First off, I wanted to say something to an anonymous reviewer, 15-in-Jan: I apologize for the, ah, cursing in the last chapter that upset you. I personally have a coarse language when angry and forget that not everyone does. I will try to pick my words more carefully. I don't want to offend anyone! If I say anything else that bothers you, please let me know.
Oh god, what have I done? The longer I sat in my room the more the thought repeated itself. I could be a complete idiot sometimes. Erik's anger was palpable, seeping through the walls to infect my every thought. I wasn't sure how worried I should be seeing as I didn't have his music to judge with. The entire home was deathly silent but I knew he was still there. Somehow, I knew.
After hours of pacing my stomach convinced me I had hid long enough. I felt the need to arm myself with whatever was at hand but I forced myself not to. How on earth was I supposed to get Erik to trust me if I didn't appear to trust him? And I did trust him in a way. Despite the weeks together I didn't know this particular Erik enough to trust him with my life, but I did trust him not to murder me. A paradox, I know.
I cracked the door and glanced out. There was no sign of Erik anywhere. I scurried down the hall to the kitchen as silently as possible. No need to wake a sleeping bear, as it were. I was just pushing the kitchen door open when I heard it. It was small, quiet, and muffled but there none the less. A sob. The entire atmosphere in the house changed and the anger evaporated as if it had never been there.
Standing in the hall with a hand on the door I debated what to do. Ignore Erik and leave him to himself? That was more than likely what he wanted. Or should I go to him and try to fix what my rant had done? My humane side told me to do just that. But it would entirely defeat the purpose if I undid anything my rant had done. With a sigh I padded farther down the hall to the one room I had never ventured.
Erik's bedroom gave off a cold and completely uninviting feeling. Swaths of black fabric hung from the walls and the stage was set for a funeral. The coffin in the center of the room completed the look. However none of this captured my interest; the form curled in a ball on the floor did. Oh, what had I done to him? Was this all because of my thoughtless words or something more? I resolved to find out.
I took a step toward him and gave my presence away. His yellow cat eyes snapped to me before he attempted to shuffle as far from me as possible. Well, I wasn't having that! Striding toward him purposefully I knelt and grabbed his jaw lightly, forcing him to look at me. He was ashamed that I was seeing him this way and tried to avert his eyes. His eyes; they were more expressive than he could have realized. There was a deep-rooted pain and anger which was nothing new, but they seemed to be directed inward.
Grabbing his wrist I tugged him into the kitchen behind me. He settled down at the small table and a stern glance ensured he'd stay there. Off the kitchen was a small room that wasn't hooked up to the strange heating system in the rest of the house so it was always the perfect temperature to serve as a fridge. Through that room was one that was even colder-granted, it was helped along by large blocks of ice near the ceiling-that functioned as a freezer. It was from this room that I grabbed a large wooden bucket Erik knew nothing about.
"Erik, I don't know why you're all angsty but we're going to deal with this my way." I said, plopping the bucket and a spoon down before him.
He looked at the brown-ish slurry in the bucket before raising an eyebrow at me.
"Ok, so it doesn't look the best but it tastes fine!" He just stared at me "What? It's homemade chocolate ice cream."
The spoon remained on the table top and he gave the bucket a shove away from him. I sighed. Grabbing the spoon I scooped out a bit of ice cream and held it out for him. He simply stared at it.
"Come on Erik!" I said in a child-like voice. "Here comes the train! Chug-a-chug-a-chug-a-chug choo-choo!"
I held the spoon less than an inch from his lips but he did nothing. The spoon bumped gently against his lips but he just shoved my hand away. He was impossible! Shrugging I ate the bite of half melted ice cream myself. Perhaps if I could get a smile or something he would stop acting like a stone.
"Come come young grasshoppah." I said in a terrible Japanese accent. "It's aaah an-chint Japah-nese secret. You aaah eat tha ice-ah cream and you aaah feel much bettah."
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I racked my brain for anything that he might find remotely funny or humorous. Then it hit me and I rushed from the kitchen. I knew just what I wanted and where to find it. Hidden in the back of a vanity drawer was a terrible secret, one I doubted Erik had the slightest idea of. It was something of Christine's that she had brought down and frankly I was frightened she even had the thing. It creeped me out so much when I first saw it that I shoved it to the farthest corner of the drawer and swore to never venture in that drawer again.
Grabbing the offending bit of cloth and a small string I came back into the kitchen with a smile on my face. All I had to do was turn the bit of cloth in my hand around and Erik's eyes took on a mischievous light. Oh yes, Christine had a Raoul doll in her vanity. I handed him the doll and quickly tied a slip knot into the string before handing it to him as well. Would that awful doll be dead beyond reason when Erik was done with it? Without a doubt. Would Erik be in a considerably better mood afterwards? You have no idea.
When I returned from putting the untouched bucket of ice cream away Erik was still exactly where I had left him. The only thing that had changed was the doll now had the small noose around it's neck. He looked up at me like he expected me to get upset because he'd killed the thing.
"Erik, you really need to take out your frustrations on that stupid doll."
"I have no frustrations." He murmured.
"Then what the hell is your problem?" I exploded. "Was it something I said? Tell me! I can't help if I don't know what the issue is."
"No, no you were right in everything you said. I don't listen to people, not really. I assume everything is spurred by a horror of me or spite."
"And you have every right to." I said gently. "Life has given you nothing else."
I sat in the chair next to him and laid a reassuring hand on his sleeve. He looked at that small gesture with wonder before searching my face for any sign of repulsion.
"You won't find it. The only thing about you that repulses and frightens me is your anger."
"I'm always angry so I always repulse you."
"Erik," I growled. "that's what I'm talking about! You warped what I said to suit your own opinion. Why can't you understand that I can see past your attitude problems?"
He looked at me from the corner of his eye before going back to staring a hole into the table top. Did I need to draw a picture for him to get what I was saying? I may not have crayons but I could do my best. The instant I opened my mouth he jumped up and strode from the room. Would he always run from what he didn't want to hear?
With a sigh I followed him through the house into the music room where he started pounding out melodies on the piano. Why did he always have to hide behind his music? Granted music made it easier to read his emotions it was still kind of annoying. At this very moment, however, it was less annoying and more helpful. The music had a haunting quality about it; sad with a bit of repressed anger. And yet, nothing about the notes coming from his fingertips made sense. His music was just as confused as he was.
"Will you please tell me what's running through that head of yours?"
He made no move to answer me but the notes pouring through the room grew quieter. Well at least I had his attention.
"Erik," I sighed. "it's time to end this before it gets worse."
His fingers stumbled to a stop. "End what, Elizabeth?"
"The awkwardness you force into this house. Do you want me to be completely honest with you? I will if you ask."
"Honesty is cruel." He scoffed.
"Honesty can be cruel, I'll give you that. But honesty can also be beautiful and liberating at times. Ask when you're ready."
-E-
A good day and a half passed without a word between Erik and I. Actually, I hadn't even seen or heard a sign of him the entire time. I assumed he'd left to haunt the opera house for awhile and settled in to draw several potato-headed stickmen. Yes, I meant potato-headed. It was while attempting to draw a person-I stress attempting-that Erik finally showed up.
"You. . .said I would get honesty if I asked."
"And you want it?"
He nodded tensely. Clearly this went against his every instinct and his better judgment.
"Very well," I sat down the pencil and turned to face him. "I'll tell you exactly what I think of you. I think you're beautiful in that split-second you let your walls disappear. The rest of the time I want to smack you stupid."
His head snapped up from studying the carpet. Did he really think I was going to hit him? And here I thought he was starting to trust me.
"I'd never hit you, Erik. Well at least I can't foresee me hitting you anytime soon."
"Why would you want to hit me?" He winced the instant the words slipped out.
"Because you can be more immature than my four year-old cousin." I said matter-of-factly. "Theoretically I know you're just a scared little boy inside, but it's difficult to remember that when you're being a dick. Which you are half the time. A ruthless, heartless, dick."
"And this is your opinion of me?" He asked coldly.
"No, that is my opinion of the Opera Ghost with whom I've spent most of the time I've been here. You, on the other hand, I like to be around more. You're a caring man, Erik, whether you admit it or not. You letting me stay here is proof enough. It's nice to be around someone who doesn't fake who they are."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Well," I hesitated trying to decided how much to tell him. "where I'm from no one is ever who they really are. Everyone wears mask upon mask to hide their true selves so no one really knows anyone. It's frustrating. But you, you who are forced to wear an actual mask, you never pretend to be someone you're not."
He paced the room, more than likely confused by what I'd said. I sighed. He asked for honesty so he got it, the only problem being it was impossible for anyone here to understand me. I still hadn't explained to Erik how I ended up here and frankly I didn't have the slightest idea how to go about it. I know I should have told him ages ago but what was I supposed to do if he threw me at because I was a 'crazy person'? Hop on a boat to America and find my great-great-great grandparents? Yeah, I'll get right on that.
"Erik, what do you want from me?" I asked suddenly.
He jerked to a stop "What do I want from you? I believe the appropriate question would be what do you want from me?"
"I don't want anything from or of you. Well, I take that back to an extent. I want you to speak to me like I'm your equal even though I'm really not. You're a gentleman but I'm no gentleman's daughter. You're a musician, a composer, a magician, an architect, and an artist. I'm barley enough of a musician to warrant the title, my attempts at composing anything result in massive headaches and maybe two notes, my magic tricks include showing the strength of gravity, my houses look like a three year old drew them, and I can't draw a straight line.
You speak so many languages and all I've got is botched English. You've traveled all over and I've never left America-I don't count how I got here as leaving the country. You're a genius, Erik. I may be smarter than the average bear but I feel like an imbecile next to you." I sighed. "Just. . .teach me Erik. I don't want to feel like such a moron anymore. Do that for me and I'll do what I can to help you. I'll help you with whatever you want me to, anything but killing someone."
"Teach you? And what, prey tell, do you plan to learn from me?" He sneered. "There is nothing you can learn from me, it's all over your head."
I jumped to my feet and my hand rose of it's own accord to bitch slap him. I just managed to stop it halfway to his face. His eyes were wide with shock and an anger that was slowly building at my action.
"Next time you insult my intelligence, " I seethed. "I won't stop myself from slapping you. Just because I'm not a guy doesn't mean I'm an idiot. There are probably a few things I could teach you, you pompous ass."
"Don't ever attempt to strike me. It would be the last thing you'd do."
"Bullshit. You're too much of a gentleman to harm a woman. Only one woman has died directly because of you and another indirectly. It's not the harem girl that haunts you, though, is it? You couldn't really care less about her, could you? No, it's her that follows you. Her death you replay in your dreams over and over again. The horrified look, the desperate flight, the stonework crumbling beneath her weight, her scream-"
"Stop!" He franticly covered his ears, trying to block out my voice.
"You know who I mean, Erik!"
"No," He moaned.
"You can't forget her. She was your first love, wasn't she? You loved her beauty. You were only fifteen when you watched her die in front of you. Watched her die because of you, because of your anger." He was hunched over moaning and I bent down so my lips were at his ear. "Luciana."
So. . .um. . .tada? Honestly, that wasn't where I had been planning to head with this chapter but Erik's being all angsty and refusing to do anything else. One must appease one's characters, I guess. At least I got something set up that I needed to.
Originally I told one of you who was confused that this was an E/C phic. Well, as I stared at this chapter I started thinking. Maybe it should be an E/OW phic instead. It could still go either way and frankly I'm fine with both. And so, I came to the conclusion to just ask you all.
So which would you prefer? Do you want Erik and Christine to go all happy-skippy-jumpy through life together? Or would you like to see the slightly more difficult road of Erik and Elizabeth? Because, let's face it, they'll probably be at each other's throats half the time. But that might liven things up a bit. Who knows?
We're slowly approaching the time for the final decision but it's still a few chapters away. For now this will be left listed as an E/C. If you all don't really care (which is fine) I'll flip a coin or something. I just wanted to give you a chance to tell me which you would like.