As her skin turned ghostly white, he said so.
When Christine's eyes began to glow faintly in the darkness, he said so.
As she began to shrink away from other people on the street, he said so.
When she began to sleep in the day and work in the night, he said so.
As she started to sing better, he said so.
They had been having lessons in their spare time, with obvious results. Christine's syrupy voice had been fine-tuned, the sugar in it grinded smoother, until she sang like an angel. He valued her opinion with the ultimate respect: when she said something about Don Juan Triumphant should be changed, he did so.
And that was another thing. He had recruited her to work with him on Don, and instantly, when she did, you could see the barrier between the Before Christine music and the After Christine music. The songs that she and him composed were light and sweet, the incarnate of a child's soul. The music before was dark and passionate, sounding more like sobbing then of the organ's piping cries.
Christine ate with Erik all the time now. He was staying home more often, possibly because there was more to do now. He had, in fact, taken a fondness to ice-cream; it was served with every meal.
Not once had either mentioned the 'mask episode'. It seemed better to forget it and move on. But, Christine could never forget that horrible face, and she thought she never would. In the first months after the unmasking, she had recoiled when Erik touched her, and winced when he complimented her. He had told her one-day she might get used to it, and, strangely, she half-believed him. But why did she have to be the one getting used to something?
Christine now didn't recoil form him nor wince when he spoke- but she knew, if he took off the mask again, the illusion of happiness would be shattered.
On the seventh, Erik woke her up by sitting right next to her small body on the bed and leaning over her, and then repeatedly saying 'Happy Birthday' so that she could wake up to his voice and hear the message. She smiled up at the white face, and, surprising even herself, used her elbows to raise herself up and kissed a white cheek.
Now, one does know that Erik hated having to wear a mask. But, because he couldn't feel Christine's small lips on his twisted cheek, he began to loath the cupping white mask. He was almost tempted to take it off and beckon her to kiss him again, but he dared not to, not with their faces so close.
Maybe tomorrow?
Anyway, they both got up and then, shockingly, Erik presented her with a dress. It wasn't the fact that it was gorgeous that surprised Christine; no, it was more the fact that it was so black! Not like the fiery clothes that he usually presented her, no, not at all! It was soft and dark, with the top part of it being velvet, which went all the way to her waist, then ended as a V. The back of the top part was smooth and dipped into the curve of her back. The skirt, which started at the V, was a shade lighter black, and resembled a rose turned upside down. Christine told Erik to leave so that she could dress; though- once the material was covering all that needed to be covered she let him come back in to help her. Once the dress was snug to her shoulders and the skirt fluffed out a bit, she finally asked him what time it was. He said 10 o'clock in the evening, which did explain why he was wearing evening wear.
Erik had on long, crisp black pants with a lighter forest green shirt, and had a silver tie tucked into the shirt. A long black tailcoat covered all of this, accompanied with a dark felt hat. He even had a cane in his hand made of smooth mahogany wood, with a silver skull on the top of it.
When she asked why a bit of rope was hanging out of one of his pockets, all Erik said was that it was their defense mechanism. She shrugged, and followed him into the tunnels, feeling odd about leaving their cloaks behind.
To Christine's pleasure, they actually went to see the lake by the house, and she got to see the front of the house. It was nothing more then a wall with a door.
It was a great, glittering shadow of a lake, with dark water and no ripples on it, but it was a lake! "Will you teach me how to swim sometimes, Erik?" Christine asked as he helped her onto a boat. He seated her and then stood behind her, rowing with a long wooden paddle. Once they were half way across the lake, which was still calm and inky black, Erik said, "Possibly, dear Christine."
Christine grinned, and rested her back and head on his shins. It was the passing of a year that made her more affectionate to him, and that it was their anniversary: He had adopted her when she was six years old, March seventh last year. Her heart was full of adoration for her angel, which might one day actually turn to love like he had said. Possibly.
Once across the lake, Erik took Christine's hand and led her through a labyrinth of dark tunnels. All she had for comfort was the sunny glow of his golden eyes. He offered to carry her, but she declined, saying she didn't get to walk around much. Erik fell into a guilty silence.
Erik stopped, and then said in a quiet voice, "This is a ladder which leads to Box Five of the opera house. Tonight they are playing a collection of Roman and Greek myths, which I thought was fitting for you. You will sit on first chair in the first isle. I'll be there, but you won't see me for a while- understood?"
How Erik could see her nodding in the darkness she never knew.
"I will got first and sit on the ground beside the top of the ladder. Climb up to my eyes." He scaled the ladder with ease, barely taking a moment before she saw his golden eyes on top of what must be the wall. She put a hand to the stone, and felt around until she found deep holes in it for her feet. She climbed up slowly, never taking her eyes off his eyes. Once she was at the last step, Erik helped her up and both stood. Christine trembled slightly; she had just climbed a ladder she couldn't see, which perplexes the mind greatly.
He walked her over to a door, her black slippers and his black dress shoes making no noise. Erik opened it, revealing that it was the entrance to Box Five. She walked into slowly, looking nervously from side to side. Had Erik bought tickets for them, or were they just going to slip in and out? Christine turned to see if Erik would follow her, but both him and the door were gone. With a small smile, she sighed, and went to the first row to sit in the first chair, where a red rose with a black ribbon tied around it had been placed.
The Opera Populaire was a truly beautiful opera house. It had gold statues dripping off the walls, marble pillars, and elegant velvet red seats. The stage was framed with a big curtain that would fall during intermission, and above it was a wooden maze with stage crew as mice.
Christine fell into a rapt quiet, her emerald eyes wide. She had never seen an opera before! The first thing being performed was what the announcer announced to be The Creation of the World. It was Roman, she knew that, because she knew in Rome that the god Jupiter was supreme, and in Greek Zeus was. Here, Jupiter's father tried to eat him, but his mother instead threw a rock down his throat. Giggling, Christine stared as the next play went on, then the next.
Finally, one was announced to be Eros and Physce. When that was announced, Christine felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking to her side, she saw a pair of glowing gold eyes to the left of her, sitting in the second seat on the first row.
She smiled shyly, and turned to watch the opera.
Eros turned out to be a forever-young boy, the son of Venus, the goddess of love, and Mars, the god of war. He was the god of love himself, equipped with a bow and quiver of arrows. Eros told his mom how much he loved her (This earned a respectful laugh from he crowd) and then went outside- his mother had told him to use a golden love arrow on a girl named Physce so to make her fall in love with a monster, and then do the same to the monster.
Once outside, he saw a small girl, who was very… pretty. Christine felt an odd bit of jealousy, but then Erik put his hand on her's and whispered, "You are still more beautiful then Venus herself." The compliment made Christine blush in the darkness, and she had the faintest suspicion that he could see it.
'My name is Eros', the boy sang. The girl looked up, and then jumped backwards. 'I am Physce.' She sang.
'You are the girl that my mother hates, for you are the prettiest mortal girl, yes?'
"Not true," Erik whispered into Christine's ear, his voice quiet and pained. He found comfort in Christine, for he held her hand tight.
'Yes, I am the one that Venus hates.' Physce sighed.
'Mother told me to make you fall in love with a monster-' The rest of Eros' words were drowned out, for Erik began sobbing. Christine looked at his watery gold eyes, frightened, and then she glanced around. Box Five was empty, except for them.
"Erik! What's wrong?" She whispered, turning away from the opera so that she could attend to him. His great black shoulders shook and he let out a rattling breath. It seemed like he was choking under the mask! Her movement unregistered in her mind, Christine put her fingers under the mask and flicked it off.
For a second, Erik did nothing but look at her with glossy, glowing eyes. Then he began to cry even harder, tears rolling down his charred cheeks- but, in the darkness, Christine could barely see his face, and all that she did see was, in fact, his cheeks; the only reason she did see them was because of his eyes, which were like candles held up to his face, sending light across his red skin.
"Erik!" She repeated, and put a shaky hand on the side of his head. It made her skin crawl, the feeling of his cold, dead flesh against hers, but she made herself not think about what she was feeling.
"I'm sorry Christine!" He cried, voice louder then it should've been. Her hand went to his mouth, shushing him. Instantly, this calmed him. He relaxed a bit, and Christine let go off his mouth, one hand still holding his securely, and one hand wiping tears off his deformed cheeks.
"The End! Next act- Remus and Romulus!" The peppy voice of the announcer echoed around the opera house walls.
Erik was talking to himself quietly. "She's Eros, she's Physce, and who am I? I'm the monster!" Once his crying turned to sniffles, Christine said, "Oh, Erik. I get it now." And she did; their story was like some sort of twisted tale of Eros and Physce. She had heard the gist of the rest of the play: Eros falls in love with Physce, and pretends he is the monster she is to love and sees her only in the dark so that she would figure out who he is. Then, one day, as Eros sleeps, Physce goes over to him with a candle to see whom she loves. Of course, she expects a monster, so she is surprised when she sees Eros instead. A bit of wax falls of her candle, and burns Eros, making him wake up. He runs away then. Of course, in the end, Physce and Eros get married…
And the monster? He gets nothing.
"Erik, lets go back home." When he didn't move, she lied, "I'm tired. You woke me up, remember? Maybe tonight we can have some ice cream and you can tell me a story, or maybe show me a card trick or two. Or, maybe, you could teach me the card trick! That would be splendid, wouldn't it, Erik? Erik? Are you listening? Oh, Erik, we shouldn't have come. I'm sorry." Christine made herself stop talking, and stood. She smoothed her skirt, then took Erik's hand once more, and used all her strength to try to get him out of the chair. Even though she hadn't succeeded in getting him up herself, it must have been some encouragement, for he stood, and straightened his felt hat.
He paused, and then went on a short search for his mask. When Christine flicked it off, it had propelled itself behind the fourth chair in the second row. With the lights coming back on due to the candles on the chandelier being lit again, Erik put back on his mask, and they left the opera house- Eros and the Monster.
She sat on the top of his coffin (It made a nice bench with the lid down) and ate the ice-cream in silence, the red curtains around the wooden coffin pulled back so that she could see Erik, whom sat by his own, personal organ. He had shown her his room when they had gotten home; it was large and draped with black, with a large stave of music with the notes of the Dies Irae against said drapes. Erik had refused to eat anymore, and he could see that he was itching to make her go to bed so that he could add another song to Don Juan Triumphant.
Christine put the tiny crystal cup in which the cold chocolate concoction had been in on the lid beside her, then slid off the 'bench'. She walked over and kissed Erik's masked white cheek, and then went to the door. He had also shown her how to get to his room from her, in case of an emergency- it had opened her world up by a little. Now she could travel to the dining room, the room at the end of the hallways, her room, and his, whenever she wanted too.
"Wait, Christine!" Erik called out to her before she slipped through the doorway. She looked over her shoulder, rubbing her eyes slightly from tiredness.
"Good night." He said broodingly, and he turned around, placing his fingers on the ivory keys.
This time, it was Christine who called the other. "Erik, can I sleep here tonight? I'd like to hear the music. Maybe in the," She gulped, eyes flicking over to it, "the coffin?"
She could see his mask move slightly as he raised his brow. "The coffin, dearest?"
She nodded, and closed the door. Taking small steps, she went over and opened the red curtain again. Erik followed her just as timidly, watching warily as Christine climbed up and into the wooden casket. "It's not that comfortable." He added, shyly, and for a moment it seemed like Christine was the elder and he was the child.
"I don't mind. Just play." She spoke sternly, and they both smiled slightly before he dropped the red curtain. Darkness enveloped her, but it did not unleash any fear in her chest; the small envelope of darkness was warm, even if the coffin wasn't.
She decided to leave the top open, wary that she might suffocate herself if she closed it, smothered in Erik's bed of choice for all of eternity.
Christine Daae, now a girl just paddling into her seventh year, waited as she heard Erik's footsteps over to the organ, and then the sound of him sitting down.
"Would you like any words in it, dear Christine?" He asked before he started.
Christine put little thought into it. "Words." She answered solidly.
"Sleep young child, close your eyes, don't worry about the stars in the sky… tonight, tonight, sleep and be still- in the darkness, all is tranquil… as the cat moves in for the kill…"
(The
title of this chapter is a bad pun :D Who here has seen
Homestarrunner(dot)com? Well, they have strongbad emails, and well,
pretty much, he was talking about how someone got arrow'd. I had to do
Ero'd myself... since you pronounce Ero like an Arrow... becuase he
uses arrows... um... lol? I'm updating for my dearest rapidfangirl67,
who told me too. Loyally- Lux)
