Christine awoke from a vivid nightmare, checking the clock that read 3:30.
She went to the dark kitchen to grab a glass of water, in which she took
one sip of and set on the counter before going to check on Erik. When she
found his room was empty, the only logical place other than that was his
music room. She was afraid of what she might see, but opened the door
anyway. When Christine looked in, she found the destroyed organ and Erik
sleeping in still silence near it. The girl's heart dropped as she
realized nothing she had said or tried to do had helped him in the
slightest. She took this note as her own failure.
"What do I have to do to make you happy?" Christine whispered, as if Erik might hear her. "Tell me, if there is any other option than your music... tell me you can live without it..." she stepped inside, closing the door because she feared Erik might wake up by the faint glow of the candle she had set up outside the music room, and for almost an hour, all she did was stand there and stare at him, wishing she could do something for him, and knowing she could not unless he did something himself, first.
With one mighty sigh and a shake of her head, Christine decided to return to the comfort of sleep; it was the only unreality she could handle. Closing the door behind her, she stole one more glance at Erik's troubled form, knowing that not even in slumber could he awake from his horrors.
Erik woke up early the next morning with a sharp pain in his right foot, and his hands throbbing. When he looked down at his fingers, he saw they were bloody, only then remembering the tantrum he had thrown the last night. He suddenly felt like hitting himself over the head; what was he thinking when he ruined the instrument? And yet... he didn't feel very sorry for it... On second thought, he wasn't feeling very much of anything at the moment, besides the fact that he ached from his fight with the organ.
He tried to stand, but with a rattle-sounding crack that he couldn't hear (but could obviously feel), Erik was down again, inspecting his foot which was turned at a gruesome angle. That only made him think... how hard exactly had he kicked that thing? Stupid temper, stupid temper, stupid temper...
Christine busted into the room with a wondering/worried look on her face. Had he yelled? He didn't believe he had... But did he?
"Erik, are you all right?" Christine asked, then added, "I mean... you shouted something."
Erik mentally slapped himself. "Right, Christine, I was... I was dreaming. That's why now - I'm awake," he lied. Christine surveyed him up and down. He tried his best to act casually, his attempts completely ruined for the fact that there was a huge pile of wood and ivory right behind him. Although, Christine didn't seem to notice the organ (odd, it was right there), she DID notice the way he instinctively crossed his arms to dull the throbbing sting in his fingers, and that he stared very guiltily at the ceiling, and the floor, and everywhere else but Christine's eyes.
"You're not, are you? Don't you understand you've just added to your troubles...?" Christine was glad Erik hadn't heard her. She was sure if he had known what she just said, he would have said SOMETHING absolutely crushing. "Come, Erik, let's go into the living room to think about the future."
This time, Erik was watching inconspicuously. "Let's... stay right here. This place is nice."
"Erik, it's a mess," she objected, "Let's go into the other room like we've been doing."
"I don't want to," he grumbled.
"Now you're acting like a child!" Christine said, placing her hands on her hips.
"Am I? I hadn't noticed," Erik said, trying to stall her.
"Come," Christine begged.
"I'm not your dog, thank you."
Christine stormed up to Erik and grabbed his hands, making him shout in pain. "You see!?" She cried, "Why can't you tell me anything? Don't you trust me? What, are you ashamed of your behavior? Well, it's not very hard to notice what you took your anger out on!"
Erik pulled his hands away. "I will do what I like," he hissed fiercely.
"Erik! You're missing the point! All you're doing is hurting yourself worse, and digging your hole deeper, when you could be using all your effort for other things than making yourself suffer! Think of something, that can keep you happy!" Christine huffed. Erik stared. "You know there's something that can keep you going, even if you have no music."
"I know what," Erik muttered.
"Then what is it?" Christine said, this time it was she that stared.
"Something very, very good I can tell you that," he answered pathetically.
"Then WHAT? I'll help you," Christine said, opening her hands and waiting for Erik to reveal what was 'very, very good'. There was no reply to this. "Well...?" She stood, hands on hips again, waiting patiently.
Erik blushed from ear to ear, oh, thank God he was wearing a mask. He couldn't tell her... if she laughed at his answer, he would die. And of she didn't laugh, he would imagine her laughing anyway, and it would be so incredibly terrible.
"I, it's... it's like this... there's... and..." Erik stuttered and glowed brighter than ever - he knew she could see something lighting up, even behind his mask! He was done for!
"Are you ill?" Christine asked, misinterpreting his chattering teeth and the way he trembled from head to toe.
"YES!" He burst with relief, panting softly before returning almost to normal. "Yes," he breathed, "I am feeling quite ill."
"Here," Christine said tenderly, "let's get you in a nice bed, shall we? This cold hard floor is quite unpleasant, and it's no way to recover." With that, she commenced to help him up, but he startled her again with a small cry.
"No!" he objected, waving her helping hands away. "I don't need any assistance.."
"What's the matter with you, Erik?" Christine grumbled, "Of course you do, look, you're shaking all over.." Then she took his hand and pulled it up, all he could do was follow it.
Erik yelled and collapsed back to the ground, grabbing his foot automatically.
"Oh, Erik," Christine mumbled, "You're not very secretive, now, are you? Is there anything else I need to know about? Broken neck, perhaps?" She wondered sarcastically.
"I'm sorry, Christine," Erik said, "It's not like I MEANT to lose my temper... it just happens, you know how it is."
"Yes, we'll need to work on that," Christine said. Then she smiled sympathetically at him, which made Erik go red again.
"Yes..?" He wondered.
"This does put a new meaning to 'don't beat yourself up about something', now, doesn't it?" She said this kindly, looking very sad and wonderful at the same time.
I love you, Christine, and I guess I mean it in a 'so close, but yet so far away' kind of way, he thought to himself, starting to laugh. Christine thought he was laughing at her own little joke, and smiled a little herself. Though Erik continued, and Christine didn't notice the self- mocking tone of his voice, nor that the laughing soon turned into nothing more than sobs altogether.
A/N: YAY! I liked this chapter, I dunno. Why do I even have these A/N thingy's at the end of each chapter anyway, it's not like I have anything to say, or anything anyone wants to hear... unless you want me to say... I'm SORRY for not updating sooner! Sorry, sorry! But I hope I made up for it by writing an extra-long chapter... for me anyway. Ciao! :)
"What do I have to do to make you happy?" Christine whispered, as if Erik might hear her. "Tell me, if there is any other option than your music... tell me you can live without it..." she stepped inside, closing the door because she feared Erik might wake up by the faint glow of the candle she had set up outside the music room, and for almost an hour, all she did was stand there and stare at him, wishing she could do something for him, and knowing she could not unless he did something himself, first.
With one mighty sigh and a shake of her head, Christine decided to return to the comfort of sleep; it was the only unreality she could handle. Closing the door behind her, she stole one more glance at Erik's troubled form, knowing that not even in slumber could he awake from his horrors.
Erik woke up early the next morning with a sharp pain in his right foot, and his hands throbbing. When he looked down at his fingers, he saw they were bloody, only then remembering the tantrum he had thrown the last night. He suddenly felt like hitting himself over the head; what was he thinking when he ruined the instrument? And yet... he didn't feel very sorry for it... On second thought, he wasn't feeling very much of anything at the moment, besides the fact that he ached from his fight with the organ.
He tried to stand, but with a rattle-sounding crack that he couldn't hear (but could obviously feel), Erik was down again, inspecting his foot which was turned at a gruesome angle. That only made him think... how hard exactly had he kicked that thing? Stupid temper, stupid temper, stupid temper...
Christine busted into the room with a wondering/worried look on her face. Had he yelled? He didn't believe he had... But did he?
"Erik, are you all right?" Christine asked, then added, "I mean... you shouted something."
Erik mentally slapped himself. "Right, Christine, I was... I was dreaming. That's why now - I'm awake," he lied. Christine surveyed him up and down. He tried his best to act casually, his attempts completely ruined for the fact that there was a huge pile of wood and ivory right behind him. Although, Christine didn't seem to notice the organ (odd, it was right there), she DID notice the way he instinctively crossed his arms to dull the throbbing sting in his fingers, and that he stared very guiltily at the ceiling, and the floor, and everywhere else but Christine's eyes.
"You're not, are you? Don't you understand you've just added to your troubles...?" Christine was glad Erik hadn't heard her. She was sure if he had known what she just said, he would have said SOMETHING absolutely crushing. "Come, Erik, let's go into the living room to think about the future."
This time, Erik was watching inconspicuously. "Let's... stay right here. This place is nice."
"Erik, it's a mess," she objected, "Let's go into the other room like we've been doing."
"I don't want to," he grumbled.
"Now you're acting like a child!" Christine said, placing her hands on her hips.
"Am I? I hadn't noticed," Erik said, trying to stall her.
"Come," Christine begged.
"I'm not your dog, thank you."
Christine stormed up to Erik and grabbed his hands, making him shout in pain. "You see!?" She cried, "Why can't you tell me anything? Don't you trust me? What, are you ashamed of your behavior? Well, it's not very hard to notice what you took your anger out on!"
Erik pulled his hands away. "I will do what I like," he hissed fiercely.
"Erik! You're missing the point! All you're doing is hurting yourself worse, and digging your hole deeper, when you could be using all your effort for other things than making yourself suffer! Think of something, that can keep you happy!" Christine huffed. Erik stared. "You know there's something that can keep you going, even if you have no music."
"I know what," Erik muttered.
"Then what is it?" Christine said, this time it was she that stared.
"Something very, very good I can tell you that," he answered pathetically.
"Then WHAT? I'll help you," Christine said, opening her hands and waiting for Erik to reveal what was 'very, very good'. There was no reply to this. "Well...?" She stood, hands on hips again, waiting patiently.
Erik blushed from ear to ear, oh, thank God he was wearing a mask. He couldn't tell her... if she laughed at his answer, he would die. And of she didn't laugh, he would imagine her laughing anyway, and it would be so incredibly terrible.
"I, it's... it's like this... there's... and..." Erik stuttered and glowed brighter than ever - he knew she could see something lighting up, even behind his mask! He was done for!
"Are you ill?" Christine asked, misinterpreting his chattering teeth and the way he trembled from head to toe.
"YES!" He burst with relief, panting softly before returning almost to normal. "Yes," he breathed, "I am feeling quite ill."
"Here," Christine said tenderly, "let's get you in a nice bed, shall we? This cold hard floor is quite unpleasant, and it's no way to recover." With that, she commenced to help him up, but he startled her again with a small cry.
"No!" he objected, waving her helping hands away. "I don't need any assistance.."
"What's the matter with you, Erik?" Christine grumbled, "Of course you do, look, you're shaking all over.." Then she took his hand and pulled it up, all he could do was follow it.
Erik yelled and collapsed back to the ground, grabbing his foot automatically.
"Oh, Erik," Christine mumbled, "You're not very secretive, now, are you? Is there anything else I need to know about? Broken neck, perhaps?" She wondered sarcastically.
"I'm sorry, Christine," Erik said, "It's not like I MEANT to lose my temper... it just happens, you know how it is."
"Yes, we'll need to work on that," Christine said. Then she smiled sympathetically at him, which made Erik go red again.
"Yes..?" He wondered.
"This does put a new meaning to 'don't beat yourself up about something', now, doesn't it?" She said this kindly, looking very sad and wonderful at the same time.
I love you, Christine, and I guess I mean it in a 'so close, but yet so far away' kind of way, he thought to himself, starting to laugh. Christine thought he was laughing at her own little joke, and smiled a little herself. Though Erik continued, and Christine didn't notice the self- mocking tone of his voice, nor that the laughing soon turned into nothing more than sobs altogether.
A/N: YAY! I liked this chapter, I dunno. Why do I even have these A/N thingy's at the end of each chapter anyway, it's not like I have anything to say, or anything anyone wants to hear... unless you want me to say... I'm SORRY for not updating sooner! Sorry, sorry! But I hope I made up for it by writing an extra-long chapter... for me anyway. Ciao! :)