5/2/14 - updated. Yes, it's been awhile. Bear with me, please. And how about a review or two? :)

Vivienne

That night I fell asleep to the sound of Erik's violin, and the music followed me into my dreams. I could hear not only the violin but an entire orchestra, and it was unlike anything that had ever been performed at the Opera Garnier. It was clashing and dissonant, soon joined by a hellish chorus, and then it shifted and became dark and seductive. I could hear that voice echoing in my mind, so utterly consuming I felt as though it was inside me and so raw with passion it enflamed every impure instinct I ever had and made me tremble with longing.

It changed again. It was no longer music I heard, but hundreds of terrified screams. I was aware of a glaring orange light and smoke hanging so thick in the air I could taste it. I had to find my uncle. We had to get out. It grew hotter and hotter and there was a panicked stampede as people tried to escape what was surely the end of the world. "Uncle!" I shouted. Where was he? "Uncle!"

"Vivienne..."

"Uncle!"

"Vivienne, wake up!"

I opened my eyes. Erik stood over me, shaking me awake. His figure at my bedside had become a familiar one over the past nights, but now it filled me with rage. It was his fault...it was all his fault.

"Was it that man again?" he asked gently.

"No," I replied, "it was the fire." Blood pounded in my ears and I found I was panting heavily. "It was the fire you started."

His eyes glowed in the darkness, watching me in silence, and I pressed on recklessly. "You destroyed the Opera House, you destroyed everything! People died that night! You tore my family apart and now I'll never see them again! And for what? Because you couldn't accept that Christine didn't love you?"

"Vivienne, calm down," he said. "You had a bad dream, that's all—"

"That's all?" I cried. "It's a dream I'll never wake up from! You burned our world to the ground! If it wasn't for you, my uncle would never have started drinking! He wouldn't have sent me out into the streets! I would never have met that man and he would never have done what he did to me! I wouldn't be trapped here with a monster for the rest of my life!"

He took a step away, but his voice was hard and dangerous. "Hold your tongue, Vivienne. Don't talk of that which you know nothing of."

"I beg your pardon, but I know enough about it to say what I feel," I retorted, flinging back the covers and getting out of bed. I didn't cut a very intimidating figure, dwarfed as I was by his tall frame, but I held my ground and stood before him defiant and angry. "You wanted what she couldn't give you, so you tried to take it for yourself and you didn't care who you hurt in the process! Every story ever told of the Phantom pales in comparison to the truth! They all said you were sadistic and without a conscience, but no one guessed what you would do for love! How can you even call that love, Erik? It was twisted, a perversion! You know nothing of what love really is!"

A growl of rage tore from him and he grabbed my arms in fists of steel. Had I not been so furious myself, I would have been terrified. I hadn't seen him this angry before.

"I know nothing?" he shouted. "I did everything to win her, and yes, I even did my best to force her to love me, but I let her go for love! I had to stand and watch as she left me alone again, and I did it for her! The monster in me wanted to keep her forever, to imprison her as I imprisoned you, but I loved her too much! And after all this time, she still won't let me be! You think you're haunted by the ghosts of your memories? You know only the terror of what was, you know nothing of the torment of what might have been! Nothing, damn you!"

"Damn me?" I said, laughing humorlessly. "Yes, damn me; damn me to this hell with you!"

He threw me from him and I sprawled on the floor. "And I suppose you think I'm the Devil, do you?" he roared. "You think I'm a monster, yes?"

"It takes a monster to do the things you have!" I yelled back, getting to my feet again. "How could anyone love a monster like you? I hardly blame Christine for running from you!"

"You're right," he snarled, "no one could love a monster like me. I've always had to take what I wanted, and I've gotten so good at it." He came at me with cold fury and for the first time that night, I was afraid. He seized me by the throat and brought his face close to mine, and the mask couldn't hide the fire of his rage. It marred his handsome features and turned his angel voice into the voice of a demon.

"No one could love a monster. Monsters have to steal the love they crave. They take it and claim it in sweet victory. Should I steal yours, Vivienne? Should I take from you what no woman alive would give me of her own free will? Is that monstrous enough for you?"

"No," I whispered, petrified. "Erik, no, please...please let me go..."

"You think you know what's going to happen next? I'll admit, you know more about it than I do, but I think desire ought to atone for inexperience and in this case, I don't mind someone else's hand-me-downs."

I flinched back, the words themselves like the slap before the rest of it. Tears began to fall, helpless, terrified tears. "Stop it," I begged, "please, just let go..."

"Are you afraid?"

"Yes."

"Why? Do you think I'm going to hold you down and force you, after I swore I wouldn't lay hands on you? Do you think I'm just that evil? Do you?"

I couldn't answer him, trembling from head to toe and weeping in desperate fear. I couldn't endure that horror again, not with him or anyone else. But if he chose to make good on his threats, there was nothing I could do to stop him.

He stared down at me in silence, and I dreaded what would happen next, more pain and more nightmares. Finally, he released me. "My sins are not for you to judge," he told me, "and my pain is not for you to mock. No, Vivienne, I won't force you. There are some atrocities even the Devil won't commit. But mark my words: You're as close to Hell as you can get down here, and the sooner you learn that, the better we'll get along. Is that clear?"

I nodded mutely.

"Good. Now get back in bed."

I didn't argue with him, curling up into a ball under the blankets with my back to him, and for the rest of the night we didn't exchange another word.


Erik

I sat with her until she fell asleep and stalked into the sitting room the instant she was out. Anger still made my pulse hammer furiously and I paced back and forth, trying to calm myself.

Who did she think she was? Why did she insist on angering me like that? What did she think it would get her? I kicked my chair as I passed it and sent it skidding backward. How dare she!

I went back into her room, not sparing her a glance as I retrieved my violin and went into my own bedroom. I sat and scraped moodily at it, channeling my ugly thoughts into ugly sounds. She had no right to talk about Christine, no right whatsoever. What did she mean by it? The nerve of her! I was fed up with her brashness, and she had been here hardly more than a week!

How could anyone love a monster like you? How, indeed? Christine certainly couldn't. No one ever could. But I wanted to be loved, needed to be loved. The man in me yearned for it more than anything, and the monster would stop at nothing to claim it.

I thought back to the scene in Vivienne's room, watching it from a new perspective. I grabbed her by the throat and threatened her with that fate worse than death, taunting her with what she feared the most. I frightened her, as I had aimed to do. It was so easy to control people when they were afraid; experience taught me that. And Vivienne's experience had taught her to fear men with their desires and violent ways.

I was suddenly disgusted with myself. Just what in the hell was wrong with me? I wouldn't have touched her, but what was I thinking to even go as far as I did? I wanted to hurt her because she had hurt me, and I struck too deeply. It was a miracle she trusted me to the extent she did, given what she had already suffered, and it was doubtless I had just blasted it into oblivion. Could I sink any lower, even in my own estimation? I already knew I was a beast, but I didn't have to act like one.

I set the violin aside and rested my elbows on my knees. I never would have dreamed one little ballet rat would cause so much trouble...I clearly hadn't learned my lesson with Christine. The shred of a conscience I possessed, despite what Vivienne said to the contrary, demanded I try to set things right, if it was even within my power to do so.

I brought her breakfast the next morning while she was still sleeping. I had already been up and about for several hours running several errands and hoping that when the time came, I wouldn't make things worse. All that remained was for her to wake up.

I stood at her bedside, watching her as she slept. She looked so young but somehow ageless, as though time had frozen and left her sleeping for thousands of years, inexplicably vibrant yet utterly peaceful. She sighed and stirred slightly, a lock of auburn hair falling into her face. I reached out with a gentle hand and brushed it back off her forehead, my fingers lingering for a moment. I had never been allowed something like this, to be so close to a woman and to touch her without her flinching away in revulsion. I carefully ran my fingers through her hair, feeling it flow like silken fire against my skin. The scent of her rose up to meet me, delicate and sweet. I caressed the air beside her face, then ever so gently touched her cheek.

She stirred again and I drew my hand away. If she knew I had taken even so small a liberty after last night, she would be furious. I thought of her as she was then, so tiny but so fierce. Even in the midst of my own temper, I had to fight an urge to laugh.

I backed away as her eyes fluttered open. They focused upon me and she frowned, lifting her head from the pillow. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"I need to talk to you," I replied, as calmly as I was able.

"I think you said enough last night," she retorted, the bite of her anger not enough to conceal the raw wounds she sustained. She had already been hurt and I had only hurt her more, but she chose to hide it beneath temper.

"I said too much," I said. "You were right to call me a monster, and I never should have behaved the way I did. I shouldn't have scared you like that, Vivienne."

"But you did, Erik," she insisted. She sat up, the blankets falling from her shoulders, and she drew them up to cover herself again. I recognized the same defensive manner from our first meeting, when she couldn't stand to be touched. "I thought you understood," she went on. "You heard me scream in the night, you did so much to chase away those terrible dreams, and then you nearly did your part to create new ones. How could you do that?"

I bowed my head, the depth of her injury made clear. She did trust me, and through my actions I had betrayed her. I really didn't learn my lesson after all, did I? "I'm sorry, Vivienne. I let my temper get the best of me and was cruel to you. It was inexcusable under any circumstances, but especially considering what you already went through. However angry I was with you, you can't imagine how angry I was with myself after I realized what I had done. Please forgive me."

She didn't reply, refusing to even look at me.

"Vivienne, please," I said, "let's start over? Try not to go at each other's throats so much?"

She snorted in contempt and I winced at my blunder. Too late for that, Erik... "Can we at least be polite?" I asked.

She sat quietly and I waited for her answer until at last she said, "Polite works for me. But we're still not friends."

"Of course not," I agreed, "though since we're being polite, would you be so kind as to open those for me? I can't be bothered with it myself, unfortunately." I pointed to the pile of packages on the sofa, all wrapped in brown paper.

"Getting me to do your chores for you hardly seems polite," she grumbled.

"Indulge me."

With a sigh, she climbed out of bed and wrapped her dressing gown around her petite form. I watched her closely as she reached for the first box, her expression still wooden and unyielding. She ripped the paper off the box and opened the lid, and it was transformed; she let out a gasp of surprise and delight, and I considered my efforts rewarded. She lifted out the gown, a mass of dark green silk I was sure would bring out her eyes and the copper in her hair, and exclaimed, "Erik! This is beautiful!"

"So am I to understand that you like it?" I asked, feeling rather smug at her reaction.

"Like it? It's wonderful!" She held it up to her shoulders, running her hands over the material and twitching the skirt to hear it rustle. Then she froze and looked back at me. "Is this a bribe?" she demanded.

I pretended to be insulted. "You think I would try to buy your forgiveness? I'm shocked, mademoiselle, shocked." She continued to stare at me, and I grew serious. "It's a gift, Vivienne. It isn't a ploy to earn your trust or to elicit any favors from you. It's just a gift, and I hope you will accept it as such."

She lowered the dress but didn't say a word, and I added, "It's brand new. Never a hand-me-down."

Tears glistened in her eyes and for a moment she was speechless. Finally, she whispered, "Thank you, Erik."

"It's nothing," I replied. "There's more in the other boxes, and your breakfast is getting cold. I'll leave you to yourself for awhile." She nodded, and I left the room.

She hadn't quite forgiven me, and I knew I would have to work to regain her trust...but at least she was happy. That was an accomplishment, if nothing else. I had so rarely made anyone happy, and it was a feeling I had completely forgotten.

I rather liked the feeling. I would have to make it a point to make her happy again sometime.