I wrote this chapter, had it ready to post, then made the mistake of reading it again. This led to hours of editing, reconsidering, and hitting my head against the wall with uncertainty. I could not stop editing it and thinking about different ways for this to go down. Long story short-I am sorry it is late and here is my 'f*** it' version. Hope you enjoy! Also, thank you to all of you who reviewed to let me know that the last chapters were up!
Chapter 38: Forbidden Fruit
If it wasn't for Fazia, they never would have escaped. The second Erik collapsed, Nadir and Darius ran to his side. They carried him out of the room as the women followed close behind. Sorelli gave Darius Erik's mask, her face paling as she came closer to the bloodied remains of the Phantom of the Opera. Darius replaced the mask over Erik's face before wrapping one of Erik's around over his shoulders.
Just as they thought they were safe, having left the throne room and racing down an empty hall, the Sultana appeared.
"Where do you think you are going?"
It was a voice that Christine had grown to recognize: a dark hiss so full of sickly sweet malice that it caused a shiver to run down her spine. Meg wrapped her arms Christine protectively. She could feel Jammes and Sorelli step closer to her.
Nadir faced the Sultana first, Erik grunting while trying stand as Nadir turned. "Your majesty, I-"
"Silence, Daroga! I do not have time for your excuses. My son seems to have made an error in his decision making which I am here to correct. Our dear angel did not kill any of the contestants. In fact, they are all on their way to the medic where they will surely survive to fight another day. Therefore, he does not win any prize."
"You." The Sultana pointed at Christine. "Will come with me."
Christine's tears had not ceased yet. She could barely hear the Sultana's wickedness through her own hushed sobs. Erik muttered in his slightly conscious state and she wanted nothing more than to run over and shake him until he opened his eyes again. But she had to face her opponent yet again, despite the complete lack of strength left in her bones. Meg's arm around her tightened, as if to hold her upright against the Sultana's glare. It was a battle the two of them knew they would lose, but help came in the most unexpected way.
It was Fazia who approached them, her demeanour uncrumpling against the Sultana's fury.
"His highness made no mistake, your majesty." She interjected. The Sultana jumped at her words, clearly shocked at Fazia's arrival. "In allowing their departure, he gives his consent."
"You forget your place, Fazia." The Queen hissed.
"As the Shah's second wife, I do not. To go against his word is treason, something his first wife clearly did not understand. It would be a shame for him to lose both her and his mother over such a simple command."
The Sultana yielded, though she left Christine with one final warning.
"You will regret this."
It rang through her mind their entire journey to Erik's chambers. In fact, Christine had no idea they had arrived until Meg shook her shoulder.
"We can go in now, if you like."
Christine nodded, joining her friends as they entered Erik's private room. They had waited in his study, doing their best to not step on the scattering of papers on the floor. But at the sight of her angel, laying in his bed, Christine sprinted forward without a care. She collapsed on her knees, gripping his hand as she cried into the sheets. Erik remained motionless on his bed. His chest rattled with each breath, but the new set of clothes Nadir and Darius had changed him into hid most of his bodily injuries. His no longer gloved fingers were splattered with red and purple bruises. Christine had to hold herself back to refrain from kissing each and every one of them. Instead, she sobbed into the sheets, succumbing to the overwhelming feeling of guilt. Every bruise, every cracked bone, was because of her. Meg held her, kneeling at the side of the bed besides her. They remained in here for what felt like hours. Christine cried until her tears ran dry, instead leaving her hiccupping and sniffling against his sheets.
Sorelli and Jammes sat against the wall next to Darius. They had been conversing quietly, doing their best to remain out of earshot. But now that Christine had grown silent, their conversation was the only noise omitted in the small room.
"So he never…" Sorelli's voice trailed.
Darius shook his head. "It was all a performance."
Christine sighed, squinting her eyes shut. Jammes obviously knew the truth, but Christine had hoped to inform her friends of Erik's true intentions at some point. But everything this afternoon had happened so quickly, her body was too numb in its recovery to help Darius explain the situation.
"He was a fool. He could have finished them off easily if he used his punjab lasso."
"Darius." Nadir sighed. "Killing a man is not for the faint of heart. Besides, I think he was motivated to be a better man…"
Christine felt more tears swell in her eyes. Though she somewhat relished the feeling of success in changing Erik's violent ways, it drowned her in more guilt. "This is all my fault."
"No." Meg whispered. "Christine, this is the Shah and the Sultana's fault. They did this, not you."
"But if I had been more careful, they never would have known that we were lying." Christine's words trailed off, her voice faltering the more she spoke. Christine squeezed her eyes shut, doing her best to contain the new swell of tears that emerged. "If-If I wasn't so...so scared then m-maybe I could have stopped this."
A lone finger brushed against her cheek, wiping away the tracks of her previous tears.
"Do not waste your tears on me, little songbird."
Christine's head snapped up, gasping as a pair of amber orbs stared back at her. The entire room burst with life. Meg gasped, Nadir leapt to his feet, and Sorelli and Darius muttered some shocked expletives. They all huddled closer to the bed, all stunned by the consciousness of the Angel of Death. But even with all her friends around her, Christine could only focus on the hazy eyes that stared up at her.
"You didn't scream." He wheezed.
Christine laughed, a sudden burst of shock that she could only hold back by covering her mouth with her hands. He had stood on death's doorstep after being beaten to a pulp yet still remained shocked by her reaction? She clasped her fingers around his hands, gripping onto it like a lifeline.
"Oh thank God." She cried into his palm. If she was not surrounded by her peers, she would have leapt on top of him, hugging him so tightly that it would have surely finished the job. Instead, she held his hand against her cheek and smiled brightly. "Oh you are awake."
Nadir sighed loudly, running his fingers through his hair. "You scared me there, my friend. I thought that coffin of yours would finally have a practical application."
Erik growled as he rolled his eyes. "Of course you're here." He muttered. Erik glanced around the room, his jaw setting at the sight of the crowd around him. "Why are they here?"
Christine nearly laughed at the return of his usual, annoyed tone. The ballerinas, on the other hand, fidgeted uncomfortably. Clearly they were aware of their host's discomfort. They were in the private quarters of a man that was not their husband, after all.
Darius snorted at the sight of the three blushing women. "Well your victory required us to leave in quite the hurry."
"I have arranged each of them to stay somewhere safe for the night." Nadir assured. "I did not want to abandon them without ensuring that they would be safe. Forgive me for my brash actions, mademoiselles."
Erik gave Christine's hand a gentle squeeze before gently pulling his hand away. Her fingers extended, trying to prolong their touch before he placed his hands at his side. Erik grunted as he slowly sat himself upright against the bed. "As you can see..." He wheezed, groaning as he leaned his head back against the headboard. "I am fine. Now you can leave."
Nadir scoffed. "Clearly. Darius, mademoiselles, would you mind giving us a moment to speak in private? Darius, you may take mademoiselle Sorelli, Meg and Jammes to their rooms for the night."
"Whose rooms?" Meg asked meekly.
"Mademoiselle Giry, you will be staying with me for the night. Sorelli and Jammes will be with Darius. Do not panic, I ensure your safety and dignity. This way, we do not seem to be breaking the rules of the harem, though I doubt Fazia or the Sultana will check on us for the night. You will wake up tomorrow untouched."
As they discussed the night's sleeping arrangements, Christine felt something to her side. It was a haunting, nearly nonexistent pull in the air. Absentmindedly, she followed it to see Erik's eyes looking in her direction. Christine didn't know how long they merely stared at each other, like it was unfathomable that they were both here. She only turned back towards the group when Nadir cleared his throat. He smiled at her, giving her a knowing glare. It was a look friendly enough to calm her but stern enough to ask her to leave. Christine hesitantly looked to Erik. He wheezed as he leaned against the headrest but nodded slightly at her questioning eyes. Reluctantly, Christine joined her friends out in Erik's study. To leave that room felt like abandoning the warmth of a fire on a winter's night. But who was she to demand that she stayed behind? She had so many questions, so much fear that plagued her mind. What if he worsened in her brief time away? What if something terrible happened and she couldn't be there?
Meg held her hand tightly as they walked back into the study. Her grip was more encouraging than forceful, though Christine doubted her dear friend would let her turn and flee back to the side of his bed.
Darius closed the door behind them. It devoid the room of sound, as if their experiences had deafened them. They all remained silent, motionless, and unsure of how to continue. Darius eventually cleared his throat.
"We should be going." His voice was a low whisper. He placed his hands in his pockets, avoiding their gazes. The four women looked at each other.
"Christine." Jammes mumbled, breaking the silence. "I'm really sorry about the um… the phantom."
"I am sure he will recover quickly." Meg stated warmly.
Christine could only nod. She forced a weak smile onto her lips.
Sorelli sighed. "Tomorrow." She stated definitively. "Let's talk tomorrow. Now, we all need rest."
Christine nodded in agreement. The madness of the night was too complex to process at the moment. She had no idea what to say to her friends, let alone how to understand how to feel. Was she relieved that Erik had survived, or devastated that it had gotten this bad? On top of that, there was the revelation of his face. It was hideous, but she did not want to feel disgusted by it. Christine squinted her eyes shut, as if it could expel all the loud thoughts that yelled for her attention in her head.
The four women hugged each other close, just like they would before a performance. Christine felt a single tear trickle down her cheek. Would they ever return to that life again, or would they always be hiding from the Sultana's fury?
"So do we have the pleasure of staying with you tonight, Darius?" Sorelli teased. Her friends chuckled softly behind her, enjoying some refreshing humour in their quite sullen evening.
"Is my bed truly that much worse than some old nobleman with ghastly intentions?"
"It depends. How noble are we talking here?"
Meg snickered while Jammes squeaked in shock. "Really, Sorelli? Joking in a time like this?"
"I can't think of a better time to lighten the mood." Sorelli turned to Christine, giving her one large grin. "We will see you soon, okay?"
Christine watched as Darius led her friends out of the room. Meg gave her one last hug goodbye.
"None of this is your fault. No matter what happens. Do not believe that you bear any of the blame, okay?"
Christine nodded, holding her friend closer. It was a wonder how healing a hug could be. "Thank you."
Darius scanned the outside hall, ensuring that no one awaited them in their escape. He motioned for the ballerinas to follow him. They all gave Christine a final farewell before exiting the chamber. Once the door had shut, Christine was finally alone again. Her fingers gripped the edge of the table as she inhaled a deep breath, letting her body slouch from the exhaustion. Her arms instinctively hugged her midsection, doing her best to remain warm in the chilly air. All of the adrenaline in her body dissipated, leaving her a folded-over remnant of a young woman. She barely felt anything, but at the same time felt everything.
Erik is alive. That is all that matters.
Her stomach churned. He was alive for now, but how long could this last? The Sultana had made it exceptionally clear that she was not pleased with their performance. Christine shivered as the image of the vicious Queen invaded her mind, like a creature that trapped her in a nightmare. How long would they have to continue fighting her before they were finally free? Would Erik even be able to hold out that long?
To be free. The thought seemed foreign to her. She had almost adjusted to her life in the palace. By day, she would sit around in the harem and occupy herself with books or gossip. By night, she would be enraptured by music. If the wicked Sultana and her atrocious son were omitted, her life would not be terrible all together.
Erik and Nadir's conversation grew louder, catching Christine's attention. She sat in the silence, trying to decipher the random murmurings of their discussion that would leak through the door. Slowly, she inched closer until she could hear them more clearly.
"Your selfishness put us in this mess. Why couldn't you use the punjab and get it over with?"
"Are you...saying you wished I had killed those men?"
"I am saying you could have suffocated them enough so they would pass out. That way you wouldn't end up a mess before the biggest night of our lives."
"You worry too much, daroga. I will be able to open the barriers tomorrow."
"How are you going to open all those barriers when you can barely sit up in bed? Of all the nights to play hero you chose this one. Your ribs are clearly fractured here. Though your mask may hide it, I can tell you have a black eye on that side of your face. Your entire body has been broken down by a group of ill equipped soldiers despite the fact that you were armed!"
"She did not need to see that side of me. I didn't want to see that side of me."
"It isn't about you! It is about the thousands that are oppressed by that mad man. It is about Rookheeya!"
"I need to rest, Daroga."
Christine listened intently. She heard Nadir's laboured panting, but no word flew between them for some time.
"I will stop by in the morning to ensure you are awake."
"I will be ready." Erik growled. "Ensure you bring some food for Christine in the morning. She will need to regain her strength for tomorrow."
Christine's stomach fluttered. She was to be alone with Erik for another night? Nadir said nothing. Christine could hear him approach the door and she quickly dashed back towards the table. She tried to seem inconspicuous, as if she was just leaning against the table and playing with the beads on her dress. Nadir glanced towards her.
"Maybe you can talk some sense into him." He grumbled before retrieving his coat.
Christine smiled. "I do not know how much help I can be."
Nadir scoffed, throwing his coat over his shoulder. "If I am honest, he needs Allah's help. Good evening, mademoiselle Daae."
Nadir closed the door behind him, leaving her behind in an atmosphere of uneasy silence. The last time she had been left alone with him, the door had been locked between them. It set the precedence for the evening. But now, the door was unhinged and Christine had no idea where she was supposed to be.
She gulped. Her eyes slowly wandered over to the candlelight that peeked from the forbidden temple. Was it sinful to enter? Just to check on him? She nodded, internally justifying her need to be at his side again. What if he needed help? She couldn't just abandon him. Christine looked around, quickly grabbing a small towelette near a pitcher. She rung the cloth through the water, letting the cool water sooth her aching fingers.
There. Now I have some excuse.
Slowly, she stepped towards the door, her heart racing. As she stepped past the threshold, her breath froze in her lungs. He remained seated, leaning against the headrest. Nadir and Darius had replaced his blood-stained suit with a matching pair of grey, silk long sleeve top and pants. They clung nicely to his form, revealing the top of his jarring collarbone. Christine felt a deep blush creep along her cheeks. Though his body remained still, his eyes were ablaze. She looked away quickly.
"How are you?" She asked, looking down at the towelette in her hands.
Erik remained motionless. "Better."
"I was..." Christine hesitated, her mouth turning dry as she tried to force some words out of her mouth. She had so much to say, but now she had the perfect opportunity, her words escaped her. She internally cursed her fleeting mind. "The water in the pitcher isn't too cold, but it may be nice for your eye. I overheard Nadir mention it was swelling."
Erik's laboured breathing ceased for just a moment, she only looked up, worrying that he had stopped breathing entirely. "Thank you." He wheezed.
It was as close to an offer as she would receive. Christine stepped forward, her legs shaking the closer she came to the side of the bed. She slowly sat next to him, holding the towel in her hands.
"If you wish, I can hold it up for you."
Erik studied her. "And bear witness to that monstrosity? I think not."
"I didn't scream before, I-I won't now."
Her eyes glanced up. A dash of vulnerability was laced in his once impregnable demeanour. "Why?"
"I don't want it to hurt-"
"Why didn't you scream?"
Christine opened her mouth, but the words were stuck in her throat. She hadn't screamed out of guilt, not because what she saw wasn't horrifying. Though she could not tell him, she was mortified by his deformity. It was so grotesque that the thought made her queasy. But regardless of the horridness of his face, there was just a part of her that could not hate it. How could she hate anything that was a part of him?
"It isn't you." She whispered.
Erik scoffed. "Denial will change nothing. That monstrosity you saw is me. It is the perfect representation of who I am."
She was not deterred by the anger laced in his words. "No." She responded softly. "All I had to do was look at your eyes. There, I see you. I didn't scream because your face doesn't define you. I am not afraid of the real you."
Erik leaned in closer, wincing slightly at the movement. The exposed part of his face formed into a vicious scowl, one that caused her to shiver. "But you are afraid of what you saw."
Christine bit her lip, turning from him. How could she deny that she was not terrified by it? Though she still stood by her belief, it would be a lie to say that she wasn't ill at the sight of the twisted flesh. They remained silent for a few moments, both unsure of what to say. Christine barely even noticed that Erik was moving until he groaned in pain.
"What are you doing? You must rest."
"You may have the bed, I will sleep on the chaise." He muttered, pulling at his covers. Christine watched in horror as he flung his legs over the edge of the bed. He groaned in pain as his body turned away from her. She leapt to her feet, dashing around to the other side of the bed frame in a futile attempt to stop him.
"Don't be ridiculous! I will take the chaise. You are injured!" Christine forgot all sense of decorum, placing her hand on his shoulders in an attempt to hold him down. Just as her palm connected with the protruding bones of his shoulder, he snatched up her wrists.
"I am fine. Both you and the daroga are fretting over minor injuries. Now step aside!"
In his clumsy attempt to escape the bed, he pulled her wrists downward just as he shakily stood. "Erik!" Christine squeaked as he unintentionally pulled her against him. The two of them fell backwards onto the bed, neither able to save themselves before they came crashing down on each other. Erik clung to her as they fell, a sharp wince and hiss preventing him from saving them from their short fall.
Erik grabbed her waist immediately, gripping her so tightly that she was frozen an inch above his hips as they landed on the bed. It was just close enough to feel the heat radiating off him without feeling every detail of him against her. She wasn't sure if that relieved her or bothered her. Instead, she just chose to absorb it. Her hands rested on either side of his head in their weak attempt to stop her face from colliding with his.
"I..." Christine's voice trailed. Fire burned through her body. His long, agile fingers felt as though they touched her skin through her thin dress. She could see her own reflection in the sparkling glint of his wide irises. Their breaths mingled in the small space between them. "I am so sorry." She whispered.
Christine forced herself from him, nearly panting at the bittersweet release of his presence. She sat perpendicular to him with her back facing him. It was the only position she could remain close to him while hiding her gitters. She did her best to slow her breathing, despite the rapid thumping of her heart in her ribcage. He couldn't see her like this; a mad whirlwind of emotions.
"I refuse to let you sleep on that chaise with the Sultana sulking around. Better yet, the small shed of propriety I possess refuses to let a lady sleep on the couch while I stay here."
"I refuse to let you sleep on that chaise in the state you are in."
Erik gulped. He opened his lips to speak, but not a sound escaped. He regained his composure and cleared his throat. "Then we have but one option."
Her cheeks burned as his face paled. Though she understood his intention completely, a part of her refused to believe it. If neither of them wished to sleep on the chaise, then they must both sleep in the bed. That had to be the only explanation for his words...didn't it?
Christine nodded slowly, unable to verbalize her consent. His eyes widened for just a moment, before he released a long shuddering breath. Had he not expected her to cave so easily?
Christine felt the sudden urge to distract herself from the situation. "But you must apply this to the side of your face. I can look away if it makes you feel comfortable, but it will help with the swelling. Please, Erik."
Slowly he leaned back against the headrest, sliding his feet back under the blankets. He panted, doing his best to control his breathing from their brief...encounter. Instead of replying to her, his eyes merely studied her. The skin on her arms stood on end. She knew how exposed she was in this dress. A part of her wondered if he enjoyed it, or if he was disgusted by her vulgarity.
"You want to see my face?"
Christine bit her lip. "I want to help you. Ever since I came here, you have done the unimaginable for me and my friends. You take the brunt of the consequences, and I just want to help in the only way I know. Please, I don't want to fight."
Erik was silent for a moment. Christine waited for him to move, speak, respond in any way. Just before her patience faltered, Erik lifted his hand from under the covers. Her heart suddenly stilled, aware of the horror she was about to see. A horror she had asked to see.
It isn't him. It is not who he is.
Erik slowly removed the mask, his body wincing as the familiar comfort of the porcelain left his skin. He watched her so intently, like a cat approaching a stranger. He looked as if he was ready to leap away from her the moment she showed any sign of disgust. Under the candlelight, his face was not as horrid as she remembered. Yes, there was still a section of the side of his head where she was certain she was looking directly at his skull, however it seemed almost rosy in the little lighting. Despite their strange shape, her heart still fluttered as her eyes found his malformed lips.
She smiled at him, hating the way he hissed at the sight of her calmness. Gently, she placed the wet towel to the side of his face, letting it cover his bruising eye and cheek.
"You are an angel." He breathed raggedly, trembling at the feel of her touch.
Christine shook her head. "Angels don't hurt their friends."
"What happened to me was not your fault. It was a consequence of my own actions, and my actions alone. You should listen to your friends more often. The blame belongs on the Shah and that witch. One could argue that it even falls upon myself. I could have ended the fight much sooner."
"Why didn't you? Look at what happened to you..."
Erik slowly pull leaned forward. His bare hand cupped her own cheek. His fingers, though bony and long, seemed to fit around her cheek perfectly. She instinctively leaned into it, revealing in the sweet comfort of touch.
"Someone had told me I didn't have to be the monster I thought I was."
Christine's lower lip trembled. "I didn't want you to get hurt like this."
He chuckled, his short lived laugh that escaped his lungs more like a wheeze than a sign of joy. "All the pain I have endured is worth this moment."
Christine's heart fluttered. Could he truly mean that? Her eyelids grew heavy, losing herself in the warmth around her. As she leaned forward, her tongue naturally wetted her lips.
Erik erupted into a fit of coughs, turning from her. Christine leapt back, heat pulsing of her cheeks. What was she doing? How could she think about kissing him in a time like this? Erik was injured and in pain and she couldn't control her childish desire!
Christine stood quickly, fixing her dress. "You need rest." She gathered the covers, which Erik reluctantly climbed into. She brought the covers up to his chest, swallowing down her embarrassment as she leaned over him to adjust the blankets.
His hand caught hers. "Stay." He mumbled. "Just stay."
Christine looked down at their interlaced fingers. She would be naïve if she denied the tension in the air. Although she could not define it, the electricity that pulsated through her was not just based on her own childish imagination. She slowly pulled her hand from his, trying to ignore the pang of pain that crossed his expression. Silently, she sauntered over to the door.
This was the point. The point of no return. Would she walk out of here, forget this desire and anguish in her soul. Would she continue to embody the good girl she was raised to be?
Or would she stay?
Christine turned back towards him. She swallowed as she closed the door in front of her. "How could I tell you no?"
It was done. Erik's eyes stared at her, clearly shocked by her decision. They faltered as they raked down her body, taking in every aspect of her exposed skin. Christine felt her body twitch in delight at the thought, but buried it deep within her. She sauntered back towards him, unsure and unconfident in all aspects except one: she wanted to be here.
Erik's lips were sealed together tightly. He slid to the side slowly, his eyes not leaving her. No words needed to be said between them. Christine kicked off her slippers, slowly entering under the covers. As if like magnets, their hands instantly found each other.
Erik hissed at the contact, Christine blushing profusely. She wanted to douse out the candle so he could not see how brightly they burned. Propriety blatantly stated that they should not lie in this bed together, though only their hands touched. Yet, this felt like the most improper yet natural thing in the world.
"I don't understand."
Christine raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"How could you willingly touch me, after what you saw?"
Christine turned to him. Erik continued to look up at the ceiling, the exposed part of his face still covered in the damp towelette.
"You are not a monster."
"My mother thought I was a monster."
"That is the saddest part of your story. She never had the opportunity to see your talents, hear your music. No monster creates such beauty. I don't think I could imagine a world without your music."
"Oh, Christine." He exhaled raggedly. "I can give you a world where you will never go without it. Please, just...just stay with me."
His pleas stirred a fury within her. What exactly was he asking? A lifetime of music with him? Couldn't that only be possible if they… But all her anxieties fizzled as he turned to face her. She could just see the deformity on his cheeks against the pillow. But before her was the face of the man she knew, except with a gaping hole in the center of his face. But it didn't bother her, or even cause her stomach to stir. In a way, it was the face of the man she...no...she dared not say it.
"You are the bravest woman I have ever met."
His words were like a needle to her heart, a needle that finally stitched the last, aching hole that had been left behind by her years of turmoil. She had been asked to be brave her entire life, but never had she been called that. Tears swelled in her eyes at the thought of finally completing her father's dying wishes.
"I don't feel brave."
His other hand cupped her cheek again, though this time, he turned to his side to face her. She could just feel the softness of his pyjamas against her shoulder. Gently, he rubbed the pad of his thumb along her cheekbone.
"I have never cared about anyone else. Even those who were kind to me, like Nadir and Madame Giry, were just good people I had the pleasure of doing business with. I was never able to care for others because I could not care for myself. Forgiveness and compassion were so foreign to me, until you came along. For the first time in my life, I feel human because of you. It takes a brave woman to tame a beast and a braver one to stand against a tyrant. You, Christine Daae, are the bravest person I have ever met."
Tears swelled in her eyes as he gently stroked them away. "Your father would have been proud of you."
It collapsed the dam that held back her heart. She released a short sob before turning towards him. Her arms wrapped around him just as his sunk down to her lower back. They gripped onto each other so tightly that their bodies nearly molded into one. Christine took in every angle of his torso against her chest. She inhaled his sweet scent as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. His fingers traced small circles along her lower back as his other snaked under her shoulder to hold her close.
He continued to purr in her ear. "Tomorrow, something will happen that will change everything. But I pray it doesn't change this."
Christine leaned her head back, staring warmly into his eyes. "Nothing can change this."
Before she could doubt herself, she slowly leaned forward until their lips connected. It sent out that same spark as before, one that energized her and numbed her all at once. For too long she had bottled her emotions, scared that he didn't reciprocate them. But now, there wasn't a shadow of a doubt in her mind.
She was in love with him and maybe, just maybe, he was in love with her too.
Her kiss was soft at first, as if politely asking for the return of passion that she had been denied for so long. Erik's entire body tensed at first, before conceding to her desires. The silks of their clothes melted together as Erik pulled her into his arms. Slowly, their mouths parted to take in air before hungrily pressing against each other for more. One kiss turned into many and neither of them could stop.
This was passion. Those chaste kisses she had with Raoul never consumed her like this. Her hands slid down to his chest where she could feel the heavy thumping of his heart. His fingers nestled in the back of her hair, gripping onto her loose curls as if to hold her in place for his onslaught of kisses. There were no words between them yet so much was answered.
There was an unfamiliar burn below her stomach, one that flared when Erik's hips rubbed against hers. In the past, she would have shied away from such a sensation. That was something only husbands and wives explored. Yet her body craved it. Whatever this was, whatever this meant, she wanted it all.
Christine gasped as he rolled on top of her, though it was short lived. He groaned against their closed lips. Quickly one of his hands left her hip to grab the side of his ribs.
Christine's eyes widened. How could she be do selfish? Had she completely forgotten that he was injured? She reluctantly pulled her lips apart from his. "Erik, be careful."
He held in a pained hiss as he kissed her cheek. "I promise you, the pain is worth it."
Christine chuckled, gently pushing at his chest until he lay back on his side. They stared at each other, both panting from their heated exchange.
"Stay with me." He whispered, twirling a lock of her hair in his hands.
She smiled at him, leaning forward to plant one, chaste kiss on his lips. "How could I tell you no?"
He laughed, the first, genuine laugh she had ever seen from him. His smile brightened the entire room and it caused her heart to flutter. She smiled to herself, imagining a world where she could see that smile almost every day.
Hesitantly, she turned from him. As much as she wanted to throw herself against him one more time, she dared to think the lengths he would hurt himself to do the same. Maybe just for tonight, she could show some restraint. Yet she felt his body shift under the covers, his chest and hips pressing against her back and backside. Christine bit her lip as she leaned back into him. Her eyes fluttered shut as his arm wrapped around her waist.
"Christine." He whispered in her ear. "Promise me you will stay."
Her body began to drift off into a deep slumber. She sleepily smiled. "I promise."
"Promise me that you will choose me, mon ange. Please, promise me."
Those were the last words she heard before she drifted off into a peaceful slumber.
It is happening! I repeat-we have lift off.
Badpixie06: I read your review and thought "Is this person a mind reader or do they have access to my rough drafts?" You are a great observer with your comment about the punjab lasso and the sultana! She will definitely be making a wrathful appearance at some point.
Phantomgirl24:So glad you can view the chapters! As for her choice...well...she seemed to have made her feelings pretty clear. But that is all I will say about that haha. Thank you!
Amanda: Thank you so much for keeping me updated! I am so glad you are liking this story :).
nPennyworth: I know, I suck. You were literally screaming all weekend and I posted this a day late *begs for forgiveness*. Hope it gave you the moment you needed. Thank you so much for the review- you make me laugh and I enjoy reading your perspective. Thanks!
FleshofMidnight- Erik literally has been through so much haha. No fop interference yet...emphasis on the yet. Glad you are enjoying this story!
Lucyole: I literally spent hours trying to figure out how to make the Shah and Sultana the creepiest people possible. Glad they give off those vibes haha. Thank you for your review of the fight scenes! Beauty Underneath was also my favourite song from LND and I felt that it fit really well with her emotinos at the time. Thank you!
