Legal Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera, I'm just borrowing the characters for some fun... I'll return them when I'm done.
Notes: This is my first Phantom of the Opera fic, and as such is not… grand. I'm leaving it up for historical purposes.
Music
of the Night
Written:
3/18/04
For
him, I know, touching me is his way to purge his soul of its demons.
My lips, he has said, are like ambrosia, making him feel alive and
whole.
Which is why I know now, as I'm wrapped in his arms in this dark, dank corridor of the labyrinth, not to worry.
He is afraid of losing me, afraid of something that could never happen. On our way through the Rue Scribe and into the catacombs I could feel the need to be exorcized pouring from him. Really I'm surprised he lasted so long.
And that brings us to now. His arms around me against this wall, moist against my back and making my pure white dress an unbecoming musty color.
His hands caress my hips and sides through my dress reverently, but I know that his touches will become more frantic soon enough. Each time our bodies meet he always needs this slow, quiet moment, as if he is assuring himself that I am really there... loving him and never letting go.
His lips descend upon mine, and I find that I've been thirsting for this contact between us. Quickly I bring up my hands, deftly puling away his mask and letting it fall to the ground soundlessly. My fingers thread into his hair, holding his mouth to mine.
His arms are tight around me, and I give a blissful sigh as I feel the kiss deepen, both of us hungering for more contact, more closeness. I feel as if I want to melt into him and become a part of his body. To know what he knows, to feel what he feels.
Insistently, he tugs my dress up, and I smile against his lips, pulling back from him and removing my gown, letting it fall to the dirty ground, puddles orbiting it like the sun to the earth. A sleeve falls to the water, but I don't care as I watch him pull away his shirt, showing his thin, scared body to me. But he reveals himself without fear, without being at all unsure. I know that he trust me now, and my love for him inside of me swells.
Erik pulls me against him, relishing in the feel of skin upon skin, and he pulls away then, removing his pants and laying them, along with his shirt, on the cold stone floor like a bed. Gently he guides me to my back, and moves himself over me, leaning on his elbow and caressing my face so very gently, his eyes shining.
"Erik…" I breathe, unsure of what to say, and he smiles warmly.
"My dear, sweet Christine..." He replies, positioning himself over me, and resting his forehead against my chest, hunched over my naked, prone body.
"I love you." He whispers before thrusting deeply into my body, and we begin to move together, rhythms found and love all around us as Erik exorcizes the demons plaguing him today.
We move higher and higher, my voice calling out in soft tones, and he answers back in his own whimpers, as tears fall from his eyes, dripping to land on my chest and causing my body to tingle.
His lips move over me, tracing down my neck, over my breasts and back up to claim mine in a passionate dance.
His head is thrown back, his eyes closed as his body arches gracefully, and a beautiful sound escapes him.
I'm quick to follow, and my own notes join with his, reverberating through the narrow passage and slowly fading away.
Together, we have created our own music of the night.
FIN