Chapter Three
Memories of a Broken Kiss
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"I wanted you to know that I love the way you laugh
I want to hold you high and steal your pain away
I keep your photograph; I know it serves me well
I want to hold you high and steal your pain…
The worse is over now and we can breath again
I want to hold you high, you steal my pain away
There's so much left to learn, and no one left to fight
I want to hold you high and steal your pain
'Cause I'm broken when I'm open
And I don't feel like I'm strong enough
'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome
And I don't feel light when you're gone away…"
"Broken", Seether
-
"You try my patience. Make your choice!"
Erik gave a sharp tug on the Punjab lasso, and it tightened threateningly around Raoul's neck, making the young Vicomte choke and erupt into a fit of violent coughing.
Christine had never felt more torn or helpless in her life, not even when she was at her ailing father's side when she was a child. She felt panic and fear threatening to overwhelm her at the sight of Raoul, her childhood friend and sweetheart, bound against the cold gates of Erik's lair with the deadly lasso clinging around his neck. One good pull from Erik would snap his neck like a twig.
But…Erik…
Christine could feel her heart breaking apart as she looked upon him. Unmasked in both face and soul, he was completely exposed to her, and as desperate for her to love him as a man dying in the desert was for water. When she looked at him, she no longer saw her beloved Angel of Music, not the feared Phantom of the Opera. She only saw Erik the man, Erik who loved her more than anything else in his life. He was making that painfully clear, that he would go to any measure to make her his, whether it be by free will or force. She remembered the words she had sung to him not moments before…
"The tears that I might have shed for your dark fate turn cold, and turn to tears of hate!"
She did not hate him. She was angry at him, yes, and perhaps afraid, but the words she had sung held no true relevance. She was only hurt that he had resorted to going to such lengths to convince her to stay. If he loved her, why would he hurt her so by killing Raoul? If Erik did indeed pull that lasso, then she could truly never forgive him.
A sudden revelation struck Christine like a physical blow to the head. Hurt? What did she know about being hurt, being betrayed? Twice already she had betrayed his trust by taking the mask from his face. Once had been out of sheer ignorance, and the second was in front of hundreds of onlookers within the Opera Populaire… The anguish in his eyes when she took it during Don Juan made her feel like a monster, the loathsome creature that everyone had described Erik as…
She felt like Eve at the moment of the fall.
She could no longer blame him for his actions.
Erik had been driven to the end of his patience by her, by her childish ignorance. It had been her fault that they were here…
Everything was all her fault…
But now was her last chance to make it all right.
Christine's fear disappeared like smoke as she stepped into the icy waters, closing the distance between Erik and herself. Confusion and fear replaced the anger and desperation in Erik's eyes as she drew closer to him, her own blue depths reflecting a level of calm and maturity he had never seen her possess before. As she stepped forward, he stepped back. Her heart bled with sympathy for him.
"Pitiful creature of darkness…what kind of life have you known?"
Carefully, she reached up to touch the rough skin of his deformity, but he flinched away from her fingers as if he feared she was going to strike him. That one cringe, the way he recoiled from her made her chest ache in crushing guilt.
"God give me courage to show you, you are not alone!"
Before Erik had the chance to pull away again, Christine thrust herself onto her toes and locked her lips to his.
Her angel stiffened like a statue under her embrace, but he did not pull away, nor did he move to hold her back. For a quick moment, Christine was afraid she had made a horrible mistake. When she pulled back, she was met by the sight of Erik's bewildered eyes, looking as if he could not comprehend what she had just done. That was not the memory she wanted to leave him with… Wondering for the rest of his life if her kiss had been real, or if it were only some cruel dream.
Gently, Christine reached up to brush a lock of stray hair from his eyes, then wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself up to kiss him again. Only now the kiss was longer, deeper, and when Erik responded and his lips moved against her own, she was sure her heart would stop.
Never been here before.
Never been this far…
…and never, ever had she felt like this before…
This was so much different than Raoul's sweet, sugar-coated kisses. Erik's kiss was far more powerful, even during his state of weakness and unease, but it tasted of ambrosia and honey, leaving her longing for more. Her heart pounded, her head swam, her blood was on fire. Time froze, and there was nothing else in the world.
There was only Erik.
It was only their need for air that drove them apart, but Christine's eyes stayed locked with Erik's in a moment of everlasting silence. Never before had she felt so complete, so at peace with the world around her. One small, pale hand traced along the ravaged skin of Erik's right cheek, and she could feel his tears under her fingers. No longer did she take heed of the deformity that he hid from the world for so long. She only saw the beautiful soul that had lain dormant under the darkness until now…
It was then that her heart made its choice, and all she wanted to do was kiss him again…
But as she moved to embrace him, she only met empty air. With a startled cry, Christine tumbled forward and fell to the cold water. Coughing, she lifted herself out of the water, shivering, and looked around. Everything was gone: Raoul, the lair, the sounds of the mob…Erik…everything. There was only her and the darkness, standing knee-deep in the icy, misty lake.
"Raoul?" she called out, only to hear the sound of her own echo. "Erik? Erik! Where are you?"
In the following silence, Christine felt a soft breath on her neck, a warm presence against her back, a gentle whisper at her ear…
Christine…
Christine gasped and whirled around, only to meet empty darkness behind her. "Erik…?" she called softly, fighting against the sob threatening to rise to her throat. "Erik, is that you?"
Then, a voice… It seemed to be right behind her, in the distance, all around her… But where ever it came from, she would know it anywhere, in any life…
I gave you my music…
Made your song take wing…
"Erik!" Christine called out again. She began running. She did not know where she was going, or if she was running in the right direction, but it was better than just standing there…
And now, how you've repaid me,
Denied me and betrayed me…
Christine's heart constricted painfully at his words, and her running stopped. Tears coursed unheeded down her pale cheeks.
"No…I didn't mean to…"
He was bound to love you,
When he heard you sing…
"I was afraid, Erik!" Christine wailed, her hands creeping up towards her ears. "I was afraid, I didn't know where to turn! I never meant to hurt you!"
Take her…forget me…
…forget all of this…
Christine clamped her hands over her ears, squeezing her eyes shut. "Erik, please, don't leave! You haven't heard my choice!"
Leave me alone…
Forget all you've seen!
"Erik! You didn't let me choose!"
Take the boat, swear to me
Never to tell…
"You didn't let me choose!"
The secret you know, of the angel in hell!
"You said you loved me! Why, Erik? Why are you sending me away?"
GO NOW! GO NOW AND LEAVE ME!
Christine sank into the waters, which were now rising, closing over her head…
"Erik! Why, Erik? WHY?"
For the second time that night, Christine Daaé woke in a cold sweat, her limbs tangled in the sheets of her hopelessly disheveled bed. Only this time she clamped a pillow to herself, stifling her cries. Every night since the opera house fire, she had awoken Madame Giry and Meg with the screams for her nightmares. Twice in one night was too much.
Christine breathed deeply, trying to calm herself down, muffling her whimpers within the pillow case. Slowly, her heart beat slowed and she gained control of herself, taking time to reassess what had happened in the last few hours.
Raoul had long since gone. Although they had come to a mutual termination of their engagement, Christine still know she deeply wounded him. She did not blame him for leaving, to get away from her. She seemed to have that affect on men…
But her mind did not stay on the Vicomte for long, and quickly returned to the dream. This one was new… Sure, she thought of the kiss between her and Erik every day, but this was the first time is appeared so vividly in her dreams. And with it, the question that had haunted her since she and Raoul fled from the Phantom…
Erik…why did you let me go?
Of course, she could think of a hundred reasons to why he cast her away, turned her away from his life after her last betrayal… Even though he told her…that he loved her…
Then there was that look of longing, of raw hope in his eyes when she returned that last time. And his last words…
"Christine, I love you…"
Christine snorted, reprimanding herself for her foolishness. If he did not hate her when he told her and Raoul to leave, then he must have certainly after she returned his ring. He had given her everything, and the only thing she gave back to him was a broken heart and shattered dreams.
But the question was still unanswered. And it was eating her alive.
With a determined sigh, Christine slid out of bed and immediately began to dress. There was only one way she would ever get an answer…
…if Erik was alive, that was…
Stop it. Don't think about that. Just take this one step at a time. First dress, then write a note to Madame Giry and Meg, telling them what's going on… Then you can worry about Erik and returning to the Opera House…
Picking up a piece of scrap paper and a pen, Christine scribbled a quick note to her hostesses telling them of her course of actions, and asking them to not worry, and not to follow. This was something she needed to do on her own.
Walking as quiet as a mouse, Christine tip-toed through the house, watching out for any loose floorboards. Retrieving her cloak from the pegs by the door, the young dive threw it around her shoulders and stepped outside. Although the sky was still dark, she could see the first gray light of dawn cresting over the homes of Paris. It had begun to snow again as well. She was grateful it was still so early. That meant she could get back into the Opera Populaire with a less chance of being seen.
Taking a deep breath, she began to walk in the direction of the ruined opera house. Her mind was in turmoil. Suppose she did find Erik…what would his feelings be towards her? Would her welcome her back, elated at her return, or curse her and send her away, alone to the world?
She told herself, once again, that was something she was going to have to deal with when the time came.
Remember Erik… You gave me a choice. But you never allowed me to choose before you walked away from me…
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Author's Note: So I had to write my favorite scene from the movie. Sue me.
Wait, don't. Bad idea. I'm poor…
Anywho, I'm really trying not to make Christine into a weeper in this story. Okay, she's a little whiny last chapter, and during the flashbacks…but hey, the girl's had a rough week, and I bet she's horribly confused. So we can cut her some slack.
I hate to say it, but Erik won't be in for another chapter…the last, actually. Sorry… But it's coming, I'm trying to keep a steady pace on this. I kinda have to… Think of this as a fictionalized essay of the reasons why I think Erik and Christine are made for each other, and how they are able to hear each other's wounds. So I need to get all ideas out quickly before I forget them…
