Legal Disclaimer: I don't own anything having to do with Phantom of the
Opera, or enough creativity required to write an amusing disclaimer.
Content Disclaimer: This fic is fluffy, and is most SURELY and E/C romance... so if you don't like that, a have a very simple solution. Don't read!
Dedications: To Jamiekins, duh! Um... oooooooooooooooh this is also for AngelMusic just to be a freak, because she doesn't like fluff... * giggle*
Leave Me, My Soul By: LadyWillow
Written: 4/26/04
She is radiant there, standing on the stage and singing. This is where she belongs. She should be always in the light, bright and smiling, not underground with a monster.
And yet, every night she returns to me. We sing, read, talk even, as if it is common for a disfigured man with the face of death to sit in the parlor of his underground home with the star of the Paris Opera and exchange pleasantries.
I long to tell her what her seemingly-innocent visits will soon cost her, to tell her that she must discontinue to come to me... or soon I will not be able to allow her to leave.
Her final cadenza ends, and she successfully catches my gaze, silently seeking approval, and I give it to her in a simple nod. She smiles.
I retreat from my private box -5- as silently as I came, and navigate my passages with ease born of many long years of use, and I watch through her mirror then as she enters the room with that boy behind her.
I listen as she effectively sends him away, and then she calls out to me.
"Did I do well then?"
My reply is to open the mirror and step gracefully into the room.
"As always, my dear, the Angels wept." I breathe, smiling at her elated expression.
"You are too kind, Erik... always too kind..."
I shake my head at her words, extending my gloved hand for her to take.
"Only when one is deserving, mon Cherrie. Come."
Without falter she takes my hand, and I lead her through the many winding passages and halls, reaching the lake.
Silently I help her into the craft, and pole us across, watching her as she trails her fingers through the water leisurely.
We arrive home, and she retreats to the Louis-Phillipe room to change from her costume, while I go to prepare her tea.
Several hours pass, which we spend reaching and talking. She complained of a sore throat, so I insisted she did not practice this evening. Of course, that left me with the task of finding other ways of occupying time...
"Erik... you're so quiet today... is anything the matter?"
"Nothing to concern you, my dear." But she doesn't seem to accept this.
"Nonsense, Erik. We speak of any and every little thing that bothers me, and I'd like to think you trust me enough to allow me to extend the favor."
And now I'm stuck. I cannot tell her what is on my mind! And yet, after what my first lie to her cost us...
"Christine, you must not come to me any longer." I say wearily, and my regal posture falls, shoulders slumping.
She looks at me, eyes wide, and shakes her head.
"Erik, why? What has happened?" She looked frightened, and I mentally scold myself.
Damn me to the blackest regions of hell... even when trying to protect her, I cause her harm...
Just trust me, Christine. It is no longer safe for you to be around me."
"But why?!"
I break then. The emotions, which have been so close to the surface for so long burst forth and I begin to sob. Ashamed, I bury my face in my hands, turning away so she can no longer see my face.
Alarmed she moves to me, putting a concerned hand on my arm.
"If you do not leave, Christine, I shall never be able to let you go again!"
All is silent for a few moments, and then her hands rest on mine, pulling them gently from my face and holding them in her hands.
I gaze fearfully on her lovely, angelic face, and she smiles, tears in her eyes.
"Every night I sing only for you. I send Raoul from my side, choosing to spend my evenings instead my your side... and you think I would protest if you kept me from leaving? This is where I want to be."
I look at her in shock, and very slowly she stands, keeping my hands in hers and guiding them about her waist. I gasp in surprise at the turn of events as she moves to sit upon my lap.
Suddenly I'm struck by the inappropriate nature of our embrace, and try to pull back, but she holds tight to me, and I relent, holding her close to my body and burying my face in her hair, breathing in the soft scent of her herbal soap and something distinctly Christine.
She pulls back slightly and looks into my eyes shyly.
"I love you, Erik." She whispers, and I smile with the most joy I've ever experienced. She moves her face forward slightly, and my heart stops as her lips touch mine.
I kiss her back, finally knowing the joy of being kissed, being loved.
We pull away slowly, and she reaches out to brush my tears, and my eyes slide closed in pure joy.
"I love you too, mon ange."
She cuddles closer to me, and I let my eyes close, slipping, for the first time, into a peaceful sleep free of nightmares, with my salvation held safe in my arms.
FIN
Content Disclaimer: This fic is fluffy, and is most SURELY and E/C romance... so if you don't like that, a have a very simple solution. Don't read!
Dedications: To Jamiekins, duh! Um... oooooooooooooooh this is also for AngelMusic just to be a freak, because she doesn't like fluff... * giggle*
Leave Me, My Soul By: LadyWillow
Written: 4/26/04
She is radiant there, standing on the stage and singing. This is where she belongs. She should be always in the light, bright and smiling, not underground with a monster.
And yet, every night she returns to me. We sing, read, talk even, as if it is common for a disfigured man with the face of death to sit in the parlor of his underground home with the star of the Paris Opera and exchange pleasantries.
I long to tell her what her seemingly-innocent visits will soon cost her, to tell her that she must discontinue to come to me... or soon I will not be able to allow her to leave.
Her final cadenza ends, and she successfully catches my gaze, silently seeking approval, and I give it to her in a simple nod. She smiles.
I retreat from my private box -5- as silently as I came, and navigate my passages with ease born of many long years of use, and I watch through her mirror then as she enters the room with that boy behind her.
I listen as she effectively sends him away, and then she calls out to me.
"Did I do well then?"
My reply is to open the mirror and step gracefully into the room.
"As always, my dear, the Angels wept." I breathe, smiling at her elated expression.
"You are too kind, Erik... always too kind..."
I shake my head at her words, extending my gloved hand for her to take.
"Only when one is deserving, mon Cherrie. Come."
Without falter she takes my hand, and I lead her through the many winding passages and halls, reaching the lake.
Silently I help her into the craft, and pole us across, watching her as she trails her fingers through the water leisurely.
We arrive home, and she retreats to the Louis-Phillipe room to change from her costume, while I go to prepare her tea.
Several hours pass, which we spend reaching and talking. She complained of a sore throat, so I insisted she did not practice this evening. Of course, that left me with the task of finding other ways of occupying time...
"Erik... you're so quiet today... is anything the matter?"
"Nothing to concern you, my dear." But she doesn't seem to accept this.
"Nonsense, Erik. We speak of any and every little thing that bothers me, and I'd like to think you trust me enough to allow me to extend the favor."
And now I'm stuck. I cannot tell her what is on my mind! And yet, after what my first lie to her cost us...
"Christine, you must not come to me any longer." I say wearily, and my regal posture falls, shoulders slumping.
She looks at me, eyes wide, and shakes her head.
"Erik, why? What has happened?" She looked frightened, and I mentally scold myself.
Damn me to the blackest regions of hell... even when trying to protect her, I cause her harm...
Just trust me, Christine. It is no longer safe for you to be around me."
"But why?!"
I break then. The emotions, which have been so close to the surface for so long burst forth and I begin to sob. Ashamed, I bury my face in my hands, turning away so she can no longer see my face.
Alarmed she moves to me, putting a concerned hand on my arm.
"If you do not leave, Christine, I shall never be able to let you go again!"
All is silent for a few moments, and then her hands rest on mine, pulling them gently from my face and holding them in her hands.
I gaze fearfully on her lovely, angelic face, and she smiles, tears in her eyes.
"Every night I sing only for you. I send Raoul from my side, choosing to spend my evenings instead my your side... and you think I would protest if you kept me from leaving? This is where I want to be."
I look at her in shock, and very slowly she stands, keeping my hands in hers and guiding them about her waist. I gasp in surprise at the turn of events as she moves to sit upon my lap.
Suddenly I'm struck by the inappropriate nature of our embrace, and try to pull back, but she holds tight to me, and I relent, holding her close to my body and burying my face in her hair, breathing in the soft scent of her herbal soap and something distinctly Christine.
She pulls back slightly and looks into my eyes shyly.
"I love you, Erik." She whispers, and I smile with the most joy I've ever experienced. She moves her face forward slightly, and my heart stops as her lips touch mine.
I kiss her back, finally knowing the joy of being kissed, being loved.
We pull away slowly, and she reaches out to brush my tears, and my eyes slide closed in pure joy.
"I love you too, mon ange."
She cuddles closer to me, and I let my eyes close, slipping, for the first time, into a peaceful sleep free of nightmares, with my salvation held safe in my arms.
FIN