Erik watched while Nina slept soundly in the taxi that was hurriedly making its way to Calais. They hadn't spoken since he had told her to pack her bags in the main room of the hotel suite and he sensed that she was angry with him for avoiding showing her his face, though he had no idea why. She really had had no right to see his face in the first place.
Nina was still wearing the same violet gown she had worn before they had left the hotel earlier in the day and she had tucked her legs under her heavy skirts before falling asleep in the seat across from him, her head resting against the side door of the carriage, a curtain of black hair hiding her face from him like a mask.
Erik shifted uncomfortably in his seat and narrowed his eyes at Nina, almost suspicious of her innocent behavior. Her throat was exposed and he watched the dark skin move fluidly with each breath she took. He was also surprised to see the presence of a corset around her waist. It accentuated her endowments even more and he felt slightly aroused, though the feeling was only physical. If he made love to anyone, he was sure he would only imagine it was with his Christine.
What would his angel think of him now, beside a Spanish beauty sleeping peacefully in his presence? Erik wondered if she would be jealous. He had witnessed an envious spark in her a few times before at the opera house when the ballet brats spoke of either him or the boy. When she had become irritated with the brats sensual talks of the Opera Ghost, he had been utterly amused with her attitude, but now he was sure he would only feel a sick sense of satisfaction. She had hurt him, and he was sure seeing her precious Angel with another woman would cause her pain.
Erik splayed the papers he had taken from his suitcase on the seat beside him and began to write. He would need forged documents for passage from Calais to Dover, especially since he was traveling with a woman he had no relation to.
Writing out his name, Erik stumbled upon a question. If he and Nina were to be supposedly related, it would make sense that they shared the same last name. He had had many different last names for may different aliases in his life, so he was unsure of which one to use. His parents' surname had been Mulheim, but he had abandoned that title long ago. He had often used many other names when he had had to, but he was not sure how Nina would take to seeing herself stitched with one of his fake names.
She had called herself Ward, so he decided to scrawl that beside his name and did the same with Nina's required documents.
Working on her papers, Erik fell onto another question. He was not sure how old Nina was. She looked to be somewhere around Christine's age but he would rather not guess this. Woman could be so peculiar about things like that sometimes.
"Nina," He whispered in a sing-song voice, gently prodding her shoulder. "Nina, you must wake for a moment."
Brushing Erik's hand away from her, Nina made a noise to show that she was awake.
"Nina, what is your current age?"
"Ten and six years," She replied, brushing the hair out of her face so that she could see Erik's furrowed brow clearly.
"Surely you must be older?" Surely she had to be. Christine herself looked younger than Nina and she was at ten and nine years. "You look so much more. . ." He paused, searching for a word that would not offend her. "Mature." He decided.
"The tribulations of a working woman's life." Nina said with a grin, straightening her posture with a small groan, she held a hand to her head when she felt the lightness there. "Why must you know anyways?" A malevolent grin curled her lips. "Does it change your feelings towards me?" She asked innocently, repeating herself from their previous escapade from the hotel in Beauvais.
"Of course not." He snapped, strangely irritated by her grin. "I needed to know for these."
Erik handed her the papers ranging from birth certificates to passports he had been working on and Nina surveyed them carefully.
"Why Erik, I'm flattered," She said flatly. "You seem to have borrowed my surname." She handed him back the papers and leaned her head against the back of the leather seat, closing her eyes while doing so.
"I hope you don't mind." Said Erik quietly, folding his hands. "It would be easier to travel if we had some persona of relations and-"
"I don't mind. It's not my last name anyhow. Just the one of the orphanage I was taken to after my mother died."
She had lived at an orphanage despite her father's supposed riches? She really was a true working woman. Maybe that was why she had acted so differently from the pampered, high class woman he was used to. She had been more exposed through out her life to those who were different, the lower classes having not sneered as often at the abnormalities of true people, compared to the rich snuffing out anything strange they saw in a child.
"I see. I sympathize your loss." Erik said quietly.
"We were not close, remember strange man?"
"Neither was I, but I still felt a sense of remorse at my mother's death." Erik answered quietly and hid himself by returning to the illegal documents, missing Nina's scowl.
Feeling something pressing into her skin uncomfortably, Nina reached into her bodice and pulled out a long string of freshwater pearls threaded into a fine necklace.
"Oh, yes. I'd almost forgotten." Nina took the necklace and looped it around Erik's neck and he looked at her confusedly. It was still warm from being next to her flesh and he felt embarrassed to be in contact with something that had been in contact with the flesh of her breasts.
"Why?" Erik said slowly, twisting the beads in his hand while giving a slight shake of the head.
With closed eyes, Nina grinned and gesticulated ceremoniously. "Think of it as a thank you present." She declared.
"You have nothing to thank me for. As I said it is the duty of a gentleman to oversee the well being of a lady. And besides what use would I have for jewelry?"
"Sell it if you want, whatever suits you, and," Pausing she leaned forward in her seat slightly to look up at Erik more clearly, her raven locks draping over her shoulders. "Who told you I am not capable of taking care of myself?" Said Nina, slightly irritated. She wanted nothing more than to sleep, but Erik would not leave her be.
"As I recall," He said sharply, twisting the beads around his hand even tighter. "The first time I made your acquaintance you were nearly on deaths door."
"That is- I- I don't," Nina sat up straight in her seat in the back of the taxi and crossed her arms over her chest. "That has never happened to me before." She stated lamely. "I have always watched out for myself perfectly well."
Erik crossed his thin legs and looked at her through amused eyes, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. The white pearls tangled themselves between his fingers, making soft clicking sounds when they collided and Nina felt herself drawn to those faint sounds.
"And yet you let yourself become involved with a sadist, strange girl." An air of pretension laced Erik's words and Nina frowned.
"Well, I'm sure that I will have no similar problems soon." She said plainly, narrowing her eyes and copying Erik's aristocratic tone.
"Why is that?" Erik asked, suddenly losing his tone of arrogance.
"I have decided to spend the remainder of my life devoting myself to the will of God." Nina smiled and Erik gave an involuntary flinch. "There is a convent I know of in London," She said sheepishly. "I can think of no other place to go. It is not how I imagined I would be spending my life but. . . I know that there, I will be able to help people."
At her vow of celibacy, Erik felt a small feeling of relief. If the girl became taken to him, she would not express her feelings and he would not act on any urges.
"And what of your friends in London?"
"Ah, you see Victor and Emily, my friends, they have many problems of their own right now. I don't want to give them more trouble by imposing."
Erik thought this over and glanced out of the carriage window. They were passing some small village and Erik pulled back the small black curtain that covered the window to block out the sad scenery.
"I have an estate in London," Nina looked at him carefully and Erik sat up straighter and folded his hands together, suddenly finding interest in his hands. "I would gladly offer you a place if you are truly in need of one."
His eyes strayed away from hers and Nina felt a cough rising in her throat.
"No, you have already done so much for me I couldn't possibly-"
"Please, Nina," Erik took Nina's hand in his own and smiled. "Let me do every kind thing I can for you."
Nina huffed and laid her head against the door of the carriage again to hide her worried look. Was he perhaps. . . courting her? She was being courted by a murderer. Good God, what would Emily say if she saw her in this position?
Nina glanced at Erik and felt like she was seeing a ghost from the past. Here was Erik sitting in front of her, and there was Rousseau in her memory, leaning against the balcony railway showing her a broad smile filled with what had appeared to be love, while the moon glared above him. Their faces melted into each others and Nina raised her hands to her temple, cursing her slightly unhinged mind. She tried to think of the exact day she had started to go mad and only recalled the endless hell that was her life living with Rousseau. It seemed now that all the days wasted there dispersed into each other in one never ending affliction.
"I will think of it."
Closing her eyes, Nina was asleep again within moments and Erik watched, amused at her mad behavior that was not too unlike his own.
Erik returned to the illegal documents and pondered his plans for London. Suicide, he reminded himself. How though, he hadn't thought. Poison seemed like the cleanest option. Something that would draw out the last hours of his death painfully slow yet still let him retain some sort of dignity. He wouldn't be found in a pool of frigid life with empty veins, nor would he drown himself. Pain he wanted pain, he would want his last hours vividly clear, and nobody remembered anything better than pain and a good poison could make life seem more vivid than any previous life he had felt.
"Your life is a gift, you know. A gift from God. It's a sin to throw away that gift. I've seen people give anything they have for a mere moments more escape from death."
Nina's words echoed in Erik's head and he sighed. She had a point he supposed, but he really had no more point in living if he could not be with Christine. Sure, he was capable of outstanding services to music, but his muse was lost to him now. She was somewhere in Paris planning a wedding with some fop.
Without Christine, he would never be able to form another masterpiece. Erik heard the ever flowing symphony still, but it was nothing but emptiness now. Surely Christine had stolen more than his heart. Perhaps she had abducted his soul as well. And soon she would take his life as well.
Silently, Erik watched Nina and resisted a strong desire to touch her face. Doubt of his future plans began to creep into his mind and Erik's hand suddenly found itself covering his mouth, as it often did when he was troubled.
What the hell had this girl done to him? It had taken years to develop romantic feelings for Christine, and now here was this small feeling pf warmth somewhere deep in his blackened heart, as if she had cast some siren's spell on him.
"Nina?" He whispered softly, taking care not to trouble her if she was deeply asleep.
"Hmm?" Nina replied, refusing to move a muscle as she was still curled up against the side of the carriage.
"Je t'adore, mon Rosette."
Nina, in her doze, did not reply and Erik watched her calmly, his hand subconsciously scribbling away at his papers.
He would watch over her, guide her in the proper directions and make sure she was happy and well cared for, but Erik would never involve himself with Nina romantically. He would do everything in his power to ensure her well being and jubilation. His small feeling would ensure that at the very least. And if anyone tried to harm her he would rip out their vocal chords and strangle them with said vocal chords.
But Erik's would not allow himself to develop any sort of strong emotional feeling while she was under his care.
Sighing, Erik vaguely remembered telling himself the same thing when he had first taken Christine under his tutelage.
A short chapter, I know, I know.
Wow I must really thank you for your wonderful reviews, RedDeathLvr. As a special thanks here is a smile for you! (((~o・ω・) ~*
Thank you other readers as well! And please do not be afraid to review, my writing is fueled on criticism. (This is my way of begging, I'm just too stubborn to come out and say it).