Christina had gone home to continue resting. She had made him
promise to visit her that night in her dreams. She had anxiously told him
she would worry about him if he did not. He had reluctantly agreed. He was
the Phantom! He slipped into dreams uninvited and unexpectedly. In the past
he would have silenced the offender with a silent threat of death for
asking him to do something. But for her he would do anything. She had
looked so small buried in all the black silk she was wearing. He loved her
in something simple, her nightgown had looked lovely that night he had
visited her. It wasn't covered with bows, or in a dark color. It was white
and creamy and made her look soft. It did not make her look as fierce as
she did in black silk. Before she had left him he had pondered whether to
unmask then, but had thought against it. He should wait until she was
stronger and well rested. He was just giving excuses to ease his mind, but
they would not work for long. He needed to show her, and sooner the better.
Christina slowly stepped down from the carriage with help from one of her servants. The rains had left a scent that smelled of moist jasmine flowers. Spring would arrive in only two months time. She sat down in a chair heavily when she reached the inside of the manor. Erik had looked hesitant about something. He rarely wore that look. She was too tired to think more deeply into it.
Erik had grown impatient. The moon did not seem to rise that night, and the stars took their time coming out to flicker at the earth. In a sense night had fallen slowly over Paris. As soon as he was sure she had gone to sleep he swept himself up into her dreams. He entered her mind, slipping into the shadows of the dream world. She sat again by the fountain, her hand was dipped into the refreshing waters. She had bent down to drink from her hand when she spotted him. She abruptly pulled her hand from the water and smoothed the non-existent wrinkles on her nightgown, which got water all over her in her haste. He almost smiled.
"Christina," He spoke softly. He slowly walked down towards her. He looked her over. Her blonde hair was lying softly around her shoulders in curls, and her blue eyes were framed by long lashes. Her lips were full and lovely. She was wearing a different nightgown that night. It was creamy and had long flowing sleeves and a comfortably tight bodice. She looked like an angel.
"Good evening," Christina answered, a bright smile flickered on her face. His face was etched in seriousness, and his eyes were heavy with some great thought. Her smile faded. She gazed at her lap.
"You are angry with me?" She asked.
"No Christina," Erik shook his head. He was surprised how quickly the conversation had changed. "What sign have I given you that would make you think so?"
"You did not say much when I left this afternoon," She was staring at her hands.
"I was in deep thought," He smiled down at her. She was still quiet. Unusual for her. "Does something else trouble you?"
"No, Erik. I was just wondering if something was troubling you," Christina said meekly. He frowned. She read him well, too well.
"It is true," He said solemnly. She began to say something, but he held up his hand. "But first I must ask you a question,"
"Anything," She murmured. She was looking up at him with that all too familiar look of curiosity. She looked just like Christine in that split second. He almost lost his nerve. Imagine him, the Opera Ghost losing his nerve when he had brought down chandeliers, and strangled men with out thought or pity. He shifted his stance.
"Why......," He began trying to gain back his confidence. "Why have you never asked me about my...face?" He was serious. She looked at him, tilting her head slightly as she pondered her answer.
"What is there to ask?" She said softly. She looked into his eyes. He softened, but then realized he could not be swayed by her sweet face. He had to show her.
"Everything," He said. "Why would I wear this mask?! What do I have to hide?!" He said loudly, his voice echoing strangely. She lifted her chin. He hadn't intended to shout at her. He was going about this all wrong.
"I would not ask you," Christina said raising her voice to match his. "I could not," She stood and faced him.
"Why?!" He asked. His voice sounded tortured. His eyes were dulled with pain. He had endured with the face God had given him and for what? He was frightened of even himself when he gazed in the mirror.
"Because I know what happened before Erik. I don't want to be the one to rip the mask off. I know how that story ends!" She said painfully. She wanted to desperately go to him, to comfort him somehow. She wanted to ease his pain. She would have taken on his pain if it was at all possible.
"I don't want you to be frightened," He said closing his eyes.
"You can't control that, Erik," She said lowering her voice. She took a timid step towards him, and reached out her hand, still far away from him. Oh so far. "I can only say that whatever lies underneath that white mask is not going to affect my devotion to our... friendship," Christina whispered. Friendship... was that it? Was that what sparked when they touched hands?
"Christina, I could not do that to you," He said. "I myself can not stand my appearance. This is not some fickle blemish," His voice was intense.
"I know how the fear haunts you Erik. It is something you feel you cannot control. But I will not desert you, not ever," Her face shone with resolve. She wasn't going anywhere. "Show me what lies beneath that mask only when you are ready," She stepped closer to him. She placed her soft hand against his good cheek. He reached up and clasped it.
"Thank-you mon ange, my angel," Erik gazed into deeply into her eyes. He placed her fingers to his lips, and lightly kissed them. She blushed a deep beautiful hue of delicate pink...
A/N: I'm sure all the ladies are seething at me for not letting them kiss...it will come just give it a few more chapters...sorry again guys...
Christina slowly stepped down from the carriage with help from one of her servants. The rains had left a scent that smelled of moist jasmine flowers. Spring would arrive in only two months time. She sat down in a chair heavily when she reached the inside of the manor. Erik had looked hesitant about something. He rarely wore that look. She was too tired to think more deeply into it.
Erik had grown impatient. The moon did not seem to rise that night, and the stars took their time coming out to flicker at the earth. In a sense night had fallen slowly over Paris. As soon as he was sure she had gone to sleep he swept himself up into her dreams. He entered her mind, slipping into the shadows of the dream world. She sat again by the fountain, her hand was dipped into the refreshing waters. She had bent down to drink from her hand when she spotted him. She abruptly pulled her hand from the water and smoothed the non-existent wrinkles on her nightgown, which got water all over her in her haste. He almost smiled.
"Christina," He spoke softly. He slowly walked down towards her. He looked her over. Her blonde hair was lying softly around her shoulders in curls, and her blue eyes were framed by long lashes. Her lips were full and lovely. She was wearing a different nightgown that night. It was creamy and had long flowing sleeves and a comfortably tight bodice. She looked like an angel.
"Good evening," Christina answered, a bright smile flickered on her face. His face was etched in seriousness, and his eyes were heavy with some great thought. Her smile faded. She gazed at her lap.
"You are angry with me?" She asked.
"No Christina," Erik shook his head. He was surprised how quickly the conversation had changed. "What sign have I given you that would make you think so?"
"You did not say much when I left this afternoon," She was staring at her hands.
"I was in deep thought," He smiled down at her. She was still quiet. Unusual for her. "Does something else trouble you?"
"No, Erik. I was just wondering if something was troubling you," Christina said meekly. He frowned. She read him well, too well.
"It is true," He said solemnly. She began to say something, but he held up his hand. "But first I must ask you a question,"
"Anything," She murmured. She was looking up at him with that all too familiar look of curiosity. She looked just like Christine in that split second. He almost lost his nerve. Imagine him, the Opera Ghost losing his nerve when he had brought down chandeliers, and strangled men with out thought or pity. He shifted his stance.
"Why......," He began trying to gain back his confidence. "Why have you never asked me about my...face?" He was serious. She looked at him, tilting her head slightly as she pondered her answer.
"What is there to ask?" She said softly. She looked into his eyes. He softened, but then realized he could not be swayed by her sweet face. He had to show her.
"Everything," He said. "Why would I wear this mask?! What do I have to hide?!" He said loudly, his voice echoing strangely. She lifted her chin. He hadn't intended to shout at her. He was going about this all wrong.
"I would not ask you," Christina said raising her voice to match his. "I could not," She stood and faced him.
"Why?!" He asked. His voice sounded tortured. His eyes were dulled with pain. He had endured with the face God had given him and for what? He was frightened of even himself when he gazed in the mirror.
"Because I know what happened before Erik. I don't want to be the one to rip the mask off. I know how that story ends!" She said painfully. She wanted to desperately go to him, to comfort him somehow. She wanted to ease his pain. She would have taken on his pain if it was at all possible.
"I don't want you to be frightened," He said closing his eyes.
"You can't control that, Erik," She said lowering her voice. She took a timid step towards him, and reached out her hand, still far away from him. Oh so far. "I can only say that whatever lies underneath that white mask is not going to affect my devotion to our... friendship," Christina whispered. Friendship... was that it? Was that what sparked when they touched hands?
"Christina, I could not do that to you," He said. "I myself can not stand my appearance. This is not some fickle blemish," His voice was intense.
"I know how the fear haunts you Erik. It is something you feel you cannot control. But I will not desert you, not ever," Her face shone with resolve. She wasn't going anywhere. "Show me what lies beneath that mask only when you are ready," She stepped closer to him. She placed her soft hand against his good cheek. He reached up and clasped it.
"Thank-you mon ange, my angel," Erik gazed into deeply into her eyes. He placed her fingers to his lips, and lightly kissed them. She blushed a deep beautiful hue of delicate pink...
A/N: I'm sure all the ladies are seething at me for not letting them kiss...it will come just give it a few more chapters...sorry again guys...