He screamed until his voice was raspy and the breath in his lungs had left him. His dove, that gentle, sweet little dove. He stared at the walls of his hell and let the tears roll into his gaping mouth. They were salty, and bitter, and burning. His little dove.
The scars had been deep, and with that painful. His dove, his Eva, the world has been so cruel to both of them. He traced his own lips, remembering the feeling of hers. His sweet Eva, his sweet and tortured Eva. He would make them pay. Whoever had done this to them. Whoever had harmed his beautiful angel.
His body shook and his firm jaws sealed themself in fury. Those silver eyes seemed clouded by twisted, malevolent thoughts. He cherished his ideas of punishment for them, for those sick bastards who dared to touch her. The lips she saw as perfect grinned sickly.
He shook away the pleasure of their torments from his mind. What about her? His angel, somewhere cold, and crying, somewhere feeling ashamed and alone. Not for long, he decided. She would never be alone again. They would never plague her thoughts, and torment her with the memory of their wickedness. He would kill those thoughts, warm her coldness, kiss away her sorrows, write with her sweet music. Marry her.
His feet slid down the hall to every door, ripping them open and calling for his angel. Stopping in hesitation at the last, the swan bed. Each room the same, empty as he once was, before she filled him. The cave felt colder, and he felt sick. Was his dove gone? Had she fled the darkness finally, flown to the garish light? He ran back towards the lake room, towards his organ, towards his nightmares.
He paced the floor, and began to weep again.
Shards of music broke from his sobs.
"No one,
Would listen,
No one but her,
Heard as the outcast hears"
He moaned with each footstep until every noise in his body was trapped, every emotion but panic withheld. There was blood on the floor. On the floor by the lake.
It took no thought or pauses for him to dive into the icy death after her. It wasn't courage, it wasn't love, it wasn't any sort of thought. It was automatic. It was self-preservation. If she was gone, it wouldn't be the same as Christine. This was so completely different; this wasn't infatuation, or lust. This was, in its truest form half of his soul, all the great things he could be. Half of his soul dying in the black coldness it was meant to die in. He was the other half that wouldn't survive.
The frozen water burned him, and he was out of air. His head was hurting, his lips were turning blue. His heart beat was only for her. He should die down here. If he didn't find her he would die down here, Down in the darkness with her before he would ever see the light alone.
A red web caught into his hand, and he dragged it towards him. Her limp body was in his arms. She was angelic with no gravity to press her down, those purple eye lids shining in the dim black sea, the red lips dark. He pulled her to the surface, and gasped for air as he did. She sat still.
He swam for the bank like a hurricane, pushing her body roughly onto the rocky floor. He climbed on top of her frame, his black cloak heavy against both of them. His white hands pressed onto her chest , his mouth pounding air into her lungs, his tears plopping onto her blue lips. He listened to her heart, and whimpered. It wasn't beautiful and beating like birds wings. It was dead.
He pounded, and breathed and sobbed and cradled her. He pressed harder onto her ribcage, and his CPR changed to unreturned kisses. It was so sudden that his future changed. That his world collapsed.
It soon regained itself.
Water poured from her mouth and she was choking on it. He sat stunned and smiling, and acted swiftly as to pull the straggly red threads from her coughing lips. As she gasped for breaths he clasped to her neck, and kissed at her cheeks desperately. He laughed and cried seeing the redness return to them.
Her body shook and she crawled her way from the water edge, she herself sobbing. He frowned and walked after her, lifting her body from the hard floor into his softness. They were soaking, and chilled to the bone.
"E-ee-rik"
She was trembling and shaking, and the word was beautiful all the same from her lips.
He moved their bodies towards the bathroom, hot water streamed into the tub. He sat her down onto the floor, and she began to pull at the ties of her dress immediately, those delicate numb fingers unable to destroy the knots.
The gentleman avoided eye contact. This was something he couldn't help her with.
"Erik, pl-ee-ease"
I guess he would need to.
His own cold fingers were much more tactile against her strings, ripping at them and producing results quickly. Her gown slipped down abruptly, and her bare back was white and inviting. He left the room silently as she lifted herself into the water.
"Wait,"
She had hardly whispered the words, but he ran to them. His figure lay dark and frozen in the doorway.
"You saved me." Her red eyes analyzed him from the tub, the greenness perpetrating his strength.
His mouth was dry, and his skin shook as he stared at the floor. All he could do was nod at her.
She frowned at his discomfort, and began to cough uncontrollably, her throat raw. He was there at her side without a concept of what he was doing, holding her hand for support.
Breath filled her lungs, and she stared at him. It was only because of him she was here, breathing and happy. It was only because of him she could live on after those memories. She smiled.
Panic swept over his face as he scooped the marred half of his face from sight with his hand. He had forgotten his mask. "I'm sorry" His pale cheeks were red, and she kissed them.
She pulled his hand away from his face, and kissed all the calluses on his palm.
He shook at her touch, and continued shaking from the icy draft.
"You're cold," her velvet voice sounded in his ears and he savored each concerned note.
He traced the lines of her sweet face, and grinned softly as he reached her lips. Her eyes closed as she felt his cold mouth press hers. She pulled the buttons of his shirt until his bare chest felt the wafting air.
He watched her, feeling more surprised at each button. How could she even want this? He closed his eyes and stammered, "Wha-," he cleared his throat "what are you doing?"
"You're cold,"
"But-"
"I love you," it was those words that sealed away all clear thinking in his head.
The warm water washed over him and he trembled no longer.
Past the point of no return.
