Marjorie wrung out the washcloth and poured the bloody water out of the bowl. She was worried about him. Today had been terribly long for her, she couldn't possibly imagine how tough it must have been for him. What started out as a good day took a turn for the worst. Now he slept in the other room, his arm bandaged tightly. The cut was deep. She couldn't stop the bleeding after he had passed out in her lap. Her dress was stained red, as were her hands.
Carefully, she cleaned off the dried blood that was smeared on his mask. She hoped he wouldn't be upset she had taken it. She was surprised at what was underneath. The other side of his face was horribly disfigured, his skin was cracked and red, part of his skull showed, surrounded by scarred and distorted skin. His cheek seemed torn and badly healed. The side of his nose seemed to almost melt into his face. His eyebrow was sparse and light in comparison to his other thick, dark eyebrow. She wasn't afraid of him in the slightest, though. He had talked about the hatred he received for his face. She couldn't possibly understand how anyone could treat him like that. She still loved him. She didn't know how anyone could be so superficial to hate someone for something they couldn't change or fix.
She wiped her hands off and refilled the bowl with fresh water. He was crying so hard in the cemetery. She cried too. She was so upset, heartbroken for him, that she couldn't hold her tears in either. She wanted to comfort him forever, she would be his moat, protecting him from all of the cruelty of people. It was at this point that she knew she'd never love anyone else as much as she loved him.
She went to grab another wash cloth when she heard a loud crash come from the other room. It made her nearly jump out of her skin. Quickly, she hurried out into the hallway. There were more crashes and the sound of shattering glass. She ran into the main room to find Erik in a blind rage.
Whole bookshelves laid on the floor, their contents spilled precariously all over the room. Shards of glass laid all over the floor which was a mess of music sheets. Erik stood in front of a beautiful gilded mirror. The look on his face was pure abhorrence. She had never seen him so furious, not even when he was in the cemetery. He dove his fist into his reflection and the mirror shattered around him. He fell to his knees in the pile of glass. He held his face in his bloodied hands. "Oh, Marjorie..."
"Erik?"
His body seemed to go rigid. Slowly, he turned to face me. "M-Marjorie?"
She walked over to him, careful not to fall on anything. She was shocked at the mess he made in such a small amount of time. But she wasn't worried about that at all. She was worried about him. His hands shook violently as he gazed up at her.
"You're s-still here?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" She knelt next to him, careful to stay away from the glass.
"Aren't you scared? Or disgusted? I'm a monster, Marjorie. A hideous creature who doesn't deserve to be in the presence of someone as lovely as you. This horrible, ugly gargoyle in the presence of an angel."
She would have been flattered in any other situation, but Erik meant every word he said about himself. Her heart felt like it was breaking for the millionth time that day. "Why would I be afraid of you Erik? This isn't your fault." She placed a hand on his marred cheek and he cringed slightly. "Your face is not a reason why I wouldn't care for you. It's what's in your heart that matters. You face holds no comparison to how an ugly heart would make me feel."
He stared at her through his tears. He was shaking slightly. His mind seemed to be processing everything she had just said very thoroughly. A dark expression formed on his face. "My heart is ugly too."
"I don't think so."
"You don't know me. My heart is a rotten, broken organ. All I do is cause pain. I am a terrible person, Marjorie."
"You don't see your heart the same way I do. You can never know your heart, Erik. No one can know their own heart. But I know I couldn't possibly love a man with a rotten heart."
"You know nothing of my past."
"I don't need to know your past. Your heart is kind now. It doesn't matter how your heart was before." Slowly, she drew herself closer to him. "I love you, Erik, even if you don't believe me. I love every piece of you. Your heart and your face. Nothing could possibly change my feelings for you."
She leaned in then, and kissed his marred cheek, then his smooth cheek. She kissed every inch of his face. She kissed his nose, his forehead, his jaw, his eyelids. She kissed away the tears that rolled down his face. Finally, she kissed his lips. It was different than those first times. This was the purest form of love she had ever known. She loved every piece of Erik. She loved even the darkest corners of his soul. She had no idea how she could possibly leave him.
"Marjorie..."
Her voice was barely above whisper. "Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime," His body shook as he cried in her arms. "Let me lead you from your solitude..."
"Stop. Please."
"Why? What's wrong?"
"I cannot be lied to again. I can't be hurt again. I am already much too in love with you. It will just hurt more when you leave."
"Who said I'm going to leave? I want to spend forever with you, Erik. I love you more than I could ever love anyone else. You are so much like me and you don't even know it."
"I could never be like you, Marjorie. You are pure and lovely and beautiful. You will find a beautiful husband and have beautiful children. You will die a beautiful death at a beautiful old age and you will look beautiful in your coffin. You will be the most beautiful angel in heaven. And maybe, sometimes, you'd think of me and I'd be a bit more beautiful. You are the closest to heaven I'll ever get."
She stared at him, completely perplexed. Beautiful? She wasn't beautiful. Not nearly as beautiful as Christine. Not nearly as beautiful as the other girls she knew. "I don't want to go to heaven if it means being without you for the rest of forever."
"Stop it, Marjorie. I don't need lies for comfort." He was staring at his reflection in the mirror shards.
"I'm not lying, Erik. I love you and I always will. If you don't want to love me back, I understand, but don't think that anything you say will change how I feel. You ended my loneliness. You taught me how to feel again. You kept me from eating away at myself when I was alone with my mind. So don't you dare tell me how to feel."
"What do you know of loneliness?"
"Plenty." She didn't want to hear any more of his self-depreciation. She was not some untouchable being. She had her sins, her poisons of the mind. She had her pains. And she had the voice as well. The voice that only he seemed to silence. He was a morphine to her, taking away the pain. She crashed her lips against his. No one could love him like she did.
