Right to acknowledgments (because I received a bunch of reviews, thanks you guys!)
Sheepshanks- I'm glad it leaves you wanting another chapter and I hope you like this one!
CaptainHooksGirl- Mysterious is fun to me so it's good the last chapter gave off that kind of mood. I really enjoy writing Erik's many sides and his tender one is one that is hard since he must be sweet but still detached. I'm happy you liked the way I presented it. Also, I thought that particular quote showed his duplicity well, so thanks for thinking it "perfect"
Nami Swannn- Thanks for showing love for the moment when he kissed her bruise. Nice to know the little romantic moments are appreciated.
RosePC786- No worries, though I would love to hear from you more, I am still grateful for any and all reviews you give me and it is truly wonderful to know that you will follow the story. Even if you do repeat yourself, it's wonderful to hear how much people enjoy my story, so many thanks!
UltimateKawaiiGirl- (Ch 1)- Calling me your fav fanfiction author, well I am simply honored. Thank you! (Ch 2)- Glad you think the cast in character. I really strive for that. (Ch 3)- That line truly speaks volumes of Erik's past. Wonderful to know that it inspires emotional response, really that's the best kind of reaction to my stories. Never be afraid to point out mistakes, though I may not fix them immediately, I like to know when I have messed up, so thank you. (Ch 4) It's alright about being repetitive, really I'm just happy that you are taking the time to review every chapter. (Ch 5) Awww, darling that's so sweet of you to say. And I'm both sad and happy you cried (weird to say but hopefully it makes since) (Ch 6)- Your wait has ended for here is an update and I hope you enjoy my other works as well. Thanks for all the praise and again for finding my mistakes.
Million- Thank you for calling it touching.
Laurie- (Ch 5) your summation of chapter 5 was very deep and I like how complex and yet concise your ideas were. I love how you can see all the details that were revealed about Erik in that chapter. Also, hehe glad you loved it. (Ch 6)- I'll admit to trying to make it a bit mysterious so I'm excited that you find it intriguing. And thanks for wishing me luck, Footloose went very well!
Save the Date- Can I first take but a moment to tell you how beautiful the words "take your time" are to me? Truly they mean so much as I try to work to post on time, but when I am late such patience is a wonderful thing. So happy you are enjoying Erik and Christine's "baby steps" to understanding one another. Also, I too wish they could have been together and I'm overjoyed to know that you like my depictions of alternate endings.
Venture Wood-angelofmusic75- Vey glad you're enjoying the development between Erik and Christine. Also no worries on the short review and thanks for wishing me well on my show. It went very well, thank you. Nice to know you're still reading
Everyonedeserveslove- Aww thank you and here's an update. Hope you like it!
Vampgirliegirl- No worries, I do not intend to give up on this story. I hope you enjoy this new chapter!
AnskuuBanskuu- Thank you for saying you "love it" and that I'm an "amazing" writer. Truly that is wonderful to hear!
Amalia Santoro- I like writing that side of Erik so I'm happy you like to read it. Hope you enjoy the questions this chapter (devious smile)
Phantom Watcher- So glad you want more and hope you enjoy this chapter!
Disappointed- I'm sorry you feel that way about this story.
Dear Raoul,
I pray you will forgive me for not saying goodbye before my abrupt departure from the opera house. I was recently presented with a rare and wonderful opportunity. The managers have decided to further my musical education by allowing me to study with a renowned private tutor. I would reveal his name and my whereabouts but the entire situation is quite secretive, for my instructor is famous for his musical exploits and does not wished to be bothered during our lessons. I do not even have the slightest idea where we are but I assure you that I am being treated well and I am learning new techniques from my studies.
I am afraid I will not be receiving any letters from you as this note will be presented to the managers to forward to your estate or deliver to you if you should visit the opera before then. Very rarely will I be permitted to send any correspondence in the future. My teacher is adamant that I detach myself from the world and focus only on my musical training.
I am not certain when I will be returning, as I am to leave only when my tutor decides I am ready. I trust his judgment, truly I have never met another musician to equal him. Though some of his methods are terribly eccentric and odd, they appear to yield the most astonishing, and pleasing, results.
I know you will be supportive of my endeavors as you are ever patient with my desire to perform. It brings me such joy to realize that you are proud of my music instead of ashamed as weaker men would be.
I hope you are well and happy in my absence. I pray for you daily, that God would watch over you and answer your prayers. Please pray for me as well, for though I am gaining a great deal of advanced instruction, the lessons are not always simply or easily learned.
Yours,
Christine Daae
Raoul stared at the letter intently. Something in her message sounded…odd, out of character somehow. He couldn't put his finger on it. She sounded just as happy and attentive as her usual self, yet an aspect of her words continued to irritate him. Perhaps it was the coldness of her signature. Well, cold might have been an exaggerated tone, subdued would fit better. Her letters to him were generally signed with love or yours always. Yours. That was all she left him in parting, no word of love or loyalty. But maybe he was blowing it wildly out of proportion. Her sudden disappearance had left him on edge and horribly worried. The missive relieved him in that he knew Christine was in no danger, but it also made suspicion rise.
The situation she described appeared so mysterious. Raoul did not like mysterious, riddles and secrets appealed very little to his straightforward personality. He enjoyed the comfort and assurance that came with facts and truth. Christine had taken care to steer her message around her instructor without saying overly much about him.
Him.
That pronoun alone rankled Raoul's nerves. Her teacher was obviously a man, and seemed to be an awfully possessive one at that. Refusing Christine her freedom to send correspondence was outrageous. He would have said so to Christine, but thanks to her irritating mentor, he could not even contact her.
He swept a hand through his blonde locks. Music, she had always been so obsessed with her artistic pursuits. If he was perfectly honest, sometimes her passion was irritating in that it took her away from him so often. He believed she suspected as much with the weighty hints so carefully woven into her letter. Her mention of "weaker men" not understanding almost appeared to be an indirect shot at him should he not agree with her whim to receive more musical education. Though it was clever of her to give him no way to voice an objection when she returned, it also maddened him slightly that she seemed so completely enamored with her music.
Raoul had never truly understood the appeal that opera held for her, though he did enjoy watching her perform. He had rarely liked to visit the theatre as a patron until she had begun to sing.
Yet, having an actress as his love interest was not an easy burden to bear. He hadn't revealed that she was an opera singer to his family. The aristocracy he had been born into had very little tolerance for outsiders, much less a woman who held such a profession as Christine.
A cleared throat regained Raoul's attention. "Monsieur Vicomte, is there anything else we can do for you?" The manager Andre looked eager to please, but nervous as well. He must have noticed Raoul's scowl.
"Did you see the messenger who dropped off this letter?" the Vicomte de Chagny asked briskly. "I should very much like to speak with him."
"Forgive us," Firmin answered haltingly, "but the letter was placed in our box before we arrived. We have no idea who could have left it."
Why am I not surprised? Raoul chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "And what does your ghost think about your best soprano being shipped off?" he asked sarcastically. Their belief in all the Opera Ghost nonsense never ceased to amuse him.
They shared an anxious look.
"He is…quite pleased actually. I had never been so shocked as when we received, well, praise from him for our decision," Andre said shakily.
"It was your decision to send her to the teacher, was it not? Then surely you must know him."
"I am afraid not. We're actually not entirely sure how Mademoiselle Daae received this so called "prestigious" invitation or who her wealthy sponsor is. We assumed it was you, but obviously it is not. I'll admit the circumstances are all quite strange," Firmin looked quite annoyed with the mystery as he spoke. "We were to begin production of a new show this week and all of our plans have been rearranged to suit her absence. We had decided to appease the Ghost and give her a lead while Carlotta is visiting Italy. But right as we selected an appropriate show, the girl disappeared. If you will forgive me for saying so, it is quite maddening."
"No forgiveness is necessary. My plans have been a bit upset since her departure as well." Plans that included proposing to Christine. "My thanks, messieurs," he bid as he left the opera house.
Something about Christine's private lessons wasn't right. Raoul frowned thinking of how pleased their ghost seemed to be.
Not right at all.
Christine awoke lazily, confused by the lack of light. Erik's underground home had its disadvantages. Thinking of him made her recall the startling moment that had occurred the night before. When Erik had been carrying her to bed, she had come awake. But she felt so comfortable and safe she had pretended otherwise, savoring the tenderness of his embrace. But as he had turned to go, he had left a searing kiss upon her wrist that had shook her. It had been so sweet, but penitent as well. He still felt guilty for the worsening of her bruises. But it wasn't his fault.
With that thought she rose and readied for the day, slipping a simple gown of pale purple with long belled sleeves over her head and tying the laces as best she could on her own. She ran her fingers through her brown curls with water from the wash basin to smooth them back into shape.
Christine crept down the hall to the kitchen, expecting him to be preparing breakfast. But the kitchen was empty. Her brow furrowed and she went to the sitting room, then his music room. Both were empty. The library, dining room, bathroom, none yielded his presence. Finally she stood outside his bedroom, shaking slightly but controlling her fear. She pushed open the door, afraid of immediate chastisement. His bed was made and held no trace that he had been there the night before.
There wasn't a note left behind, no sign that he had cared to worry her. No, Christine, he'll be back, her mind argued. Then why is there no letter!
Her breaths began to hitch as she grew more hysterical and she leaned against his doorframe, sliding down until she was crouched against the wall. No she couldn't do this. Everything was fine.
She had not wandered down to his home on her own.
She had not imagined that he had returned.
She had not been spending days in the cellars of the opera house alone.
Proof! There was evidence that he had been there. She jerked up the sleeves of her gown, pressing her thumbs harshly into the prints he had made. They were there! The pain told her it had happened. One could not imagine pain could they? Bruises were reminders, mementos. So long as their tell-tale colors were present, she had not imagined Erik. Her grip became firmer, digging her fingers into the marks. She gasped sharply at the ache, but welcomed it if it meant she had not conjured the last days. Her eyes began to sting. "Coward!" she accused herself. Trying to make her hands pull apart but lacking the strength.
"Oh god, Christine!" There was the sound of running feet and suddenly her hands were pried gently, but forcefully apart. She looked up, humiliated. But then she saw compassion flaming from green-blue depths.
"Erik," it was the only word that mattered. She spoke his name gratefully, thankful that he was there. Calming as she took in his shape. She reached with the hands he still held, touching him and feeling that he was real.
"Please," he breathed desperately. "Please, Christine, tell me this isn't because of me," his fingers brushed over the marks, making it clear what he spoke about.
She lowered her eyes guiltily. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She didn't want him to find out like this! To appear so weak before Erik seemed unbearable. She pulled her fists back and crossed her arms, wanting to disappear but having nowhere to hide from his piercing stare.
"You have been hurting yourself." It was a statement, not a question. For how could there be any argument when he had discovered the condemning truth? She felt shock when she heard horror color his tone and perhaps fear as well. Her red-rimmed blue eyes glanced up timidly. When had Erik been afraid of anything?
His eyes met hers insistently, "Why, Christine? What have you done to deserve such punishment?"
"I'm…I'm not punishing myself."
He looked at her disbelievingly.
"I swear it, Erik," she said forcefully, her fervor lessoned by the shaking in her voice.
"Then why?" he insisted.
"It's nothing," she whimpered, pulling the sleeves of her gown as though hiding the evidence could end the issue.
"Don't you dare call this 'nothing', Christine," his concern began rising and morphing to anger. Lies were not going to placate him. Not after what he had seen.
"You were gone!" she shouted defensively, shocking them both with the despair in her words.
"I don't understand," he argued. "You must have known I would come back. I will always return to you, Christine," the promise was spoken so sincerely, for a moment she forgot why she had been so afraid.
But only for a moment. "You didn't before," she accused, not daring to look away from his incredulous expression. "You disappeared and…and you didn't come back. It was as though you had never existed at all, as though you truly were a ghost I had conjured of dreams and promises from my father. I was terrified of that," she admitted softly, regretting her words when she realized how pitiful she sounded.
"Terrified of what?"
"That you weren't real and you never existed. That you would forget me," she instinctively traced her bruises. "I believed that- if I remembered, if I could prove you weren't forgotten-," she paused searching his eyes that gave nothing away.
"Yes?" he prodded carefully.
"You would remember as well. I was afraid that when the bruises faded, I would have nothing left of you."
Erik winced. Would he ever be able to atone for the suffering he had inflicted? Even when he attempted what he believed was right, he ended up hurting someone. "You mean to tell me, you have been bruising yourself so you wouldn't lose me?" he asked her quietly.
"Yes, I was so confused, and truthfully I still am. I didn't know whether to miss you or call for you or if I should fear you for what you had done. But you vanished and seemed not to care anymore for me or how greatly your loss had hurt and tormented me," she continued to hold his eyes with her own blue ones, demonstrating a strength and bravery that Erik still found startling in its new appearance. "I wanted to forget you with every thought in my head, but every beat of my heart argued to keep your memory alive. I wasn't sure what that meant, but no matter what I attempted to assure myself that it was best to let you go, I simply could not summon the strength to do so."
"There are my questions, Erik," she suddenly said. "Why did you not come back? Why couldn't you see how lost I was without you?" Her words became angry and frustrated, "Why couldn't I let you go?"
"And here I believed it was obvious," he muttered. But seeing the stricken look cross her face, he continued seriously, "I thought you didn't want me. I abandoned you because I believed that was what you wanted of me. Christine, you practically declared yourself the Vicomte's the very night I frightened you. I felt unworthy of your company and thought you agreed. You speak of hurt and torment as though they are one sided, as though you alone felt such emotions during our separation. All the while I burned watching you give your attention to another man, one far better suited to you than I. I have already confessed why I did not reach out to you and it leads me to wonder why you remained silent and cold as well?"
Christine looked away, thoroughly shamed by the accusation in his voice. He had the truth of it. She had made very little effort to try to the mend the gap between them and when he finally reached out she had been cold and hateful even as he tried to make amends. "I'm afraid it is a sin to want to be with you, Erik," she admitted being more truthful with him than she ever had before. "And can you truly blame me if I was frightened then after all that had transpired?"
Erik felt her words hit him harshly, slicing through his compassion and hitting the despair that had been threatening since he glimpsed his darling Christine hurting herself. It seemed to grow and increase in intensity as she called their relationship a "sin". Pain followed furiously because he already thought his love for her a perverse and wicked desire. Despite the purity of his affections, his love was tarnished and mangled by the hideousness of his face and the garishness in his deeds. He had unwittingly found evidence that his influence over Christine must be a tool of darkness. Why else would she resort to such lengths to simply remember him? "I see," he answered darkly. "I never intended to poison your soul, Christine, or burden you with vices that are not your own. But I apparently have already soiled you in some regard," he took in a shaky breath. Reaching out for her crossed arms, he untangled and drew them apart to better assess the newly worsened damage. Christine resisted only a moment before allowing him.
"I'm so sorry," the words sounded with such passion that Christine glanced up. "Though no apology could ever right this or absolve me of this atrocity I have brought about. You could name a way to gain your forgiveness and I would gladly give it," he declared, staring downward at the purpled expanse of her wrists. When one pulled away he showed no surprise. He expected her to draw back completely at any moment.
Erik started when the softness of a tiny white hand fitted to his unmasked cheek and drew his eyes upward. He fought the instinctive urge to draw away, but reveled in the warmth of her fingers against his skin. "This. Is. Not. Your. Fault," Christine told him slowly, stressing each word as though she could make them true if she said them with enough adamancy. "I never asked you to return, Erik. These are my own fault for trying to deny you. I'm not going to pretend I am decided upon whether or not I can trust you again. But," she paused on the word, not allowing Erik to become discouraged, "I am seeing you more clearly with every question and I am trying to understand." With the last sentence the smallest smile lit her otherwise distressed expression. "However," she continued, "please do not disappear again, Erik."
"Is that truly what frightens you?" he asked, suddenly realizing the implications of what had transpired. "Are you…afraid of losing me?" He felt absurd asking such a question, but despite its unlikelihood, it appeared to be the impetus behind her desperate actions.
"Yes, I am," she answered without hesitation, her large blue eyes filling with fear with only the mention of such a possibility. "I don't believe I could bear it a second time."
"I meant what I said before. I will always return to you, as long as that is what you wish. You can put faith into that promise." They shared a look, both measuring the other with such declarant words in the air. After the moment held too long, Erik interrupted, "We had best see to those bruises."
Before she thought twice about saying such words, Christine asked teasingly "Will you kiss it as father did to make it feel better?" She laughed slightly, attempting to break the serious gravity in the room. But when her blue eyes met with green-blue ones, she abruptly lost her breath for her gaze had encountered two eyes suddenly aflame.
"Is that what you desire? Is that one of your questions?" asked a golden voice made husky, as a cold hand pulled her closer.
Christine lost any will to protest, and even had she the words, she still would not have stopped him.
Erik felt horridly inadequate, afraid he should caress her wrongly, but he could not restrain himself, not when she had let the word "kiss" fall from her lips. Hesitantly, he lifted the same hand he had caressed the night before and brought it gently to his lips. He kissed her slowly, cherishing each individual print with his lips. Christine gasped gently and when he glanced up to witness her response, her eyes were clouded with what appeared to be want.
Unbelievable, she couldn't truly desire him, could she? Erik turned his attention to her other abused wrist, lavishing upon it the same attention as the last. He could feel her pulse leap and stutter beneath his mouth. He let his tongue taste the creaminess of her skin, just once, and the sweetness almost overwhelmed him.
"Erik, please!" she entreated, her voice filled with need.
He drew back to look at her with her cheeks flaming and one hand fluttering against her heart. Erik stood with a secretive smile. "That will do for this morning, Christine," he said softly.
Well, quite a development and a surprise that kind of happened as I wrote. Hope I will hear from all of my wonderful readers and maybe even some new friends.
Please review! Really they are the greatest gift you can give me.
Much love!
~bo-leigh bella
