Tom Odells's 'Another Love'
I wanna take you somewhere so you know I care
But it's so cold and I don't know where
I brought you daffodils in a pretty string
But they won't flower like they did last spring
And I wanna kiss you, make you feel alright
I'm just so tired to share my nights
I wanna cry and I wanna love
But all my tears have been used up
On another love, another love
All my tears have been used up
On another love, another love
All my tears have been used up
On another love, another love
All my tears have been used up
And if somebody hurts you, I wanna fight
But my hands been broken, one too many times
So I'll use my voice, I'll be so fucking rude
Words they always win, but I know I'll lose
Erik was happy to discover he could still be surprised by the little things Christine did. It was her fresh, open personality, so uninhibited and open minded. She saw good in everything, and her spirit was so joyful, that it was no wonder why she constantly had a smile on her face. When Erik had entered the music room, her back had been to him, and she turned slowly, smiling, though she spoke of her father, as she had been humming. Erik had regretted asking, her father was a sore point, but even as she mourned him she still managed to smile. Erik was envious of this man whom he had never met, a man who he would never get to meet, a man who consumed his angel's thoughts in ways that made Erik almost despise the man. It was unfair, Erik thought, that a dead man could hold so much sway over her, but Erik was here, alive and breathing, and every beat of his wicked heart depended on Christine's happiness. If only she could see how much he needed to hear her sing.
Christine had been staring at his hands, looking uneasy, and he realized she had been watching him wring his hands. He had been lost in his own thoughts, too consumed by greed to even understand what he had been doing, and he had looked down at them. They stung, the freshly scrubbed skin that had begun to harden now twisted about and stretched, and he quickly hid his hands from view so Christine would not see. She could very well say his hands did not disturb her, but he would not force her to look at them when he was only making things worse. He tried offering for them to do something different, but Christine insisted on his playing, pulling his hands from around his back and held them gingerly. Erik pulled a face, confused as Christine's hands felt very warm. He pulled his hands away to place them against her cheeks, and she smiled. She was very warm indeed, and Erik was pleased to think that his poor, cold hands would cool her down. He asked if everything was alright, but she only nodded silently. What had come over Christine? She wasn't sick, was she?
She turned away from him, to face the piano, and his hand had managed to drift through her hair and along the back of her neck, and a shiver ran down his back. Her skin was still warm, but Erik couldn't see his fingers, as Christine's ringlets hid them from view. Erik pulled his hand away, and slowly brushed her hair over her right shoulder. Christine had left him a space on his bench to her left, so he would be able to see her face clearly when he played, though he wouldn't be staring at her so directly. His mask would be facing the keys, but he was sure that he would watching her the entire time he played from the corner of his eyes. He sat down, doing exactly that, and he could see that Christine was watching him eagerly. She encouraged him to play whatever he wished, and it took Erik a few minutes to run through his entire collection in his head before he wondered if she would like to hear something other than his music. She might have preferred to listen to something she would know. The only problem with that was that he had no clue as to what she had heard, or what her father had trained her with.
After some careful consideration, he decided that 'Con te Partiro' was a reasonable song to play for her. He would have liked to have sung it for her, no doubt she would be charmed by that thought, but he needed to see how his music made her react before he would unleash the voice upon her. Erik hadn't been able to look at her while he had been playing, he had suddenly turned nervous. She wasn't doing anything, she hadn't touched him, or said a word. He mouthed the words, and blissfully tried to remember Christine's stunned face when they had been at the awards ceremony, and she had heard his music for the first time. He wanted Christine to cheer for him as she had on the night they had met, and Erik carefully opened one eye to look at her.
She was staring out of the window, transfixed by something, breathing deeply as she struggled to stay in her seat. The light that hit her face made her glow, but she looked as though there was something holding her in a fierce grip, and it was only because of polite company that she didn't fidget or complain. She was clutching onto her dress, and each drawn breath sounded so painful, and it was not the reward for his hard work that Erik had hoped. But then, Christine slowly began to raise her head as Erik came to the finishing note, her eyes closing, and Erik watched as he held down the final finishing keys, and Christine opened her lips and sang out the note, her whole body loosening up as she sat straighter, as though someone had taken hold of her head and was slowly lifting her to her feet. She remained in her seat though, and Erik watched her, dumbfounded as tears appeared in her eyes.
Had his music truly touched her? It had been nothing, Erik hadn't even tried his hardest, it hadn't even been his best work, but Christine had felt something, enough to bring her to tears, and enough to make her sing. It was only a single note, but it had been the most exquisite note, so full and clear, like crystal, and Erik wasn't even sure how to react. It still needed training, it was like a diamond that needed to be shaped into perfection, but he needed to hear her sing something else, anything so he could hear exactly where she needed to improve. Christine had said that one day she would sing, but she had also said that she needed time to finish mourning her father. Had playing for her been a mistake? She had been thinking of her father only a few minutes before, and now she was crying.
Christine opened her eyes, her eyes landing on the ceiling, and a look of confusion and panic took over her features. She lowered her head, lost in her own world, the tears in her eyes wounding Erik's heart as she finally looked up at him. She looked so relieved, so calm, as though she had finally seen the light, and Erik recognized the look of freedom in her eyes. She was happy.
She admitted her feelings, and confessed that her father had spoken of him, though not directly. Christine truly believed she belonged to him, and she offered her voice without thought, dedicating herself to him, her teacher.
Oh Christine. Erik thought, closing his eyes with rapture. Were I a man like any other, I would kiss you. You shall sit upon the throne of music and all will envy and love you, Christine. I promise this.
She looked so beautiful, sitting before him, smiling at him. They were in their own world, it was just the two of them as they embraced one another, the whole world outside forgotten, their argument a thing of the past. Erik promised her a thousand songs, each one inspired by her, and Christine smiled as he spoke of each one, listing each of her attributes that he would compose in song, and she had laughed, twisting about in his arms as she joked that no one could write that many songs, and he had pretended to be insulted. If he said he would write a thousand songs, then he would, and he would still have plenty to write about afterwards, as Christine was a neverending source of surprise and delight for him.
He scrambled through his head, looking for anything else that would amuse her, and he jauntily played any tune that crossed his mind, as Christine continued to lean again him, her arms wrapped around his midriff as she watched him play, occasionally commenting on his song choice. She had even commented on his hands, that they were beautiful to watch, thought Erik had brushed off that comment. There was no beauty in him, whatsoever, and why she had chosen to see it in his hands puzzled him to no end. They were disgusting, but she watched them with such a content smile that he was inclined to believe that she meant her words.
Erik asked if she knew how to play the piano, but she shook her head. He carefully took her hand, the softness of her skin against his cracked palms feeling wonderful. She did not flinch, or blink, she simply sat up as she watched him place her hand on the keys on one end of the piano. He adjusted her fingers, pointing them out and naming each key, and he pressed down on each finger, the tips of their fingers touching as he showed her a chord, and he gave in to the thought that Christine was truly made for him.
How could he not believe it? Everything seemed too good to be true. It was like a crazy dream, one he feared he would wake up from.
Christine eagerly kept pressing the keys, keeping to the rhythm he had set for her, and she looked up at him with an adorably proud grin on her face. He smiled back, but sighed with the thought that she would never see him smile. She would never see his eyes, and she would never truly know that he was happy to be with her...
Perhaps it was time for a new mask.
Christine looked up at him, a small, secretive smile on her lips, and Erik hadn't been able to resist the pull of her perfumed skin, and he had buried the mask against her neck, breathing her in. She laughed, wrapping her arms around his mask as she held him to her chest, the mask's chin resting against her sternum, the nose against her jaw as she bowed her head. Her scent was heavenly, and Erik knew it was the mixed smell of her sun lotion and her own natural scent, but it smelled wonderful.
"Erik! That tickles!" She laughed louder, reaching up to hold the mask's curls around the ears.
"Oh? Does it?" He teased, his arm slinking around her body to crawl up her back to hold her steady against him, his other arm rising up to tickle her around her ribs.
Christine tried to sit up straight, realizing what he was about to do, and she held herself away from him as she tried to escape his tickling, one hand trying to support her as she pushed it against his chest, the other resting on his shoulder. She laughed again, but tried to stop as she tried to be serious with him. But it was too late, as Erik's fingers were already prodding her, and she giggled, twisting about as she gasped for air. Erik leaned forward towards her, and her arm gave in, her muscles giving out as she no longer could hold herself away from him, and she collapsed into his body, her chest pressing against his, her arms crumpled up around his neck, her whole body pressed directly against his as her face slammed into his mask.
Erik faltered, very aware that her breasts were settling against his own chest, her stomach almost sinking into his and the hand he had used to tickle her was holding her ribs, only centimeters away from her bosom, right over her heart, where it beat so fast, Erik would have mistaken it for a hummingbird. He felt shame rise up in him, making him turn red as he suddenly grabbed her head and pulled her away, turning her head to look at him so he could see she was okay. She looked dazed, but laughed, reaching up to rub her head pathetically. She closed one eye, and stared at him with the other as she laughed.
"I'm sorry, I-"
"It's okay." She apologized. "We'll get there."
Erik had no clue what Christine meant, but it sounded good. He pointed at the mask foolishly, and mumbled, "The mask..."
He said it as though it was an apology, but he knew that no matter how many times he said sorry, it would not change a thing. Christine looked up at him, and lowered her hand, opening her other eye. She smiled sadly, giving him a very sympathetic look. She looked so crestfallen, but so serious as she looked up at him, and Erik wondered what she was thinking. She opened her mouth to say something, but a song that Erik was not familiar with rang out in the living room, and Christine blinked, turning in her seat to stare at the door.
"That's ... I have to get that!" Christine proclaimed, and scrambled off of the bench, away from Erik before he could say a word.
Christine opened the door, looking very determined, and Erik dumbly followed her, frowning all the while. Christine raced towards her purse, and Erik threw his hands up in confusion, so Nadir could see, who was sitting on the edge of the couch holding out Christine's purse. Nadir gave him a shrug, clearly not privy to anymore information than him. Christine took the purse and searched through it, her bracelet ringing like church bells as the tune continued on. It was quite beautiful, it was a string quartet playing some tune that made Erik think of water, babbling brooks and rushing streams. Christine pulled out her phone and stared at the screen. She paused, and blinked, and then smiled. She pressed some button, putting the phone to her ear, and practically sang, "Raoul!"
Erik would have dropped his jaw if his mask would have let him. Christine said she would sing for no other, and yet this boy managed to make her call his name in a too familiar way!
"Raoul, I've had the most wonderful time, I'm sorry I didn't call you back, it's just been a whirlwind!" Christine said, smiling brightly as she looked up at Erik, rushing through her words. "That and the time zone difference, though that's hardly a good excuse. What time is it there ... Oh good, not too late then."
She laughed, running a hand through her hair as she sat herself down on the couch, leaning back into her seat. Erik sharply looked at Nadir, and hid his frustration quite well, he felt, until Christine laughed again. "Yeah, trust them."
Erik collapsed into the chair facing her, and rested his head against his palm as he rested his elbow on the armrest. He watched Christine, her eyes dancing with some kind of light that he had never seen before as they began talking about what sounded like life back in London. Did Raoul mean so much to her, enough to drive her away from him by making her wistful for London? Erik wanted to close his eyes and think, but he was enchanted by Christine's easy counternance and was forced to watch her smiles that had been caused by another man. Surely he was being foolish? Raoul was her friend, and that was that. That was what she said, and she meant every word, he was sure.
"Yeah, it's pretty brutal here. I need like, a cane or something to hit them away!" Christine joked, and mouthed to Erik, 'The photographers', before Erik could react.
Interruption. That was all the boy was, just another interruption. It was nothing to be so concerned about.
"Oh, Erik's been treating me to ... What?"
Christine paused, listening to whatever Raoul had to say, and her eyes flicked up to the mask suddenly, looking very confused and hesitant. Erik could feel his eye twitch. Of course the boy would ask her if she had seen under the mask. Or maybe he was trying to convince Christine to leave him? Christine said that would never happen, but a part of Erik knew that the boy was right to be so concerned.
"I don't think that's a good idea." She said, and Erik adjusted his head in his hand so he didn't have to look at her.
He spied on Nadir, who was pretending to be on his phone, staring down at it blankly, but Erik could tell he was aware of the entire situation, and Nadir even mouthed, "Wait."
"Um, well, let me ask him." Christine said, and pulled the phone away from her face, placing her hand over the receiver, and said carefully, each word politely spoken, "Raoul would like a chat with you."
Erik looked up with such speed that he was sure he would have broken his neck if he hadn't been so stunned by Christine's words. "With me?"
"Yes. You don't have to, but I would like it if you got on with him. He's my best friend, and it would mean a lot."
"Whatever does he want to speak to me for?" Erik questioned. What right did the boy have to question him as such?
"I dunno, probably just wants to say hi. You are my boyfriend now. You needn't be scared, he's lovely."
"You say that about everyone." Erik said stiffly, a little put off.
"Please, Erik. Just say hi to him. You're going to meet him eventually."
Erik didn't know how to react to that, but he stiffly held his hand out as the idea of talking on the phone seemed a much better option than meeting him face to face. Christine smiled, and handed him the phone. Erik's eyes had been on Christine's face, but now they switched to Nadir as he held the phone up to the mask, and leaned back into the chair.
This was going to be interesting, at least.
Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful! I love reading each and every one! I'm sorry these come out at irregular times, I'm trying to post them when I can!
Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!
