(Christine)
The silence stretched between them, the tension heavy and vibrating in the air. Christine could hear the dull thud of Erik's heart as it beat within his skeletal frame, the rhythmic beat soothing her strained nerves.
"Christine. Don't you know that I love you? Without you, I have no reason to live. My life has been so devoid of affection, until you came into my life. I've been searching the globe my whole life for a woman to see past my face. It's been so long that I cannot easily accept that you are any different to the rest of your sex." Erik whispered, his wasted cheek pressed tight against the loose curls at Christine's crown, inhaling the intoxicating floral perfume of her soaps, his steady tears trickling over her scalp.
"But you must know that I am. My love for you is eternal, Erik. I might be a child, but my age is insignificant. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life by your side as your wife, kissing you when I desire." Christine twisted in his close embrace, cupping his bare face within her slim hands, her eyes scanning his face and committing each bump and dip to memory, his face no longer holding any fear for her.
"You want to be my wife?" He chocked, his face creasing his pain and confusion and Christine smiled, gently brushing his cheek with the pads of her fingers, marvelling at the unique feel of his skin.
"Of course I do. I would be honoured to be made your wife before the eyes of God." Christine said, her eyes widening as she watched Erik's face contort in disgust.
"Before God? There is no such divine being. He does not exist Christine. He is just another tale to be told young children to keep them meek and mild. If God existed, then he would not have 'blessed' me with this face and then shunned me in my youth and time of need. The great, merciful being of the Bible is a falsity, and illusion." Erik said, his body rigid, and Christine crawled from his lap in horror, her hands pressed to her mouth as she shook her head disbelievingly.
"Do not speak in such a way my love. It pains me to hear you say such blasphemous things. If we do not believe, we have nothing." Christine pleaded, her eyes beseeching Erik to acknowledge the truth of her words and see the faint beacon of light that faith held within the darkness of life.
"I cannot believe Christine. It is lies, but I will not forbid you from your beliefs. I am sorry, but I simply don't feel the same. I will speak no more of this Christine. You words hold no power, but should you wish, we will be joined before your God."
"Thank you Erik. I will not ask much from you, but I will ask that keep your heart open to allow God to enter. No soul, no matter how dark, is lost to him. Have faith Erik, for me." Her wide, innocent eyes beseeched Erik to bend to her will, and with a sigh of resignation, he grasped her small hand within his and pulled her close against his hard body and pressed a kiss to her forehead in answer.
The silence stretched between them once again, shielded in the cocoon of affection. Christine's mind wandered to the future, picturing a small cottage in the country, planting trailing roses under the watchful eye of her husband whilst their children ran in the spacious garden, their plump little legs carrying their eager bodies in the pursuit of amusement. A smile played on her lips, and feeling his gaze upon her, she turned to find Erik watching her curiously.
"What are you thinking, my angel?" Erik asked, and Christine's eyes fell to her lap in embarrassment transfixed by the silken material of her voluminous skirt.
"I was thinking about our future. A little cottage in the country, away from prying eyes ...and our children." She added the later part in a whisper, refusing to meet Erik's predictable expression.
"We cannot have children Christine. They would be horrified by my hideousness. I could not stand to see the fear in their eyes as they shied from my touch. I...I could not love a child Christine." His initial anger faded, the hard flash of his eyes melting to pools of liquid gold with anguish. Christine's lips trembled, and she grasped his cold, clammy hand, pressing it to the silken skin of her plush cheek.
"Do not say that Erik. A child, half you and half me, could never be afraid of you. All a child craves is love, regardless of the physical appearance of their parents. A child will love their parents unconditionally as long as they are loved in return, and you have so much love to give for the right person. You have nothing to be afraid of, I promise you." With nothing but truth in her eyes, she brushed a kiss to his palm, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Never before had she cried so often in so short a time, her heart brimming with so much emotion.
"Christine, I...I cannot give you children." Erik said, burying his face into her curls to hide his shame. Christine moved her head and took his face within her hands, forcing him to look at her.
"What do you mean Erik?"
"I have suffered some terrible things in my life. My body has been beaten, whipped, abused. I have been a morphine and opium addict. I am a corpse Christine, mentally and physically, and I am old."
"I don't understand Erik." Her brow furrowed in confusion, failing to understand the deeper meaning of Erik's subtle words.
"I cannot perform Christine. I have tried, on my own, and...it does not last." Christine's cheeks slowly flooded red as realisation dawned upon her, and she gazed sympathetically at Erik, resting her hand upon his tense thigh.
"Is there nothing that we can do?" She asked, knowing very little about the medical condition, but hoping that some cure existed.
" I don't believe so. I know a lot about herbal remedies, so I will make a tincture for our wedding night, but there are no guarantees that it will work. It is another reason for you to find a younger man Christine. You no longer have any obligations to me, for who could love a corpse?"
"I do. It does not matter to me Erik. I have always dreamt of children, I will not deny it, but my love for you is so much stronger. We can try, but if it does not work, then I will not make me love you any less.
"What did I do to deserve you? My angel." Erik asked rhetorically, and Christine smiled, a true, heart warming smile that lit her face with joy and touched Erik's lips in response. She reclined against his thin frame, her head resting upon his bony shoulder with her legs at an angle to her body. She wrapped her arms tightly around his skeletal waist, inhaling the rich scent of cologne and sweat that caused a wave of light-headedness. Revelling in their acknowledged happiness, the silence was broken by the rumble of Christine's stomach. Blushing, she quickly sat up and pressed her hands to her stomach.
"Oh Christine. I am so sorry. You must be hungry. Please, stay seated. I will go and prepare us some supper." And pressing a kiss to the tip of Christine's nose, Erik walked into the kitchen, and Christine noted with a triumphant smile that Erik didn't stop or glance at the broken remains of his mask, instead walking, head held high, in his natural glory; mask and wig free.
In his absence, her mind began to whirr. As much as she dreamed of having children, her love for Erik was stronger than her maternal instinct and she would insure that his condition would not cause another wedge between them. She would be thankful for whatever happened, for the future rested solely in God's hands, and if he saw fit to bless them with children, then she would be any happier. Whilst deep in thought, her hand wandered to her flat stomach, resting against the flat plane below her ribs, but hurriedly dropped it to her lap when Erik entered carrying a tray with a tall glass of chill lemonade.
"You must be thirsty Christine, and I know you have a penchant for sweet things and I find lemonade most refreshing." Erik said, smiling, and Christine graciously accepted the glass, slowly sipping the cloudy pale yellow liquid, her nose wrinkling at the sharp bitter taste of the lemon.
"I am most sorry Christine. Did I add too much lemon? I tried to follow a recipe, but it was most imbecilic, so I adapted it. Would you rather I try again and make it less bitter?" He asked, reaching for the glass, but Christine shook her head, smiling at the thought of Erik's complete devotion to her tastes and needs.
"No thank you Erik. It is most delicious. I would not wish to trouble you. Thank you for the drink." Christine said, smiling warmly at Erik, and gently squeezed his hand.
"I am most sorry to leave you sitting here alone. Perhaps you would like to read one of the novels from my vast collections of literature. I will leave you to find one whilst I go and prepare you some nourishment." Said he, returning her loving smile.
"Thank you Erik." And placing her glass upon the side-table, she rose and wandered to Erik's bookcase, scanning the spines of the novels until her eyes settled upon one which caught her attention.
'Les Misérables' She muttered to herself, stretching on tip-toes to reach the novel on the top shelf, and slowly pulled it from the shelf, sending a shower of dust raining down upon her head. She coughed, a successions of sneezes racking her slim frame, as she returned to her seat, tucking her feet beneath her.
Time flew as she became absorbed within the world created by the written word upon the page, and it wasn't long until Erik called her. Setting the book aside, she rose and followed his voice, walking into the kitchen to find it transformed. The majority of the candles had been extinguished, with a resplendent candelabra taking pride of place upon the dining table, illuminating the setting of two steaming plates of rich food, a glass of deep ruby wine glittering in the light to the right of her plate, the sweet scent of roses from the scattering of petals filling her nose, along with the mouth-watering scent of lamb.
"Erik, this looks delicious." She muttered, left speechless with the care to which Erik had gone to please her.
"You are worthy, my angel. It was no more than you deserve. Please sit." And standing behind her chair, he pulled the chair out for her and she sat, pulling her chair closer to the table, her mouth salivating in anticipation.
With a shared smile, they began to eat. Mid course, her eyes rose to his and she could sense his hesitation, being so unused to eat bare-faced in company. She grasped his empty hand and linked their fingers, squeezing them reassuringly with a smile on her lips and warm, open eyes, reassuring Erik that he had no need to fear or hide.
They soon finished, and laying her cutlery parallel upon her clean plate, she took a sip of wine, the alcohol rushing to her head.
"That was exquisite Erik. Thank you." Christine said, licking the remaining sauce from her lips as Erik cleared the plates, bustling about the kitchen like a typical woman, and Christine couldn't help but smile.
"I hope that this tempts your sweet taste-buds." Erik said humorously, laying a ramekin of hot chocolate soufflé before Christine, dusted with icing sugar and topped with raspberries.
"Once again Erik, you have dazzled me with your culinary talents." Christine said with a smile, retrieving her spoon and tasting the first mouth-full of warm chocolate goodness. The combination of the chocolate with the raspberries was delicious, sending a shiver down Christine's spine. Several mouthfuls, and the soufflé was finished, much to Christine's annoyance.
"Thank you so much Erik." She said, her eyebrow raising questioningly as Erik abruptly stood and strode from the room, returning a moment later with his hands held behind his back.
"Close your eyes." He breathed, his smooth, sensuous voice gliding over her skin and causing goose-bumps to rise. She followed her instructions; her senses become aware to the rich sweet overwhelming smell of roses. Eyes fluttering open, she was greeted by a bouquet of contrasting deep, rich blood red and pure, snow-white roses, their flowers open except for the scarlet rose in the middle, its petals tight in a bud.
"These are for you." Wordlessly, Christine accepted the bouquet, her eyes wide with wonder, and her eyes raised to Erik, and small smile playing at his lips as she continued to gaze with fascination at the roses.
"Christine. I want you to open the petals of the middle rose." Erik said, his gaze wandering her face, and slowly, silent, with her breath loud in her ears, she opened the petals of the rose to find a ring nestled inside. She gasped. It was beautiful. A simple white gold band encrusted with little diamonds which accentuated the brilliant centre stone, the light dancing off of the fine glittering stones. Drawing the ring from the rose, Erik rose from his seat, and taking the ring from Christine's loose grasp, he slipped it onto the fourth finger of her left hand.
"Christine Daae, my angel, my love, my life. Will you do me the great honour of marrying me?" Erik asked, twisting her chair to face him, and sank onto bended knee before Christine, her hands grasped within his own.
"I will."
So, they're going to be married! A lot was revealed in this chapter, and I know the pace was a bit quick, but hopefully I made it sound at least slightly realistic!
I was reading 'Phantom of the Opera' yesterday, and realised that there was a deeper meaning to the line; "You must know that I am made of death, from head to foot, and it is a corpse who loves you and adores you and will never, never leave you!" Is Leroux trying to tell the reader that Erik is impotent? Anyway, thank you for reading. Please review? :)