Chapter twenty
Christine fell asleep in Erik's arms, both wrapped in the blankets of his bed. Ayesha slept on the piano seat, her voice purring softly and her tail twitching with a dream. The night drifted in to day, but none of them stirred. Christine's breath was in tune with Erik's, their face close to the other's as they continued their dream filled sleep.
A soft knock lifted through the silence, causing Erik to stir. He opened his eyes with a yawn. He noticed Christine and smiled softly. His slender fingers brushed back a few strands of her hair. She stirred but didn't wake. A sigh escaped her and she nestled her head against the pillow.
The knock sounded again, this time a little louder. Erik looked towards the door and felt his heart jump. He had forgotten that Akil was coming. The night with Christine had washed away every other thought from his mind. Erik could only wonder what Akil would think if he saw this scene.
Erik tossed back the blankets of his bed and grabbed his clothes from the floor. He slipped on each article, being careful not to waken Christine. His mind lingered on the events of the night before. Christine never left him. They spent hours talking to each other, slowly falling deeper into the abyss that encased their love. In the height of it all the two ended up in bed together, their raw emotions shinning through yet again.
As Erik pulled on his shirt he heard the door open softly. He ignored it and continued to dress.
"Are you. . . . ."
Erik glanced over his shoulder with a coy smile. Akil was at the door, a shocked look over his face. The Persian regained his composure and disappeared into the main room. Erik finished dressing and left his room in silence, making sure Christine didn't wake.
Akil had settled on one of the couches, a baffled look still on his face. He stood quickly as Erik entered the room, who was slowly fixing his shirt. Erik smiled at him like a child caught doing something wrong. Akil didn't know how to respond. He forced a smile that was far from convincing. His eyes darted from Erik back to his closed bedroom door.
"Good morning!" Erik said, running a hand through his hair. He glanced at the grandfather clock in one of the corners. It was almost seven. Erik smiled. "You're early today. I'm going to make some tea. Would you like some?" Before Akil could answer Erik turned and began to make his way to the kitchen.
"There will be no tea, Erik." Akil hissed.
Erik stopped and turned slowly. His eyes met with Akil's. The two stared at each other. More and more Akil was noticing that Erik appeared more mature than ever. With the changes over the past six months things had changed drastically. Lost hope and his nights spent on his opera. Than the masquerade was upon them and it all changed. It wasn't the finishing of the opera that changed Erik, it was the return of Christine Daae. Akil knew that Erik, somehow, found out about her return before many other people in the Opera Populare.
"What have you done with Mademoiselle Daae?" Akil asked. He felt his soul shudder when he looked into Erik's eyes. They didn't seems to blink or change emotion.
With a frustrated sigh Erik motioned to his room. "She is in there, if you didn't see before. You can look again, but be careful. She may have moved and I don't think she's wearing much." He returned to his original course to the kitchen.
Akil, slightly perplexed, followed his masked friend. "I thought she left last night."
Erik laughed to himself as he poured water into teakettle. "Apparently, my dear friend, you thought wrong. Christine never left my side."
"And what. . . . How. . . ."
The brown eyes looked at Akil from beneath the white mask. They spoke nothing, but turned away. Erik lit a fire and placed the teakettle over the flames. He paused, watching the flames flicker. With a sigh he turned and faced the Persian.
"What?" Erik said angrily. "What do you want to know? The moment you saw me you haven't been able to keep your mind in one place. Ask you damned question so we can be done with this."
Akil swallowed hard. "What did you do to Mademoiselle Daae to make her stay with you? The scene I saw you and her in this morning troubles me."
Erik's eyes grew harsh and hard. "Are you implying that no woman can love me?"
"Now, Erik, I never said that." Akil said, trying to calm Erik's temper.
"No!" Erik growled. "You were implying, Akil. You asked me what I did to Christine. Do you think the only way I can have a woman is if I do something to her? Christine has come to me on her own will. I never threatened or frightened her. Like I told you before, women are fragile creatures. I treat Christine as if she was an angel."
Akil watched Erik, unable to reply. His friend turned back to the kettle and continued to brew his tea. "Christine doesn't seem like a woman who would betray her love. She is bound to Raoul, Erik. The two are to be married in a few months."
Erik closed his eyes tightly and tightened his hands into fists. "Do you think I don't know that?" he said through clenched teeth. He looked at Akil slowly. "Do you know what this is doing to me? I love Christine, Akil. I never felt this way towards anyone in my life. Not even my own mother."
"What?" Akil gasped.
"Christine has told me that she loves." Erik said, forgetting everything. "She wants to be with me. Raoul means nothing to her. I told her that we couldn't be together, and that drove her to tears. Half the night we spoke to each other. I held her in my arms, listening to her speak of her dead father and how much he spoke of an angel of music. Christine honestly believes I am the closest thing to this angel. I'm the closest thing to her father. She loves me as her angel, her father, and her lover."
Akil was silent. Erik's speech had driven him to tears and the masked man turned away. Akil didn't move. He listened to Erik's sobs and let what his friend said sink in. Erik was truly in love with Christine, but it was taking a toll on him. It was tearing him apart.
"Akil?" Erik whispered.
"What?"
Erik looked at his Persian friend. His eyes were glossy from his tears, shaking slightly with fear. "What am I going to do? What can I do? I cannot give Christine a life beyond the opera. Music is all I am. She has to live in the world that has shunned and hated me. I love her, Akil, but love is something that may cost me my life."
Akil took Erik's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He looked into his friend's eyes. "I can help you, Erik. You have helped me before and now I can repay you."
A soft smile crossed Erik's face. "Thank you, Akil."
"You must promise me, though," Akil continued. "that you will return Christine to her dressing room. People will begin to wonder and it will only cause you more danger."
Erik nodded. "I will, if you promise to do me one thing."
"Anything."
"You must go to the finest jeweler in Paris. Have him make a ring with a golden band and a ruby as red as a rose. I only want the best. The price means nothing."
"A ring? What for?"
"A promise, Akil. A promise that I will give and can never take back."
Christine fell asleep in Erik's arms, both wrapped in the blankets of his bed. Ayesha slept on the piano seat, her voice purring softly and her tail twitching with a dream. The night drifted in to day, but none of them stirred. Christine's breath was in tune with Erik's, their face close to the other's as they continued their dream filled sleep.
A soft knock lifted through the silence, causing Erik to stir. He opened his eyes with a yawn. He noticed Christine and smiled softly. His slender fingers brushed back a few strands of her hair. She stirred but didn't wake. A sigh escaped her and she nestled her head against the pillow.
The knock sounded again, this time a little louder. Erik looked towards the door and felt his heart jump. He had forgotten that Akil was coming. The night with Christine had washed away every other thought from his mind. Erik could only wonder what Akil would think if he saw this scene.
Erik tossed back the blankets of his bed and grabbed his clothes from the floor. He slipped on each article, being careful not to waken Christine. His mind lingered on the events of the night before. Christine never left him. They spent hours talking to each other, slowly falling deeper into the abyss that encased their love. In the height of it all the two ended up in bed together, their raw emotions shinning through yet again.
As Erik pulled on his shirt he heard the door open softly. He ignored it and continued to dress.
"Are you. . . . ."
Erik glanced over his shoulder with a coy smile. Akil was at the door, a shocked look over his face. The Persian regained his composure and disappeared into the main room. Erik finished dressing and left his room in silence, making sure Christine didn't wake.
Akil had settled on one of the couches, a baffled look still on his face. He stood quickly as Erik entered the room, who was slowly fixing his shirt. Erik smiled at him like a child caught doing something wrong. Akil didn't know how to respond. He forced a smile that was far from convincing. His eyes darted from Erik back to his closed bedroom door.
"Good morning!" Erik said, running a hand through his hair. He glanced at the grandfather clock in one of the corners. It was almost seven. Erik smiled. "You're early today. I'm going to make some tea. Would you like some?" Before Akil could answer Erik turned and began to make his way to the kitchen.
"There will be no tea, Erik." Akil hissed.
Erik stopped and turned slowly. His eyes met with Akil's. The two stared at each other. More and more Akil was noticing that Erik appeared more mature than ever. With the changes over the past six months things had changed drastically. Lost hope and his nights spent on his opera. Than the masquerade was upon them and it all changed. It wasn't the finishing of the opera that changed Erik, it was the return of Christine Daae. Akil knew that Erik, somehow, found out about her return before many other people in the Opera Populare.
"What have you done with Mademoiselle Daae?" Akil asked. He felt his soul shudder when he looked into Erik's eyes. They didn't seems to blink or change emotion.
With a frustrated sigh Erik motioned to his room. "She is in there, if you didn't see before. You can look again, but be careful. She may have moved and I don't think she's wearing much." He returned to his original course to the kitchen.
Akil, slightly perplexed, followed his masked friend. "I thought she left last night."
Erik laughed to himself as he poured water into teakettle. "Apparently, my dear friend, you thought wrong. Christine never left my side."
"And what. . . . How. . . ."
The brown eyes looked at Akil from beneath the white mask. They spoke nothing, but turned away. Erik lit a fire and placed the teakettle over the flames. He paused, watching the flames flicker. With a sigh he turned and faced the Persian.
"What?" Erik said angrily. "What do you want to know? The moment you saw me you haven't been able to keep your mind in one place. Ask you damned question so we can be done with this."
Akil swallowed hard. "What did you do to Mademoiselle Daae to make her stay with you? The scene I saw you and her in this morning troubles me."
Erik's eyes grew harsh and hard. "Are you implying that no woman can love me?"
"Now, Erik, I never said that." Akil said, trying to calm Erik's temper.
"No!" Erik growled. "You were implying, Akil. You asked me what I did to Christine. Do you think the only way I can have a woman is if I do something to her? Christine has come to me on her own will. I never threatened or frightened her. Like I told you before, women are fragile creatures. I treat Christine as if she was an angel."
Akil watched Erik, unable to reply. His friend turned back to the kettle and continued to brew his tea. "Christine doesn't seem like a woman who would betray her love. She is bound to Raoul, Erik. The two are to be married in a few months."
Erik closed his eyes tightly and tightened his hands into fists. "Do you think I don't know that?" he said through clenched teeth. He looked at Akil slowly. "Do you know what this is doing to me? I love Christine, Akil. I never felt this way towards anyone in my life. Not even my own mother."
"What?" Akil gasped.
"Christine has told me that she loves." Erik said, forgetting everything. "She wants to be with me. Raoul means nothing to her. I told her that we couldn't be together, and that drove her to tears. Half the night we spoke to each other. I held her in my arms, listening to her speak of her dead father and how much he spoke of an angel of music. Christine honestly believes I am the closest thing to this angel. I'm the closest thing to her father. She loves me as her angel, her father, and her lover."
Akil was silent. Erik's speech had driven him to tears and the masked man turned away. Akil didn't move. He listened to Erik's sobs and let what his friend said sink in. Erik was truly in love with Christine, but it was taking a toll on him. It was tearing him apart.
"Akil?" Erik whispered.
"What?"
Erik looked at his Persian friend. His eyes were glossy from his tears, shaking slightly with fear. "What am I going to do? What can I do? I cannot give Christine a life beyond the opera. Music is all I am. She has to live in the world that has shunned and hated me. I love her, Akil, but love is something that may cost me my life."
Akil took Erik's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He looked into his friend's eyes. "I can help you, Erik. You have helped me before and now I can repay you."
A soft smile crossed Erik's face. "Thank you, Akil."
"You must promise me, though," Akil continued. "that you will return Christine to her dressing room. People will begin to wonder and it will only cause you more danger."
Erik nodded. "I will, if you promise to do me one thing."
"Anything."
"You must go to the finest jeweler in Paris. Have him make a ring with a golden band and a ruby as red as a rose. I only want the best. The price means nothing."
"A ring? What for?"
"A promise, Akil. A promise that I will give and can never take back."