down at the door. He climbed up the stairs and stopped when he saw me. A ray of guilt glided over his face. His mouth opened and closed again. I stood up, "I know where you've been. I don't mind." His deep gaze went right through my eyes, down to my inner core. No one talked and no one moved for a while. Then he said, "Come, let's go inside. Sun is getting out."
He saw the piano once he got inside. I put it in the drawing room, opposite to the door. He looked at me surprisedly. I did not know what to say, just wished he could get my meaning. He gave the piano another glance, before he walked up to me and paid me all the attention.
He was getting closer and closer. "Érik, I…" "Shhh…" I felt a warm breath coming toward me. Next second came a tap on my lips. Then he drew back. His eyes searched mine. Was there a soul within me to be found? I pulled him to me, our tongues entwined. I felt my hands in his hair. They tumbled as I released it. His scent sent me into a heady trance, on that would not end until our bodies became one. His hand laid upon my loin. One touch and it was all over. A shock of electricity ran through my skin, and hormones shut down my higher brain.
I escaped myself from him, and slammed him on the wall, took off his cloak, his suit. Suddenly he grabbed me by the neck and pushed me into his room. It was hurtful and it turned me on even more. He undressed my shirt, pressed me on the chest against the wall.
I knew I can move if I used my ability, but my desire told me to stand still. Kisses on my neck drove me to tip my head and expose more. His mouth went down inch by inch, slowly, brushing over my skin and burning. His hands were on my body, always just a little lower than the kisses. I felt my back arching in anticipation, knowing where his fingers would soon reach. My head rocked back against the wall as he did. A moan escaped from my throat. He pulled off my trousers, and threw me onto the mattress. My burning stomach touched the coldness, giving me a sudden inhale.
Then a firm hand covered my shoulder, a warm body wrapped my back, and a wet tongue outlined my spine. I was so nervous I had never imagined I could be. There was something about him that lighted me up from within. He melted my confidence to nothing. He broke the wall and smashed my pride, my ego into pieces. Being touched by him was like my heart being mended even though I had no clue it was broken.
I tasted his fingers in my mouth. Then he drew back and grabbed my hip. I felt his finger went inside, intensifying every nerve, every muscle of mine. "Relax." A low whisper blew a breath into my ear. I pulled the pillow under me and buried my face in it. Shut down the visual senses made my tactile senses even more sensitive.
Then he was inside, entirely. A throbbing pain stabbed right into my heart. I pressed my face deeper inside the pillow, wishing to bury my scream inside it. But he knew, for his hands covered on mine when I firmly grabbed the pillow. He gently rubbed the back of my hand with his palm. He did not move but embraced me inside of him. He pulled my hair away from my ear and kissed it. I turned my head to kiss him. Our skin moved softly together, like the finest of silk. He changed my breathing with every thrust. He swallowed my breaths, my moans. His arms wrapped around my chest and in one gentle pull our skin touched. Our bodies fit together as if we were made just for this, to fall into one another, to feel this natural rhythm.
I rubbed the linen sheet along with his movement. The discomfort down there added even more joy. Suddenly, a hand covered it up, and a joyful moan came out of my throat before I even realised. An infusion of thrill brewed within my body. It grew stronger and stronger as the time passed by. With the deepest hottest sweetness, I was on my way to the ultimate convulsion. He did too, just inside of me.
He gave me a soft kiss, then he rolled over upon the mattress, and held me in his arms. I turned around to face him. His right face faced up, and he looked so beautiful. My fingers brushed over his scar. I asked him whether it hurt. He shook his head slightly, and he never looked away from my eyes. I held myself up and kissed it, feeling the furrows on my lips. How could I never kiss it before? Then I put my forehead against his, and told him to get rest.
When I opened my eyes that evening, Érik was still besides me. His face was the first thing appeared before my eyes. I wished this would become the constant from now on. I did not move but looked at him with all my attention. If this was my life, no end would be a bliss. But deep in my heart, I knew he would change. He would grow old, eventually. Wrinkles would climb upon his face; his skin would get loose; his hair would turn into grey and fall; his eyes would cease to shine; his voice would lose its strength; his hands would shake and lose their grip. He would wither like a falling flower. Would I still love him even so?
Looking at his perfect face, I wanted to mark it to eternity, to fit my desire. But oh how I loved him so, would I not wish him not to be condemned with me forever? Would I not pass the card to his hand?
I wanted to hold on tight to the face before me, no more no less, for I was in love with every part of him, no more no less. I looked at him every second for there would be a day I would no longer can. Every second, he changed; he became less than he had been. But with every second, my admiration for him grew a bit more.
His sleeping face was peaceful and calm. I imagined what he would look like under the sun. Perhaps the sunlight would soften his face; add creativity on his lashes; hit shadows on the bridge of his nose; polish his rosy lips. Slightly, his warm breath blew over my face. He was so alive. That was one thing I would never have. His liveliness, his warmth, his breath, his heartbeat, his temperature, his body, his body, his body…
Then he opened his eyes. For a moment, I thought I saw myself within them. He smiled. The angel smiled, "Evening." "Evening." "What's the plan tonight?" "Stay with you." He laughed, "Sure."
He got up, saying he was hungry. He asked about me while he was putting food into his mouth. I shook my head while my eyes followed him everywhere. He kneeled beside me, putting a piece of cheese in front of my nose. I frowned at it, which made him laugh again.
"You always locked your bedroom. What's in there?" He asked.
"I can show you, tonight, if you like."
He put the last piece of bread into his mouth and nodded.
I warned him of the mess before I opened the door. He asked for the broken window and I told him it was the piano. He pulled me near by the shoulder and kissed my hair. He was surprised by the emptiness of my room for I only had a coffin, a wardrobe, and a large box. He asked me if I sleep in a coffin and I said yes for that was a vampire thing. I told him that all my past were in that box and I was ready to show him. Then we sat in front of it, and I opened it, "These basically are my souvenirs from all these years."
He curiously looked inside, and picked up a silver coin, "Is this…?"
"Yes."
He examined the coin carefully. His thumb brushed over Augustus's head, somehow made it shiner. "I thought you used it to buy a field."
"Oh, I didn't spend it all. It was… cheaper. So I kept one. No one wanted it. Now to me, it is a remainder of the beginning."
He looked at me deeply and put the coin in my hand. Then a cup drew his attention. He did not touch it but rather pointed at it and looked back at me. "Is this the one people always talked about?"
"I don't know. It was from our last dinner. But I don't know about the crucifixion. I found it at the place we dined, as it had been supposed to be."
He nodded thoughtfully, then pointed a book beneath the cup. "Is it a book?"
"Diary."
He drew back his reaching hand on hear of this. I shrugged and suggested that it was okay. So he carefully pulled out of and opened it. Then he looked quite helplessly and speechlessly at the languages.
"It's Aramaic." I cannot help but laughing.
"How many languages do you speak?"
"I don't know. Loads of them." I shrugged again, "Some are getting rusty. Some are forgotten."
"How about this one?" He tapped on the edge.
"Never forgotten, and never will be."
He carefully put the diary right back to its place, though I noticed a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth. He pulled out of a rectangle in shape wrapped in white cloth.
"Careful." I warned.
"What is it?" He held it in his hands, delicately.
"Go ahead, open it." I said, "But be careful."
His hands, from my way of seeing it, were rather too careful, which made me wanted to laugh. His eyes widened at the sight of it. It was a dagger. It used to be covered in blood, but I cleaned it. Now it was all rusty.
"That was basically the last time I ever did something. But it did not turn well, so I quit. I thought being a nobody was a better way of living."
"Was it painful?" His finger touched the blade. It had been blunted. It would not hurt anymore.
"Very. It was the first time I was out of control. I was wanted across the entire empire. I fled to Taruma, and decided to stay low since then. That's why I lost control the other day, again. I hadn't been stabbed for centuries. That was the second time. Somehow I would lose it once my body penetrated."
He wrapped up the dagger, put it back, then closed the box. "Would you lose it again if I penetrate you? Did you?" His hands were still on the box. His eyes lowered, though he turned his head to me, but he stared at the floor.
"No, I didn't. And I won't. Because I want to." I put my hand on his thigh, and kissed him from beneath. "You know what, I think we should get out of the country. We are wanted. You especially. Did you see the want post, newspaper?"
"Yes, I did."
"I'm so glad they didn't catch you yesterday. I was worried."
"I'm not that dumb."
"Says the man who got shot?"
"That was an accident." He gave me a blaming look, rather bitterly.
"So what do you say?"
"But you just got me a piano."
"I can get you a studio if you want. This place is a bit small for two."
"Yeah, that's true." He giggled, "So where do you suggest?"
"England? Do you speak English?"
"Yes. Why there?"
"I planned to move months ago. I already contacted a real estate agent there, just haven't decided which one to purchase. Perhaps we can get there first, then look for a place together."
"Sure. It sounds good."
"What do you say tomorrow night?"
"Tomorrow night?" He was surprised.
"I have all the legal documents necessary for me to enter and live in the country. I don't think it would be possible for you to go through that way. We have to leave without being noticed. To France, you will vanish."
"Sure. We'll leave tomorrow night." He stood up and dragged me out of the floor. "We'll bring your box, but not your coffin. That's not a proper place to sleep. I think we need to start packing your books if you want to make it tomorrow night."
Then we spent the rest of the night packing. We finally finished just before the dawn, and he asked me to sleep in his room for my window was still broken. He gave me the experience I had longed for, and I was thinking I would hook up with him for the rest of his life.
