The drinking of tea was a silent process... Erik obviously didn't want to
talk, and only needed the Persian for the company. He let Erik do as he
wanted, to relieve him of as much stress as possible. The drink tasted
nice, and reminded the daroga of his earlier years in Persia where he was a
wealthy policeman... a fine time. And then he met the phantom...
It wasn't that Erik ruined his life or anything... it was just that after a while, the man's stubbornness and pride got the better of him, putting more independent thoughts into his head... and becoming his friend. The Persian knew it was the end of his career the moment he helped Erik escape the Shah- in-Shah, but at the time he would have risked anything for him.
Now, it was different. Erik never wanted to be around him anymore, and would become more hateful of the human race and secretive every day... he just wasn't the same as he had once been.
When night fell, Erik had to let the daroga go back to his home. He decided once Nadir was gone, he could take a trip to the auditorium, to watch Christine perform. So he did just that.
Huddled in the pillar of box five, Erik watched. He watched La Carlotta, and just how wide her mouth could stretch... and he watched Meg, prancing like a doe on stage, her small feet seeming lighter than air. And he watched Christine...
She was a whole different story... What a dancer she was! Such graceful movements couldn't come from another person; she seemed to flow right across the stage. And when she sang, he knew she was terrific, though he couldn't hear a note. He watched her lips curve so perfectly, and the ovation she received was tremendous.
The opera was over too soon, and while the audience stood around, waiting for the back rows to file out of the cramped doors, Erik moved swiftly towards Christine's dressing room behind the wall. When he got there, she had just arrived as well. She was alone.
"Christine, that was an excellent performance," he said in a hushed whisper.
"Erik," Christine smiled softly. "I knew you would come. I hurried back here as fast as I could."
The phantom didn't read, but asked Christine to come back with him to the fifth cellar instead of going home that night.
"That would be nice," she answered.
Erik emerged from the hidden trap door in the mirror, taking Christine by the hand and pulling her through safely. They walked on in darkness and silence, the only guide Christine had was Erik's hand as he steered her through the endless maze of passages. Only when the faint glow of the light of the phantom's house shone on the two of them, did Christine notice his slight clumsy step, which was most unusual for him.
Steering in front of him, Christine asked, "Erik, what is the matter?"
He seemed puzzled. "The matter...?" he trailed off.
"You're not walking normally," Christine answered. "Is there something wrong?"
"Oh, that," Erik sighed, waving his hand. "Yes, I DID hurt myself a couple of weeks ago, didn't I?"
"Erik, I don't think you just hurt yourself," Christine said in a motherly tone, "Let me see your foot."
"No," Erik pulled away, "I don't care. I can't feel a thing."
"I think you're not being truthful," she answered sternly. "Let me just take a look, and if you're fine, then you can expect my apologies, if that's what you want."
"Christine..."
She gave Erik a look that said, 'object and I'll deck you'.
"Let's go inside," he suggested, leading her into the house.
"Will you let me take a look, then?" Christine asked.
"Yes," Erik muttered.
"Good," she said, sitting gently on the couch as if it would fall through if she actually sat on it. Erik decided to join her, but carefully seated himself so that not even their clothing touched. Almost instinctively by now, Erik rested his elbow to the arm of the couch, staring at Christine lips and waiting for her to speak.
"Can I see now?" Christine asked impatiently.
"It's nothing," he tried once more, "I've been just fine..."
"Let me-"
"All right!" Erik huffed. Nothing happened.
"Well?" Christine grumbled.
"Well, what?" He asked slowly.
She made a wild grab for his foot, tearing off his shoe with one swift movement. Erik gave a loud shout of pain and his eyes widened in shock.
"You didn't tell me you were going for it!" He yelled.
"You knew what was coming," Christine answered quietly, staring down to the phantom's broken foot. "This looks simply AWFUL!" She cried, bending down to take a closer look.
Erik rolled his eyes. "It looks worse than it really is."
"I don't think so," Christine shook her head. "It's clearly broken! Shame on you for WALKING on it! And for weeks now, it may not heal properly!"
"I don't mind," Erik grumbled. "I think it will heal just nicely."
Christine took one more look at Erik's purple/black limp foot, and stared him in the face. "Why do you hurt yourself, Erik? Why won't you let anyone help you?"
"It's the least amount of pain, Christine," he yawned in defense, closing his eyes for a moment.
"No. You're going to let me bandage this right now," she answered, "And I don't want to see you on your feet for at least another week! Erik! Are you even paying attention?" She waved her hand in front of his face.
It seemed that all those sleepless nights had just caught up to him, when Christine found that Erik was asleep. Just peacefully dreaming away as she sighed helplessly.
"What am I going to do with you?" She asked the phantom, even though he could not hear her. "This is better, I can say that, you stubborn man. Just get your sleep..."
With a long exhale of breath, Christine pulled his leg gingerly to the table and set his foot right, rummaging around for bandages as his chest rose up and down, steadily... gently...
"I think back on what you've done in the past, and wonder why I put up with you," Christine said to no one, but aiming her talk towards Erik. "And then I make up the excuse that it's out of fear. After that, I contradict myself, thinking but... you, sweet devil, are strangely - when will be the day I finally gather enough courage to admit it to you -... likable."
A/N: Yeah! Yeah, yeah, yeah! What do I have to say for ya'll toDAY? Ahem, 'scuse, to NIGHT... Hope you enjoyed that! And ummm... more to come! Next chapter will be up... soon! :)
It wasn't that Erik ruined his life or anything... it was just that after a while, the man's stubbornness and pride got the better of him, putting more independent thoughts into his head... and becoming his friend. The Persian knew it was the end of his career the moment he helped Erik escape the Shah- in-Shah, but at the time he would have risked anything for him.
Now, it was different. Erik never wanted to be around him anymore, and would become more hateful of the human race and secretive every day... he just wasn't the same as he had once been.
When night fell, Erik had to let the daroga go back to his home. He decided once Nadir was gone, he could take a trip to the auditorium, to watch Christine perform. So he did just that.
Huddled in the pillar of box five, Erik watched. He watched La Carlotta, and just how wide her mouth could stretch... and he watched Meg, prancing like a doe on stage, her small feet seeming lighter than air. And he watched Christine...
She was a whole different story... What a dancer she was! Such graceful movements couldn't come from another person; she seemed to flow right across the stage. And when she sang, he knew she was terrific, though he couldn't hear a note. He watched her lips curve so perfectly, and the ovation she received was tremendous.
The opera was over too soon, and while the audience stood around, waiting for the back rows to file out of the cramped doors, Erik moved swiftly towards Christine's dressing room behind the wall. When he got there, she had just arrived as well. She was alone.
"Christine, that was an excellent performance," he said in a hushed whisper.
"Erik," Christine smiled softly. "I knew you would come. I hurried back here as fast as I could."
The phantom didn't read, but asked Christine to come back with him to the fifth cellar instead of going home that night.
"That would be nice," she answered.
Erik emerged from the hidden trap door in the mirror, taking Christine by the hand and pulling her through safely. They walked on in darkness and silence, the only guide Christine had was Erik's hand as he steered her through the endless maze of passages. Only when the faint glow of the light of the phantom's house shone on the two of them, did Christine notice his slight clumsy step, which was most unusual for him.
Steering in front of him, Christine asked, "Erik, what is the matter?"
He seemed puzzled. "The matter...?" he trailed off.
"You're not walking normally," Christine answered. "Is there something wrong?"
"Oh, that," Erik sighed, waving his hand. "Yes, I DID hurt myself a couple of weeks ago, didn't I?"
"Erik, I don't think you just hurt yourself," Christine said in a motherly tone, "Let me see your foot."
"No," Erik pulled away, "I don't care. I can't feel a thing."
"I think you're not being truthful," she answered sternly. "Let me just take a look, and if you're fine, then you can expect my apologies, if that's what you want."
"Christine..."
She gave Erik a look that said, 'object and I'll deck you'.
"Let's go inside," he suggested, leading her into the house.
"Will you let me take a look, then?" Christine asked.
"Yes," Erik muttered.
"Good," she said, sitting gently on the couch as if it would fall through if she actually sat on it. Erik decided to join her, but carefully seated himself so that not even their clothing touched. Almost instinctively by now, Erik rested his elbow to the arm of the couch, staring at Christine lips and waiting for her to speak.
"Can I see now?" Christine asked impatiently.
"It's nothing," he tried once more, "I've been just fine..."
"Let me-"
"All right!" Erik huffed. Nothing happened.
"Well?" Christine grumbled.
"Well, what?" He asked slowly.
She made a wild grab for his foot, tearing off his shoe with one swift movement. Erik gave a loud shout of pain and his eyes widened in shock.
"You didn't tell me you were going for it!" He yelled.
"You knew what was coming," Christine answered quietly, staring down to the phantom's broken foot. "This looks simply AWFUL!" She cried, bending down to take a closer look.
Erik rolled his eyes. "It looks worse than it really is."
"I don't think so," Christine shook her head. "It's clearly broken! Shame on you for WALKING on it! And for weeks now, it may not heal properly!"
"I don't mind," Erik grumbled. "I think it will heal just nicely."
Christine took one more look at Erik's purple/black limp foot, and stared him in the face. "Why do you hurt yourself, Erik? Why won't you let anyone help you?"
"It's the least amount of pain, Christine," he yawned in defense, closing his eyes for a moment.
"No. You're going to let me bandage this right now," she answered, "And I don't want to see you on your feet for at least another week! Erik! Are you even paying attention?" She waved her hand in front of his face.
It seemed that all those sleepless nights had just caught up to him, when Christine found that Erik was asleep. Just peacefully dreaming away as she sighed helplessly.
"What am I going to do with you?" She asked the phantom, even though he could not hear her. "This is better, I can say that, you stubborn man. Just get your sleep..."
With a long exhale of breath, Christine pulled his leg gingerly to the table and set his foot right, rummaging around for bandages as his chest rose up and down, steadily... gently...
"I think back on what you've done in the past, and wonder why I put up with you," Christine said to no one, but aiming her talk towards Erik. "And then I make up the excuse that it's out of fear. After that, I contradict myself, thinking but... you, sweet devil, are strangely - when will be the day I finally gather enough courage to admit it to you -... likable."
A/N: Yeah! Yeah, yeah, yeah! What do I have to say for ya'll toDAY? Ahem, 'scuse, to NIGHT... Hope you enjoyed that! And ummm... more to come! Next chapter will be up... soon! :)