'Twas The Night Before Christmas
A/N: I definitely lied and said I would update again to make up for lost time, but rush is crazy. I just want to sleep and write Phanfiction ugh...
"Erik Lantier." The masked man grumbled as he answered the phone with annoyance.
"Hello Professor Lantier. This is Aaron Gershwin." Erik's eyes widened as he paused in the middle of the microwaveable meals isle. "I take it that you have listened to my audition tape by now." Erik sighed.
"No, I have not." He simply replied, grabbing a couple of packages of dirty rice off of the shelf. "If you are to audition for me, you're to audition for me in person."
"You see Professor Lantier, I'm unable to do that, the reason being that I won't be in town until after the Christmas holiday is over and school is back in session." Erik rolled his eyes. "I don't suppose you take second semester auditions."
"Mr. Gershwin, I assure you that nothing you say to me right now will sway my opinion of you. I don't know how you got my number and frankly, I really don't want to know. I asked Bailey if you were truly related and she said she didn't know you. Whatever game you're playing, it isn't fun for either of us. Please stop calling me. I'm just a teacher." Erik angrily hung up, shoving his phone into his pocket.
He thought back to that conversation with Bailey. She didn't recollect any person in her family named Aaron, let alone a half brother. Erik tried doing research on the man, but nothing came up that was useful. He was much too old to be a high school student, but he looked too young to be related to Bailey. Sooner, hopefully rather than later, Erik was determined to find out who he was and why he was so interested in his class. Surely, it wasn't his class that he was after, but it was a good place to start. He knew about the accident and that churned Erik's stomach. It made Erik weak to think that a stranger knew about the fire. It led Erik to believe that Aaron was there when the fire happened, but that idea was far fetched. For now, microwave meals was his top priority.
"Did you find everything okay?" The clerk spoke clearly as she smiled at Erik, ringing up the remaining items.
"Yes I did, thank you." Erik pulled out his wallet, glancing down at the various foods he bought.
"Your total is $27.61 and will that be debit or credit?" Erik handed the woman thirty dollars. "Alright sir, thank you for choosing Trader Joes. Have a Merry Christmas!" Erik nodded politely and grabbed his three bags of groceries.
The California air was brisk, but not cold. He was thankful for that. Unlocking his trunk, he gently placed the bags down, not remembering which bag carried the eggs. Suddenly, his phone began to vibrate. He sighed once more, hoping and praying to numerous Greek and Roman gods that it wasn't Aaron Gershwin.
"Erik Lantier." Erik closed the trunk of his car and hopped in the front seat.
"Hi there, teacher." Christine's perky voice echoed lightly on the other line. "How are you?"
"I'm good, kitten. How are you?" Erik's heart swelled ten times larger at the sound of her voice.
"I'm fine! Do you have any plans tonight? It's Christmas Eve, you know." Erik glanced around at the obnoxious Christmas decorum.
"Yes and tomorrow is my kitten's birthday." Christine giggled, blushing deeply at his smooth words. "Santa got you a couple of gifts. You still believe in Santa, right?"
"Only if Satan is about six foot three - four, has dark hair, and wears a white porcelain mask." Erik smiled at her flirty remark as he started his car. "In any case, are you going to come over tomorrow?"
"I wouldn't miss Christmas Day with you for the world, kitten. I owe you one very special dance." Christine was blushing even harder, if that was even possible. "I have to go run some errands, kitten. I'll call you tonight."
"Bye, teacher." Her voice was quiet. She hated goodbyes.
"Christine." Erik spoke tenderly, his voice almost broken.
"Yes, teacher?" Her tone was hopeful. She wished with everything she could that he wouldn't have to leave her.
"I love you."
Meg sprawled out onto the purple couch, André laying on her stomach. Once a week, Christine would bring herself and André over to Meg's apartment for a play date. Meg's cat, Piangi, was black and white - equally as overweight. These were some of Christine's favorite days, the ones spent with Piangi, Meg, and André. Escaping away with Meg had always been Christine's favorite. After ballet practice, Christine would hide away with Meg for an hour or two. That was until Christine's dad would find her and drag back home. A memory she would gladly forget.
"Christine, what are your plans for Christmas?" Christine shrugged her shoulders as she plopped down in front of the TV.
"I'm probably just going to stay at home." Meg tilted her head. "What about you? Are you driving home?"
"Yeah, I'm going home for Christmas. You should come with me. I could always use a buddy in the car." Christine smiled.
"Yes, but you need someone to watch Piangi. Really, I'm fine." Christine's phone began to ring loudly, permeating the room. Meg grabbed the phone off of the table, glancing down at the screen. Her eyes widened. "What?" Christine's eyes filled with confusion. Meg dropped the phone onto the ground, her face turned to bewilderment.
"W-Why..." Meg mumbled as the phone continued to ring. Christine slowly rose to her feet, walking over to her phone. Bending down, Christine's eyes landed on the screen, finally illuminating Meg's reason for horror.
"Meg, it's not what you think!" Christine let the phone run to voicemail. "Meg, please, let me explain." Meg stumbled backwards and away from the curly headed ballerina in caution. "Meg, please."
"Christine, no! Get away and get out of my apartment!" Meg screamed at the curly haired dancer, her hands shaking with terror. "You... You!" She couldn't form words. "Why, Christine? Why?" She shouted again. "You're..." Meg's breathing was shallow, her eyes pleading for an explanation.
"I'm what? A slut? A whore? I'm easy? What am I, Meg? Tell me, goddamnit!" Christine was crying now, her eyes burning with salty tears, her voice cracking with a brokenness only Meg could comprehend. Meg sighed. "It's not w-what you t-think, Meg... I s-swear..."
"Christine..." Christine's knees fell beneath her as she fell to the couch, her body emotionally drained of itself. Christine buried her ashamed face into her quavering hands. André took notice of his owner's emotional state as he nudged at Christine's side with a soft mew. "Christine, I don't think you're a whore or a slut."
"Yes you do, it's okay..." Christine coddled her fat cat as he purred comfortingly in her arms, her tears dripping down onto his spotted fur.
"No, I don't. I never have and I never will, Christine." Meg took a seat in front of Christine on top of the coffee table, just as defeated. "I was just startled, that's all... Christine, you can't possibly be failing that class. You scored a five on the AP exam and you always do well on his tests. You're never one to skip a homework assignment and you're willing to help out the teacher by tutoring de Chagny and his dull brain." Meg was truly befuddled by Christine's situation, her choices.
"Meg, you have to understand something." Christine looked up from the burrows of her palms. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were plush. Meg almost felt sorry for her. "I'm not with Erik for a good grade or because I'm failing his class. I'm with Erik, because I love him." Meg's bright blue eyes widened, her jaw slightly dropping as Christine spoke the forbidden words.
"Love? You love that guy? Do you even know him, Christine? He's our teacher!" Meg was shouting again. "He's engaged and he's about twenty years older than us!" Meg's hands flew up in anger as they flailed about the room. Christine remained silent. "Christine, he can get in some serious trouble for banging a student-"
"Yes, he is our teacher, but he's also a great composer, a virtuoso. He isn't banging a student!" Christine stood to meet Meg's furious gaze. If one thing was certain, Christine wasn't afraid of Meg. "He's not engaged anymore and he's only fifteen years older than me as of TOMORROW!" Christine felt like slapping Meg, maybe that would put some sense into her. "I love him and he loves me."
"Do you actually hear yourself right now? You sound like a thirteen year old girl, Christine. This is college, this is serious shit!" Christine turned on her heel and headed to Meg's bedroom. She could hear footsteps behind her. "Love is not going to solve the problem you've put him in, the problem you've put yourself in, Christine!"
"And yelling at me is?" Meg's nostrils flared as Christine stared down the blue eyed devil. "You don't know anything about us."
"Does he know about your dad?" Christine's bones tightened, her blood curling.
"Yes." Meg tilted her head in skepticism. "I even took him to my childhood home."
"Does he know about your step mother?" Christine nodded confidently, folding her arms in front of her chest. Meg scoffed at Christine's faux-confidence. "What about the chains and abuse?"
"You can keep questioning me, but I'm just going to keep telling you that he knows everything." Meg rolled her eyes as Christine smiled obnoxiously. Childish, really.
While Christine was distracted with boasting her and Erik's trust, Meg took the opportunity to grab Christine's bag. Running to the living room, she dumped the contents on the couch. She scanned the items as Christine ran in behind her, shouting obscenities. Meg was always faster than Christine. Meg ran track in high school and was a sprinter, always earning the green monster called envy from Christine.
"What the fuck?" Christine shrieked at Meg. "Give my bag back right now!"
"Why the fuck do you have all this cover up makeup, Christine?" Meg held up maybe seven little jars of liquid cover up, shoving them in Christine's face. Meg was furious with Christine like the curly haired girl had never seen.
Meg was always the calm one, the person to ease the other's mind. Meg's touch was tender, her voice like silk. After ballet practice, Christine would rest her head on Meg's lap. She always found comfort while Meg ran her feathery fingers through Christine's matter curls. Meg was kind to Christine, she never shouted or blamed Christine. Meg understood that Christine's father was bad and that he did bad things. Meg was the one to tell her mother about Christine's dad and somehow three years later, Christine was off to live with her step-mother. Meg was Christine's constant angel and she would never be able to repay her.
"What the hell are you trying to cover up, Christine?" The curly haired ballerina rapidly started shaking her head, her tears filling the corners of her eyes.
"Nothing, absolutely n-nothing." She stuttered out, her eyes falling to the ground. Meg sighed. "I just like t-that brand o-of makeup a lot..."
"Christine..." Meg's voice had turned soft, the voice that Christine knew so well. "Christine, you know you can tell me anything..." Meg brought Christine into her arms, embracing her shaking body tightly. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Christine. It just took me by surprise. It's something I'll have to get used to, you know?" Christine was silent. "If Professor Lant- Erik... Makes you happy, then I want to be happy with you. I always want you to be happy." Christine wiped the remnants of her heated tears with the back of her hands. She could feel Meg's sincerity.
"He doesn't know about the scars..."
Meg knew that Christine was self conscious about the markings her father left her with, the scars being the only things to remember him by with great antipathy. The blonde led Christine to the small pink bathroom, gesturing for Christine to sit on the toilet. Meg began to rummage under the sink for a wash cloth. Once equipped with a cloth, she ran some warm water and applied soap to the material. Kneeling on the cold tile, she placed Christine's ankle in her delicate hands and began washing away the flesh colored makeup. The harsh scars were soon revealed as Meg continually rubbed off the makeup, moving up and down Christine's leg. The blonde dare not move any further as Christine buried her face in shame. Meg threw the cloth over the side of the tub and washed her hands and kneeled in front of Christine once more. The brunette was trembling. Meg gently tore her shaking hands from her face, grasping her quivering hands in hers. It was as if they were ten years old again and ballet class had just been let out, the two of them standing alone e in the back alley waiting for Meg's mother to bring Christine some form of something edible. Christine was skinny, bony. Her fingers lanky and her fingernails filled with dirt. Her curls were matted together, her ribs were poking through, and her lips were so chapped that they bled profusely. Meg wondered about Christine the day she walked through the studio doors. Christine told Meg that she convinced her father that she was at a special place where girls meet men. That was the only place her father would have let her run off to, that's what she told Meg and Meg's mother. She found the dance studio on her way to the doctor's one day when she began coughing up blood. Christine had read in a book that one of the character's was coughing up blood and later that character died. Christine did not want to die, not then and not now.
"Oh love, I promise that if he loves you, he'll love every scar and every mark." Meg smiled softly as she moved a wisp of hair behind Christine's ear, her bright blue eyes glimmering down at Christine. "Trust me. You trust me, right?" The curly haired ballerina grinned as her heart swelled. The warmth returned to her body as she embraced her friend - her sister.
"I trust you, I always have and always will."
Christmas Day
Erik's eyes slowly opened as he rolled onto his back, the cool air hitting his face. He groaned immensely at the soreness of his back. He was getting older. The bare walls of his new apartment welcomed him as he sat up on Christmas morning, yawning loudly to permeate the crisp air. Erik thought about the day ahead of him and all the things he needed to accomplish before heading over to Christine's apartment. Rubbing his eyes, Erik finally stood to his feet and stretched his body. The cracking of his bones was more than disconcerting to the unmasked man. Erik walked over to his bathroom, trying to list off the items he had bought for Christine, making certain he bought everything he needed. Erik had a feeling he was missing something and he did not enjoy that feeling.
"Merry Christmas, teacher." Christine's perky voice bounced off of her apartment walls as she wrapped her arms around Erik's neck in an embrace of welcome. "I missed you." Her green eyes illuminated Erik's world as he placed a chaste kiss on her nose. The teacher took off his coat and placed it on her coat hook while she walked into the kitchen, grabbing two cusp of eggnog. His eyes never left her petite figure. "Spiked or not spiked?"
"Christine, you're not even twenty one," Erik sighed as he glided over to his muse. "But you are nineteen." From behind his back, Erik pulled out a tiny red box, tied with a black string. Christine's eyes lit up even more as she put down the bottle of vodka. Erik couldn't help, but let out an airy chuckle. "Happy-Merry Birthday-Christmas."
"Erik..." The masked man handed Christine the gift as she delicately pulled at the black ribbon. She put aside the ribbon. She loved ribbon. Erik watched her carefully as she opened the red box, her eyes centered on present. As Christine opened gift, her nimble fingers revealed a brand new slate gray iPod nano. She smiled so widely the bottom row of her teeth made an appearance. "Oh, Erik! This is amazing, you shouldn't have spent so much money on me... I can't believe you would buy me such an amazing gift!" Christine was so embarrassed that she had started to cry. "This is the nicest gift anyone has ever given me..."
"Kitten, no, don't cry." Erik grabbed the iPod and placed it on the desk, taking Christine in his arms. She was shaking. "It's nothing, really. I wanted you to have something to put all your music on, something you can have all your dance routine music on, you know..." Erik had trailed off into endless possibilities for a new iPod. Erik cupped Christine's trembling face in his hands, wiping her tears with his thumbs. "Christine..."
"Y-Yes..."
"Do you want to know the real reason as to why I got you an iPod?" Christine tilted her head in confusion, sniffling back her tears.
"I guess?" She spoke confusedly. Erik only smile widely.
"Well, your Christmas waltz is on your iPod, the one I composed... Just for you." Slowly, a giant grin appeared on her face, a blush so deep that it warmed Erik's bones. Holding out his hand, Erik bowed and smiled again. Christine placed her hand in his as they walked over to the middle of the room. Erik quickly placed the iPod in her speakers, pressing play. He made his way back to Christine and held his hand out once again. She was going to cry again, but she didn't care. He didn't care either. They were in euphoria. "May I have this dance, Mademoiselle Daaé?"
"Thank you for a perfect Christmas, Erik." Christine mumbled as she drifted in and out of sleep, her body pressed against his.
"It wouldn't have been perfect without you, truly Christine." The unmasked man looked up at the ceiling, his arms behind his head. "I love you."
"I love you more." Christine purred against the flesh of his neck. Suddenly, the student sat up, her hair going awry. "Oh my god!"
"What?" Erik looked like he had just seen a ghost. "What's wrong?" Christine bent over Erik and scrummaged through the bedside table drawer.
"I forgot about your Christmas present!" Erik sighed of relief. "It's something small, but I really hope you like it."
"Christine, you didn't have to get me anything." Erik said while he glanced at Christine who was still searching in the dark. He wondered why she hadn't invested in a lamp or even a flashlight. "I didn't want you to spend money on me."
"You got me three gifts, Erik. I think it's only fair that I bought you one." Christine finally grabbed what she wanted and set it on the bed. Hopping off the bed, she ran around the room, lighting some candles. "I'm sorry, I don't have a lamp. Electric bills are expensive as is."
"Christine, this present is about fifty pounds in weight..." Erik groaned as he lifted the gift in his lap. "What is it?"
"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise!" Christine finally sat down on the bed again beside her teacher. "It's really two presents, but I was too lazy to wrap them separately."
"Okay, okay." Erik began to unwrap them, inspecting them meticulously. His eyes grew wide at the first gift. "Holy..."
"Do you like it?" Christine smiled hopefully as Erik's mouth was agape. "Erik?" He was silent.
"C-Christine..." Erik muttered under his breath. "How did you get t-this?" Christine shrugged her shoulders. "This is one of the first editions of The Phantom of The Opera's... In the original French text..." Erik breathed out, absolutely floored. "This must have cost you... S-So... Much..."
"That doesn't matter, Erik. What matters is if you like it or not!" Erik's eyes gradually met with Christine's candlelit gaze. "Do you like it?"
"I love you, so much... This means so much to me, Christine. I don't think you know how much you mean to me with or without this gift, Christine. I love you, oh god, I love you!" Christine blushed deeply as Erik leaned forward, placing kisses up and down her neck. Christine giggled as Erik's stubbled tickled her skin.
"Erik! Erik, teacher! Erik, open the other gift!" Christine kissed Erik softly, pushing the second gift onto his lap. Erik groaned in detestation. Finally obliging, Erik hastily opened the second gift, only to have the same reaction. "Do you like this one too?"
"Christine, you spoil me..." Erik's eyes scanned the empty leather bound book of empty pages of sheet music. His initials were engraved in the bottom right corner, the word, 'Compositions,' engraved in the center on the front. "Christine, this is beautiful." Erik's fingertips grazed the markings as he flipped through the empty pages, just imagining the brilliance that could fill it.
"This is for your new compositions that could be, maestro. Let your fantasies unwind on these pages, Erik." Christine closed the space between them, wrapping her arms around his neck. She inhaled his scent and connected her lips to his in a feverish kiss. She longed to taste him, his lips that spoke such sweet words.
"I love you, Christine." Erik momentarily pulled away, his breath seething down the flesh of her throat, his fingers digging into her small of her back. Pushing his body down, Christine made herself comfortable on his torso, her legs on either side of him.
"I love you too, Erik, always." Christine leaned down, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. Her teeth nipped at his skin, their fingers intertwining in a joining that electrified Christine down her spine. "Be mine." She whispered, her forehead pressed to his, their lips so close they graze each other in teasing kiss.
"I am yours." Christine smiled against his lips, her kiss passionate as his hands found her hair, pushing the kiss further, their tongues battling for dominance in a heated dance. She never wanted to leave and he was never going to allow it.
"I have to show you something Erik." Christine paused, knowing that she had to tell him the truth.
"Hmmmm, what is it kitten?" Erik hummed against her skin.
"Will you still love me?" Christine choked out the words like a kicked puppy, her gaze averted to Erik's chest.
"Christine? What are you talking about? Of course I'll still-"
The room fell to an absolute silence.
a/n: I have the worst headache.
anyway. I'm sorry for the delay.
here is a longish chapter.
taking a mini-break from this phanfic this weekend to update my other two. :) just for a couple of days. anyway. I love you. thank you for reading and hopefully reviewing. I love you. goodnight.