Chapter 5-Bargain
The next evening, Erik wildly paced his room, his mind reeling with unrelenting madness. He chewed on his thumb, wondering how hard he would have to bite to draw blood. Perhaps the pain would take away the aching need to be near Christine.
His Christine wanted to leave him, to run back to a life without music, to be locked away in her room under constant supervision of guards. No, no he couldn't let that happen. She would stay with him until one of them stopped breathing.
His Christine who so sweetly bandaged his arm after she had smashed a vase over him. The same vase that he had so carefully packed amongst his valuables to bring back from Persia. But the vase was of little importance anymore, Christine was now his most treasured possession, a wonderfully marvelous prize after years of pining. That vehement young woman, always so yielding, now a force to be reckoned with. It made him shudder to think of what her fiery passion would be like during their imminent union.
When he finally takes Christine, her entire being would sing for him. Her song of ecstasy would be the sweetest music he would ever compose, even more so than his score for Don Juan Triumphant! Though he had never been with a woman, he was sure his studies of erotica would be enough to please her immensely. Yes, his coupling with his darling angel would be fueled by the knowledge he had gained in the many books he had indulged in on the subject. This, Christine, would be his fantasies coming to fruition, it would be for gratification. Oh, and he would be gentle, so very gentle with his beautifully delicate Christine. He would–
No! Behave yourself you madman! Erik scolded himself. He couldn't think of that, he would not be tempted to claim her body, not until she returned his love.
How was she to love him?! Surely she couldn't love such a grotesque creature who lurked in shadows and had the face of a demon. But she could learn to love him with time and patience, a virtue Erik knew he lacked.
Erik stopped his pacing and thought of their conversation, and how Christine had said he wasn't thinking about her feelings. Of course, he was thinking about her feelings! She wanted to be the leading soprano so he did what had to be done, though the murder of Piangi was hardly necessary, but that stagehand–that vile rat, if Christine knew even half of what he did to the young girls she called her friends, she would have begged him to end that fiend's life.
No excuses! the voice inside his head scolded.
Erik groaned, sitting on the edge of his bed and lowering his head into his hands, "You are right, I will not make any excuses for my behavior. Christine would not like that and I refuse to allow myself to manipulate her any longer."
But it was the only way he knew! If she had only known the perils he had faced, maybe she wouldn't have been so quick to turn to anger, yet he knew Christine was right in at least one aspect, he shouldn't have falsely gone to her as the Angel of Music, he should have gone to her as Erik and nothing more.
He groaned then spat, "Why can't you ever do anything right?!"
He was stupid to assume Christine would never question that her Angel of Music may have been a man, she was after all not going to stay a gullible child forever. He should have weighed his options better, and known that it was inevitable for him to eventually have to reveal himself. There was no changing the past though, he needed to think of a way to get Christine to understand why he chose to do what he did. Then he thought of Claire.
Claire mentioned atoning for his sins, and to offer an apology. Erik had never apologized to anyone before, he was hardly empathetic towards the people he had murdered, after all, a vast majority of them had worse sins to their names. Christine didn't need to know of his life before her though, he wouldn't need to tell her. The only apologies he needed to provide were for his actions that had directly affected her. But could he offer an apology if he wasn't sure how to feel sorry for what he had done?
Remorse was never a feeling Erik saw himself coming to know, though he knew if he had to describe how he felt about how badly he hurt Christine, he was sure it was remorse so that was enough to at least try to get her to forgive him. Yes, he could go to Christine, apologize for the years of manipulation and the murder of both Piangi and that loathsome stagehand. But, would she accept or push him away? How was he to know she wouldn't just turn around and slam the door in his face?!
Erik quickly stood from the bed, throwing his arms up in the air and growled, "Damn these stupid apologies!"
His hands were on his hips and he looked around his room, eyes landing on his organ. A song may be a good apology, but he didn't feel inspired by the thought in the slightest. He took in a few deep breaths and slumped back onto his bed, rubbing his exposed temple.
Damn that woman! How dare she not thank him for saving her from a life of misery? She didn't deserve an apology. No, no, he wouldn't give her one. She could sit in her fancy little room and once she was ready to love him, she would come to him and it would be her begging for forgiveness.
Erik was on his feet, pacing once again and wracked his brain, then he heard an urgent voice in the back of his mind, Fool, how is she supposed to love you if you don't apologize! Go to her and try, that's the least you can do!
"No! Shut up!" he angrily whispered, "She will love me! She has to love me! I will not give her a choice!"
He gathered some of his sheet music from the table in the center of the room and angrily tossed it to the floor. She wouldn't accept his apology, no, she would simply turn him away and lock herself in her room. She would run away when she got the chance and return to that boy. They would surely hunt him down. He would need to flee and go into hiding. He couldn't live like that again!
You do not know that, you need to at least try, the voice in his head urged.
Erik snorted, then laughed, "No! I will not! I refuse!"
She will leave and never come back. You truly are the coward I thought you to be. What a shame you can't even apologize to the woman you love, the voice tauntingly whispered.
"I'm no coward!" Erik hissed, "I will apologize and you will choke on your words!"
Then, he quickly moved to the door, pausing only to touch his face to assure his mask was still in place. It was slightly off kilter so he moved it back to position and threw open the door.
The door across from him was suddenly very far away, the usual three steps it took to arrive looked to be twenty. Erik steadied himself on the doorframe, then began taking agonizingly slow steps towards Christine's room. He raised his fist to knock but paused for a moment to steady his breathing and compose himself. Christine would not see him as a blubbering mess like she did earlier.
Finally, he rapped on the door, listening carefully and hoping she would answer. Erik heard quiet shuffling from inside, then a soft thud followed by a low curse.
The door creaked open and Christine stood before him, her lovely eyes were sleepy and when they met him, she gave a shy smile before turning her face away. Erik saw a light blush of pink cross her cheeks that spread to the tips of her ears. Her perfect ears, her perfect cheeks. The Gods clearly favored her during their creation. He allowed his eyes to graze father down her body, taking in the boldness of her collarbone and the rise and fall of her breasts under the beautiful pink lace as she breathed. The perfect curve of her hips as she shifted lightly on her perfectly wonderful feet. The feet he very much wished he could worship with his lips, the feet he would fall to beg at if she so much as asked.
Erik was suddenly aware his body was mere inches away from pressing into hers and he took a quick step backwards, his gaze pinned to the stretch of floor between them.
"Good evening, Erik," Christine's voice was angelic and he felt his heart leap.
"Greetings, mademoiselle, you look absolutely ravishing this evening," he replied, hoping his flattery would assist in his pursuit of forgiveness.
A rosy blush crossed her pale skin once again and she looked down at her feet, "Thank you. Did you need to speak with me?"
"Yes, I have come to apologize, Christine," he started, then suddenly a dizziness overtook him again and he had to grip the doorframe to keep himself from swaying.
Christine took a step towards him, her arms crossed over her chest, "Apologize? What is it that you are apologizing to me for?"
Her demeanor was domineering, almost as if she was upset with him. The thought made Erik recoil slightly, and he felt a rising heat of anger within himself and he did not want her to be at the receiving end if he lashed out again. She didn't deserve it. Erik swallowed hard, trying to consume his anger and hide it within himself and hope that it wouldn't spill out of him when he least expected it.
"For everything, for the deceit, for–" he paused to breathe, silently praying to any God that existed to keep him sane so he could continue.
He willed himself forward, thinking of all of his past transgressions towards her, and how badly he longed for her to forgive him, "I know you must despise me for what I have done to you. My fear that you would turn me away if you saw me as the man–the monster I was–consumed me, Christine. You are not the only one that wishes I would have had the courage to present myself to you all those years ago. Not a day goes by that I do not regret deceiving you in such a way."
Christine cocked her head, "What else are you sorry for?"
"Christine, I–" he whispered, struggling with all his might to keep calm.
Piangi and the stagehand, he heard within his mind.
"My violent nature, I hardly have control of it. I've allowed myself to slip into madness and I fear there is no hope for me any longer," he paused, feeling a lump forming in his throat, "My baseless murders, Christine. Forgive me for all that I have done. I will do anything in my power to right my wrongs. I will pray to your god, Christine, if that's what I must do."
Erik turned his face up to look at Christine. A gentle smile formed on her lips and he wanted so badly to capture them with his own and drown himself in her scent. All of his fear of losing his temper had dissipated with the thought of feeling her mouth moving against his and he fought the urge to reach up and run his thumb over the smooth skin of her lips.
He used the back of his sleeve to wipe his bare cheek which was wetted with tears and felt the sudden urge to run and hide in his room. To curl up in a dark corner and starve himself to death. He promised himself he wouldn't become a sniveling mess in Christine's presence again, and yet he couldn't even do that.
Erik turned away from Christine, ready to lock himself in his room and submit to solitude once again, but a hand caught his wrist. The contact burned his skin and he wanted to pull from her, but he couldn't find the strength to do so. Instead, he faced her again, the tears in his eyes making it hard to see the features on her face. He couldn't tell if she was angry with him or not.
Christine released his wrist and took a step back, "Would you like to come sit?"
Erik nodded, blinking back tears to clear his vision, "If you would have me, thank you."
He followed her into the room, taking note of the haphazardly made bed and the many books scattered on the small table in the corner of the room. Christine had never been one for organization, though it didn't bother Erik as he was the same way.
Christine sat on the bed, while he moved to the chair. It was warm as if she had just been occupying it. He glanced down at the pile of scattered books, all romance novels, and he silently wondered which one she had been reading.
Christine cleared her throat, drawing his attention back towards her, "You may continue."
Erik inhaled to steady his breathing, "My intentions were never to harm you, my love. I was doing right by you, in my eyes at least. I agree with you that I have been selfish, and I will never allow myself to be so again. I've committed enough atrocities in my life, in fact enough for several lifetimes. Seeing how terribly my choices have affected you, I do not wish to continue down that path. I beg for your forgiveness, Christine."
She looked down at her lap, twisting her hands, seeming to be deep in thought. Erik longed to have access to the inner workings of her mind, to know what he needed to do to have her accept him as he was. It would be a lovely sight to see what made her tick, to be able to have a small amount of power over her again.
Erik counted her breaths, one by one, the rise and fall of her chest slow but steady. After eighty seven breaths, she finally spoke, "If I am going to be staying with you, I wish to write Raoul a letter to formally break off our engagement. As you recall, I had already planned on doing so. I just don't want him searching for me. I want him to know I left on my own. I will even allow you to read it before we send it if that would make it easier."
Erik smiled, nodding urgently, "Of course, my love, of course. I will get you the proper materials to write your letter."
She was staying with him! Oh, how he wanted to run to her, take her up in his arms and lavish her with his lips until she was begging for breath.
Christine returned his smile, "You know, after everything you have done, I can't bring myself to hate you or even dislike you. I've tried, God knows I've tried. Part of me wants to run and never look back, but I will stay with you," she took a deep breath, "You are forgiven, Erik, and I hope your words are true and that you will no longer do misdeeds."
The urge to take her in his arms increased, but he couldn't, he had made a promise not to touch her until she allowed him to. Instead, he let out a shuddering breath and said softly, "I speak only the truth, Christine, thank you, my love."
Christine shifted so her feet were on the floor and she was leaning forward on the bed, then she narrowed her eyes, "Say it."
Erik's eyes widened, "Say what?"
Confusion clouded his thoughts and he searched his mind for options to her demand. He had forgotten to include something in his apology, he just knew it! Now everything was damned!
"Say it. Say you love me!" she demanded again, leaning forward farther on the bed.
Erik quietly gasped at the simple demand, "I love you," he replied, expression unwavering.
"How do I know you aren't lying?" Christine asked.
"I have no need to deceive you any longer, I promise to never do such a thing again," and he meant it, never again would he do anything to compromise his chances of her loving him.
Christine leaned back on the bed and Erik watched as she bit her lip and twisted her curls in her fingers. Oh, how he wished he could do the same, he would scoop her into his arms and prove his love in as many ways possible. It took everything in him to resist the urge, and thought of what he could say to further solidify his love and assure her she was making the right decision. What could he say so she would allow him to touch her, to believe he actually loved her?
Romance! He glanced down at the books next to him and thought back to the romance novels he would often partake in and recalled the beautiful monologues of professions of love and cherishment. He would speak one of his own, a beautiful avowal for the woman he loved.
"Christine," Erik whispered, "Looking upon you that night, seeing how my selfish actions only fueled your hatred–I don't know if it was worth the small amount of time you surrendered to me. Now, with all my immorality on display–I'm not worthy of you, yet I can't bring myself to let you go," he moved from the chair and to his knees, tears once again on his cheeks, "Call me a monster! Be angry with me! But please do not deny me your touch. I cannot bear the pain of its absence any longer. Your hand caressing my haunted face provided me with a feeling I had only dreamed of."
Erik stopped, examining Christine's expression, her own tears wetting her cheeks. He inched closer, testing if she would recoil, but she didn't. He moved to sit between her knees and continued his profession, "Your lips on mine–I felt as if lightning had struck me where I stood. Your body against mine as you took me in your arms stoked the long forgotten coals within my loins. My love for you was only amplified by you giving yourself to me that night. You truly showed me what it was to love and I find myself unable to stop desiring more."
Christine's breath became ragged and her body moved towards him slightly, giving him the courage he needed to continue, "You command me, every breath, every movement, every song–every word that falls from your lips is a force I can no longer resist. My mind tells me to fight the urges, but my heart compels me to give in to my every whim. Your existence is the only thing that is keeping me sane at this moment. I'm afraid if you were not here, I would simply cease to be the man I present to you now and fall back into madness," he took her hands, breaking his promise not to touch her, but she didn't fight him, "Please understand, Christine, you are my guiding light and after being alone in the dark for so long–I need you, I yearn for you. I was blatantly wrong, my love, it is me who belongs to you," he shifted closer to her, his face mere inches from hers, "My soul, my heart, and my body are yours to do as you please. I will rip each one from myself and present them to you if that's what you desire. Take them, and do what you will. Make me the man you long for–the husband you dream of. I will give you the world, do everything you demand of me. Let me stay by your side and love you with all my being. Please, Christine, that's all I ask of you."
Erik groaned internally, while his monologue could surely rival that of any handsome prince, he hadn't planned on being a sobbing mess at Christine's feet. His eyes burned with tears and he had to look away from her to be rid of them with his sleeve. When he looked back, Christine's nose was just an inch from his, her breath filling his senses. The tears wavering on her waterline were threatening to escape her wide eyes and she looked to be in a state of shock. Her hot breath burned his face, and he found himself leaning in, ever so slightly.
Her lips, pink and wet with tears, so close to his. The forbidden fruit, so very very close, but he couldn't have a taste. He didn't dare move any closer, as he feared the temptation would become too great so instead, he breathed in her scent deeply and curiously wondered what she was thinking about to distract himself.
"Christine?" he questioned, taking his hand up to stroke her cheek. "Did you hear what I said?"
"Yes," she breathed, "I need a few moments, if you would allow me to be alone. I am not mad, I just need to think, so, please do not be upset."
Erik nodded, hope spreading through him. She wasn't mad, she wasn't turning him away. She just needed time to process his words. He smiled and slowly stood, her face following his until he was towering over her.
"I will leave you then, please when you are ready, I will be in the parlor," Erik said, leaning down and placing a light kiss on her fingers before releasing her hands. Her beautiful fingers, so elegantly thin, the same ones that would be wonderfully adorned with an engagement ring in the very near future.
"Alright," Christine whispered, a red blush spread across her face once again.
Erik returned to the doorway, glancing at her once more before exiting the room. He rushed down the hallway to the stairs, and practically flew to the first floor.
Music filled his mind, for his muse had inspired him once again.
xXx
Erik allowed the sounds of his piano to fade as he heard light footsteps on the stairs. He sat perfectly still, glancing over his work once more to ensure what he had completed so far was perfect. He had done a fabulous job in the hour that Christine had spent up in her room. Proud of himself, he closed his leather binder and awaited her interruption.
A quiet velvety voice came from behind him, "Erik?"
He turned, falsifying surprise, "Yes, Christine?"
"May we sit?" she gestured to the two chairs facing the fireplace.
Erik looked at the chairs then back to her, and said simply, "Of course."
She took the lead and moved to the chair farthest from him and he followed suit. She shifted her body to face towards him and began, "I have come to a decision and I hope you take it into consideration."
Erik straightened his posture in an attempt to compose himself, "Go on," he said bluntly.
Has she changed her mind? Would she insist on leaving again?
She will leave you, they all do, he heard in his mind, but he ignored it, hopeful that Christine wouldn't betray him again.
Christine crossed her legs, "Well, considering I have decided to stay, and you wish for me to love you, I have come to you with a bargain."
A lump formed in Erik's throat and his shoulders relaxed, "A bargain? What compelled you to think of it?" He bit back a smirk, she was clever. This was not a scenario he had considered. He sat back in his chair and crossed his ankles, studying her.
She nodded, "Yes, a bargain. I couldn't think of anything else. Nothing came to mind but making a deal with you."
A chuckle emanated from Erik's throat, and he raised his brows, "What does this deal entail?"
Christine scratched her arm, her nails leaving red marks on her pale skin. A nervous tic Erik had discovered long ago. Her eyes met his and she continued, "You want my love, don't you? I am willing to try, but if I am not in love with you by the end of the year, then you will allow me to leave and provide me with the means to do so. I will not return to Raoul, I promise you that. My love for him has faded, he proved to me that he does not have my interests in mind, nor my safety. Besides, I wanted to leave him because I'm tired of control. I want my own life and to make my own decisions. I don't want to feel trapped, and I trust you will allow me my freedom while I am here. I do not want to feel like a prisoner."
Erik considered her words, then narrowed his eyes, "That's hardly fair. How do I know you aren't going to wait out until the end of the year and make no effort to love me?"
Christine scoffed, "Do you think so little of me that you don't trust that I will hold true to my word?"
Erik leaned forward in his chair, placing his head in his hands. How could he deny her?
"Fine, I accept. It's only March so we have several months, but you must try. Now, how did you come to think of this deal? I'm rather curious," he looked up at her, a smile on his lips and he leaned back once again, letting out a heavy exhale, slightly angry with himself for accepting such a deal that was so clearly in her favor.
Christine looked down at the hands folded in her lap, "Well, the night I prayed for your entrance to Heaven, I said a second prayer. One of my own words, that God would grant someone the strength and courage to show you what it is to be forgiven and loved. I'm unsure, but perhaps God has answered my prayer and given me the strength and courage I requested. I know it sounds silly, but if it is God's will, then I will not deny it. If it's not God's will, then only time will tell and I believe by the end of the year, the truth will reveal itself."
"Interesting," was all Erik could muster. Her god had entwined their paths to answer her prayer, in her eyes at least. It was rather fascinating how devoted she was to a man who was non-existent. He had half a mind to be jealous of her fidelity.
"There are two more things that I ask of you, if you would allow me to continue," she whispered
Already demanding more of you, she will take what she needs then leave, again he ignored the voice.
"If you must, tell me your requests and I will honor them," he said, closing his eyes and rubbing his exposed temple in an effort to soothe his racing thoughts.
"For one, you must make me breakfast every morning. My father told me that if someone makes you breakfast, that person loves you," Christine commanded.
Erik tilted his head towards her, a strange request, but he would comply, "Breakfast? Well, of course, every morning. The next request?"
Christine smiled, her face flashing with pride, then she looked at him seriously, "This one may be a bit more difficult for you to accept," she shifted in her chair, as if she were uncomfortable, "I wish to look upon you every day, as the man you are."
"Christine, I am yours, everyday I swear it," he confirmed.
She shook her head, "All of you, your mask, your wig, you do not need them in my presence. Please, if I am to love you, I want to love all of you."
Erik stood abruptly and moved to the fireplace, "No, I do not wish to frighten you. That is one condition I will not allow. I'm sorry, but no one can love this!" he hissed, gesturing to his face. No one could, his own mother had proven that long ago, burned it right into his soul so he would never forget.
Christine stood and moved to stand in front of him, "Please, I'm not frightened of you. I beg you to do this for me. You said you would do anything I ask and I am asking this of you."
Erik couldn't argue against his own words, she was right. He had to do what she asked, he had to obey her in every way if he hoped to have a chance to earn her love. He slunk away from her and sat on the chair again and began crying. Of all things, why would she ask this of him? She had to know he would have to refuse.
Trickery! Don't be fooled by such a ploy! She will only laugh at you! the voice was angry, but what was he to do? He could not deny Christine.
"Erik, please," she pleaded again, then he felt her touch. Her hand was on his bare cheek, wiping away the tears that streaked down his face. He was in no position to refuse, if she wished it, then it would be hers. He found himself giving a small nod of assurance and he closed his eyes, awaiting the screams of terror that would certaintly follow his unmasking.
Erik felt her gentle fingers creep under the edges of his porcelain mask and soon cool air connected with his hideous features. Then, he felt his wig being pulled away and he knew he was fully bared to her. The deformity that soiled his life, that caused uncountable instances of pain and torture was now on full display to the woman he loved.
His Christine.
And there she was, standing before it, not screaming, not running. Light fingers brushed over his thin yellowed skin and Erik gasped at the gentleness of her touch. Then he felt her tracing the areas of his exposed skull, her other hand making its way to brush through his sparse hair. How could she so willingly touch him? Was she truly not afraid of his monstrous features? It was hard to believe after so many years of shame due to his curse, yet her hands were not even trembling while willingly touching him.
Erik slowly opened his eyes, his vision blurry from the tears that fogged them, longing to see her face. Standing above him, gazing down at the real him was his love, his Christine, her beauty rivaled that of an angel. A soft smile formed on her lips as their eyes met and she leaned down, placing a kiss lightly on his deformed cheek before pulling away and retracting her hands.
She kissed him! On the cheek, but it was still a kiss! Oh, how glorious her lips felt against his atrocious skin. He had to stop himself from reaching out and placing her hands back where they had been.
"See, that's not so bad, is it? Now, I expect you to disregard your mask and wig for the duration of my stay, and don't forget about breakfast," she reminded him, "Now, would you like to make any demands? After all, I do not expect you to be the only one making an effort."
Erik wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve and swallowed the lump in his throat. A demand? He wasn't sure what kind of demand he would make in his position. Something that would benefit both of them would be best, of course, so it had to be her music lessons, "Just one, my love. I would like to resume our music lessons. If I have done one thing right by you, I would have to assume it was giving you my music."
Christine nodded, "Yes, I would very much like to continue our lessons. I need to be prepared to perform at a moment's notice after all."
"Yes, indeed," Erik agreed, "We will start tomorrow evening."
To hear Christine's angelic voice again–he could hardly contain his satisfaction. He would need to prepare music for her urgently if they were to start the next day.
"Yes, that will do nicely, now I shall turn in for the night. I am rather tired," Christine said, making her way back to Erik's side. She leaned down and once again kissed his deformed cheek before turning to leave the room.
Erik grabbed her wrist, then let go after realizing he had broken his promise once again.
She stopped and turned back towards him, "Yes, Erik?"
He stood, hesitantly shifting on his feet, longing to hold her, "Christine, I promised I wouldn't touch you unless you asked me to, and now I'm finding it hard to keep that promise."
Christine gave a quiet sigh, "You can touch me whenever you please. I only ask that you do not steal a single kiss unless I allow it."
Without hesitation, Erik wrapped his arms around her waist, picking her up from the floor and holding her tightly against his chest. He buried his face in her neck, breathing in her scent. She smelled of lavender and lemons and he couldn't help but place his lips lightly on her neck, letting the sweet aroma flow into his mouth. He could envelope her, take all of her inside of himself and hide her from the world, always have her with him. Her intoxicating scent could forever be with him, inspiring his every movement, every song, every breath.
Patience, Erik told himself, and that's what he would do. He would be patient and wait for her to come to him. He let out a breath against her neck and Christine shuddered against him, wrapping her arms around his back, returning the embrace. His body began trembling with laughter and he spun her around once before placing her back on the floor.
"Oh, Christine," he murmured, his entire body aflame with desire. He trailed his fingers along her cheekbone and she leaned into his touch. Then, she pulled from him and without another word, she left the parlor.
Erik watched as she scurried away and silently prayed to any god that may have been listening that she would love him. He fell on his knees to the floor, and touched his cheek where she had kissed him. The feeling still lingered on his damned skin. It was in that moment that he decided his words were true, everything she asked of him, everything that she demanded would be hers.