Disclaimer: So not mine. 'Cept Dawnie of course.
A/N: I love you reviewers- please KEEP reviewing!
-SOMEONE LIKE YOU-
...Warm as the summer
Erik hated guilt. If guilt were a physical being, Erik would have opened up a large can of whoop ass on it. He hated guilt. It was a real pain.
When he found Dawn the next morning, she was sitting in the kitchen with a cup of steaming tea in her hands. She let the steam hit her face and warm her hands. He approached her without a sound and stood beside her.
"How can you still look at me when you know what I look like?" Erik asked.
She didn't jump, she just smiled. "Beauty isn't skin deep, Erik. It is what is within that is the attraction."
He paused. "So you don't believe me to be a freak then?"
She laughed. At first, he thought she was laughing at him but her comment dispersed that.
"I suppose we can be freaks together then."
'Yes, thank you for pointing out that I'm a freak!'
He smiled at her. How could one girl do this? How could this girl have been treated so cruel? Her heart was a rare one, golden and true. It made no sense to him and yet, he remembered that God had an ironic sense of humor.
After all, only a blind girl saw what no one else could see. The man behind the monster.
Something wet was on his face, a tear. He was crying. Never before had he felt… accepted.
"Thank you, Dawn, for your faith and kindness. It will not be forgotten."
A shadow of a smile fell over her face and she touched his arm. Oddly, her hands were still like ice when she had been nursing the hot tea.
"No, it is I who should be thanking you. You were the first person who saved me, Erik," she paused and gently placed a hand on his unmasked cheek. "I won't forget that." Her voice was fond. He could see in her eyes that she cared for him as well.
Love was growing between them. A timid, testing love. Now, don't get antsy yet. There are as many different kinds of love as there are stars in the sky. They loved like brother and sister, father and daughter, teacher and pupil, friend to friend. As much as Erik wished Christine would smile at him the way Dawn did, he still enjoyed Dawn's company. Things were becoming comfortable in the home beneath the opera. And they both soaked up the quiet that wasn't made to last.
After all, Erik had not forgotten about the approaching masquerade. The plans were formulating even as you read. Things were becoming clearer and his plans more distinct. He knew now, just what he was to do.
-*-
Erik could not sleep. Worry had crept about him and slipped beneath his skin. For some reason, Erik was nervous about the upcoming mask. Just picturing looking at her angelic face gave him chills. Would she cry? Would she scream? Would she look at him cruelly and clutch at her precious Vicomte? It made him toss and turn.
Truly, it was not a good time to be Erik. He hated that he felt so lost when it came to love. He was very inexperienced. Sometimes it made him want to laugh, a man his age who has seen and done things that would make other people cringe and look away was a virgin in the ways of love. Love was a cruel master. It knew how to make you happy and then snatch it away just as quickly. Giving a starving man just a taste of the food that he can never have.
And he couldn't deny that at times he felt as though he would boil over. When they sang together, he wanted her. When he and Christine sang together, it was like sweet misery. He just wanted to stand and hold her, kiss her, touch her, anything! There were times when she'd slip and he'd see her startled eyes met his mismatched eyes. He wondered if she ever saw his deep hunger for her. But maybe she was too innocent for that as well.
Innocence is as much as a sin as a virtue. Innocence is good for children and women, masking them from the horrors of the world. However, it made them ignorant at times. And sometimes, too much innocence is just sickening. If one cannot see what is in front of their face, one should not see at all. And at times, Christine simply was too innocent.
Yes, it can be said the Christine Daae was far too innocent for her own good. She used it as her shield, hid behind it. She enjoyed being the damsel and having others save her. She needed to open her eyes and really see. The Vicomte was sleeping around because she refused to give herself to him before the wedding night. But she didn't know. Not when others so obviously whispered behind her back. When the maid's lipstick appeared on Raoul's shirt. She didn't let herself see. She was too afraid of the world beyond her innocence. And Erik longed to show it to her.
All good things to those who wait…
Erik rolled his eyes before getting out of his coffin and replacing the mask. Stretching, he tried to figure out what he could do with his spare time. A nice read sounded like a good idea. It would calm him down and perhaps will him to sleep. He pulled on his dressing gown and crept silently into the library, making sure not to make a sound. He pulled the door shut and was glad that the well oiled hinges failed to squeak. However, as he turned he discovered he had no need to be so quiet. For Dawn was up and about, running her hands over his books.
"Couldn't sleep?" she asked.
"No," he replied.
She turned to him and offered a comforting smile. He noticed that she didn't look tired at all. He knew that he looked a little worse for the wear.
"Bad dreams?" she guessed.
"Partially," he replied.
The corners of her mouth turned up, "Not the talking type, I see. Could have fooled me."
Erik smiled at her comment and changed the subject. He looked about the library. He hadn't been taking care of his house and he was disgusted to find quite a bit of dust about.
"Forgive the mess," he said. "I'm afraid it's all a bit dusty."
She nodded.
He wondered what she was doing here. A blind person in a library really didn't make sense. He had heard of Braille but had no books that contained any of it. He wondered what she could really do in a library.
"Erik?" Dawn was blushing.
"Yes?"
She held out a small red book. "Could you," she said hesitantly, "could you read to me?"
Erik paused. It reminded him of Christine asking for stories while she sat by his feet. He supposed this was no different except that this was the only way Dawn could really read since Braille was expensive and hard to come by.
He took the book from her and sat in his large chair. Dawn sat on a cushioned stool by his feet, closed her eyes, and listened. He looked at the book and he recalled that it was one he had bought for Christine. He had not read it himself, but he could tell from the prologue he had skimmed through that it was a romantic fantasy, Christine's favorite.
His voice filled the room as he began.
"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl whose stepmother always made her stay home with the baby. And the baby was a spoiled child, who wanted everything to himself, and the girl was practically a slave. But what no one knew was that the King of the Goblins had fallen in love with the girl, and he had given her certain powers…"
-*-
What's the difference between a reader who doesn't review and a malard with a cold? One's a sick duck... and I don't remember the rest but your mothers a WHORE!
Sorry, this is Claire taking out her agression on those mean, lazy people who refuse to review.
A/N: I love you reviewers- please KEEP reviewing!
-SOMEONE LIKE YOU-
...Warm as the summer
Erik hated guilt. If guilt were a physical being, Erik would have opened up a large can of whoop ass on it. He hated guilt. It was a real pain.
When he found Dawn the next morning, she was sitting in the kitchen with a cup of steaming tea in her hands. She let the steam hit her face and warm her hands. He approached her without a sound and stood beside her.
"How can you still look at me when you know what I look like?" Erik asked.
She didn't jump, she just smiled. "Beauty isn't skin deep, Erik. It is what is within that is the attraction."
He paused. "So you don't believe me to be a freak then?"
She laughed. At first, he thought she was laughing at him but her comment dispersed that.
"I suppose we can be freaks together then."
'Yes, thank you for pointing out that I'm a freak!'
He smiled at her. How could one girl do this? How could this girl have been treated so cruel? Her heart was a rare one, golden and true. It made no sense to him and yet, he remembered that God had an ironic sense of humor.
After all, only a blind girl saw what no one else could see. The man behind the monster.
Something wet was on his face, a tear. He was crying. Never before had he felt… accepted.
"Thank you, Dawn, for your faith and kindness. It will not be forgotten."
A shadow of a smile fell over her face and she touched his arm. Oddly, her hands were still like ice when she had been nursing the hot tea.
"No, it is I who should be thanking you. You were the first person who saved me, Erik," she paused and gently placed a hand on his unmasked cheek. "I won't forget that." Her voice was fond. He could see in her eyes that she cared for him as well.
Love was growing between them. A timid, testing love. Now, don't get antsy yet. There are as many different kinds of love as there are stars in the sky. They loved like brother and sister, father and daughter, teacher and pupil, friend to friend. As much as Erik wished Christine would smile at him the way Dawn did, he still enjoyed Dawn's company. Things were becoming comfortable in the home beneath the opera. And they both soaked up the quiet that wasn't made to last.
After all, Erik had not forgotten about the approaching masquerade. The plans were formulating even as you read. Things were becoming clearer and his plans more distinct. He knew now, just what he was to do.
-*-
Erik could not sleep. Worry had crept about him and slipped beneath his skin. For some reason, Erik was nervous about the upcoming mask. Just picturing looking at her angelic face gave him chills. Would she cry? Would she scream? Would she look at him cruelly and clutch at her precious Vicomte? It made him toss and turn.
Truly, it was not a good time to be Erik. He hated that he felt so lost when it came to love. He was very inexperienced. Sometimes it made him want to laugh, a man his age who has seen and done things that would make other people cringe and look away was a virgin in the ways of love. Love was a cruel master. It knew how to make you happy and then snatch it away just as quickly. Giving a starving man just a taste of the food that he can never have.
And he couldn't deny that at times he felt as though he would boil over. When they sang together, he wanted her. When he and Christine sang together, it was like sweet misery. He just wanted to stand and hold her, kiss her, touch her, anything! There were times when she'd slip and he'd see her startled eyes met his mismatched eyes. He wondered if she ever saw his deep hunger for her. But maybe she was too innocent for that as well.
Innocence is as much as a sin as a virtue. Innocence is good for children and women, masking them from the horrors of the world. However, it made them ignorant at times. And sometimes, too much innocence is just sickening. If one cannot see what is in front of their face, one should not see at all. And at times, Christine simply was too innocent.
Yes, it can be said the Christine Daae was far too innocent for her own good. She used it as her shield, hid behind it. She enjoyed being the damsel and having others save her. She needed to open her eyes and really see. The Vicomte was sleeping around because she refused to give herself to him before the wedding night. But she didn't know. Not when others so obviously whispered behind her back. When the maid's lipstick appeared on Raoul's shirt. She didn't let herself see. She was too afraid of the world beyond her innocence. And Erik longed to show it to her.
All good things to those who wait…
Erik rolled his eyes before getting out of his coffin and replacing the mask. Stretching, he tried to figure out what he could do with his spare time. A nice read sounded like a good idea. It would calm him down and perhaps will him to sleep. He pulled on his dressing gown and crept silently into the library, making sure not to make a sound. He pulled the door shut and was glad that the well oiled hinges failed to squeak. However, as he turned he discovered he had no need to be so quiet. For Dawn was up and about, running her hands over his books.
"Couldn't sleep?" she asked.
"No," he replied.
She turned to him and offered a comforting smile. He noticed that she didn't look tired at all. He knew that he looked a little worse for the wear.
"Bad dreams?" she guessed.
"Partially," he replied.
The corners of her mouth turned up, "Not the talking type, I see. Could have fooled me."
Erik smiled at her comment and changed the subject. He looked about the library. He hadn't been taking care of his house and he was disgusted to find quite a bit of dust about.
"Forgive the mess," he said. "I'm afraid it's all a bit dusty."
She nodded.
He wondered what she was doing here. A blind person in a library really didn't make sense. He had heard of Braille but had no books that contained any of it. He wondered what she could really do in a library.
"Erik?" Dawn was blushing.
"Yes?"
She held out a small red book. "Could you," she said hesitantly, "could you read to me?"
Erik paused. It reminded him of Christine asking for stories while she sat by his feet. He supposed this was no different except that this was the only way Dawn could really read since Braille was expensive and hard to come by.
He took the book from her and sat in his large chair. Dawn sat on a cushioned stool by his feet, closed her eyes, and listened. He looked at the book and he recalled that it was one he had bought for Christine. He had not read it himself, but he could tell from the prologue he had skimmed through that it was a romantic fantasy, Christine's favorite.
His voice filled the room as he began.
"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl whose stepmother always made her stay home with the baby. And the baby was a spoiled child, who wanted everything to himself, and the girl was practically a slave. But what no one knew was that the King of the Goblins had fallen in love with the girl, and he had given her certain powers…"
-*-
What's the difference between a reader who doesn't review and a malard with a cold? One's a sick duck... and I don't remember the rest but your mothers a WHORE!
Sorry, this is Claire taking out her agression on those mean, lazy people who refuse to review.