A/N: I'm back into my past tense mood…
A.K. Anonymous: You could say that they are in love, but it's not back to what it was before Christine left Erik. Thanks! I hoped I had done that part right.
Sbkar: She trusts that Erik took care of Raoul as he had promised, so I don't think she's going to question him about it. And for the wedding, I don't know if a marriage is in the immediate future. Ah, and Erik isn't all to strong yet, it's just the way he holds himself and the way he talks that makes him seem so powerful. I'll make that more apparent in this chapter. Thanks for point that out!
Clever LassYey! Constructive criticism. I LOVE YOU! I know Christine may be out of character…sorry, but I don't like her without some sort of spine, it makes the story way to repetitive when she's constantly crying. I'll try to make the plot more complicated, (not to make excuses) but this story is my first and I'm trying to learn as I go along.
Alexa: -Dances- I love that people like this story! And yes, I agree with you, his hair was simply awful in the movie. –Gag-
Mademoiselle P: Go E/C phanfictions! Ohh no…it's not going to be in the least bit romantic. I'm warning you now; Erik kinda gets a /little/ volatile because Christine tries to calm him down from his crying fest but instead she makes him very angry. O.o It's my perverse sense of humor you can blame.
CALLING ALL REVIEWERS: I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR YOUR IDEAS FOR WHAT I COULD ADD TO THE PLOT!
Chapter Ten
Don Juan Disaster
"Bring your voice from your diaphragm, not your stomach. Your voice will be more powerful. No slouching, stand straight like this." Erik was on the verge of exasperation. As he pulled himself up on the bench, Christine followed his lead. "Now, start over again." His stern eye stopped her from complaining. They had been singing the same line for an hour now, or so it seemed to Christine, who unfortunately had not able to concentrate since the first half hour. His gloved fingers flew over the stained ivory keys, filling the room with dramatic music.
"Past the point of no return. The final threshold. What warm unspoken secrets will we learn beyond the point of no return?"
Erik's intoxicating voice muddled her senses, making it even more difficult for her to concentrate. As the last thick note echoed in the room Christine began to sing, her eyes closed, her hands rested on her butterfly infested stomach.
"You have brought me to that moment when words run dry, to that moment when speech disappears into silence, silence… I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why…"
"Stop!" Erik commanded, "Your voice isn't reaching its potential on 'why', it needs to be stronger. Lift your chin and try it again, starting from 'I have come here.'"
She glared at the back of his head, the raven-hued strands slicked back gracefully against his skull. Trailing her eyes unabashedly down his frame, she realized he was still gaunt, his shoulder blades were painfully apparent under the thin white shirt he wore, though his waist had thickened, thanks to all the meals Christine insisted he eat.
"Christine?" When Erik was dealing with music he was almost too businesslike. Unlike with other aspects of his life; when it came to music, he demanded nothing short of perfection.
He smiled as he bent towards the organ, his eyes closed against the sweetness of her voice. It was nearly perfect. All of his work had not been for nothing, his angel had returned to him, and now she stood behind him, singing only for him.
"I have come here hardly knowing the reason why. In my mind I've already imagined our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent. Now I am here with you, no second thoughts, I've decided, decided. Past the point of no return, no going back now, our passion play has now at last begun. Past all thought of right or wrong. One final question: how long should we two wait before we're…?"
She was cut off once more as Erik stood, his eyes burning. "One." He said softly. Pulling Christine's head to his chest he wrapped his arms around her waist, reveling in her beauty.
She didn't protest; just let her soft skin melt against his sharp angles. His head rested on her shoulder, his face became lost in her hair. She gasped as she felt his lips move against her neck. Familiar words reached her ear and she stiffened against him until he had sung the last word, it was only then that she allowed herself to relax.
"Say you'll want me
with you here
beside you.
Anywhere you go
let me go too.
Christine that's all I ask of you."
You. The small word hung in the air around their heads, floated down slowly like snowflakes until it covered Christine in an unnerving darkness. That small word, or lack of, had ruined three lives; one indefinitely, the other two for a horribly long time. The wounds caused by Don Juan Triumphant would never truly heal, Christine knew this all to well. Erik's unwillingness to forget and her desperate need to do exactly that would never lighten. Of course, with time, the memories would grow steadily dimmer, like a dying star as it fought its own secret battle in the night sky, but they would never fade completely.
She let Erik cling to her; the torment hidden within his soul broke through his masculine façade with shattering lucidity. His slender hands raked up and down her back roughly, the racking sobs that plagued his body shook hers as well and still she held on, calming him with sweet words.
"Since the moment I first heard you sing I have needed you with me." She prompted as she rubbed his back softly in slow circles.
The sobs stopped as suddenly as they had started. Erik drew away from Christine, staring at her with red-rimmed eyes. Something surfaced from the depths of his soul, something Christine recognized immediately as jealousy and anger. She had seen it control him before. Before she could react, he was repeating all the horrendous quotes that Christine, once in her lifetime, had said to Raoul.
"Can I ever escape from that face? So distorted, deformed, it was hardly a face." He spat back at her. His face that was hardly a face at all contorted with resentment. "The Phantom of the Opera will kill and kill again! I can't escape from him, I never will!" His voice was hoarse with anger as he continued to back away from her, repeating the very words that had flown so easily from her lips years before. "He'll take me; I know we'll be parted forever... He won't let me go. What I once used to dream, I now dread. If he finds me, it won't ever end." He mocked Christine, his voice taking on an unusually high pitch
She stood alone, her own tears trailed down cold cheeks. She would never able to stop the anger that was coursing through his veins. He was right, she had said all of those terrible things about him, never thinking for even a moment that her Angel would be there listening in the shadows. "I'm so sorry Erik. I was young, naive and I knew nothing of true love. I was afraid, deathly afraid of…"
"ME!" Erik's voice roared above her own, drowning out her desperate pleas for forgiveness. The nearest lamp became the first victim; it fell to the floor with a sickening crack. With a primitive growl he whirled on her, trapping her wrists with his he pressed his weight upon her, pushing her painfully against the wall. His breath blew hot and angry in her face. "Can I betray the man who once inspired my voice?" He chuckled menacingly, a forced, ugly sound. "What are you doing here Christine? Why do you return to me, a hideous, murderous monster? If you needed me so badly, why did you leave for two years? Two damn years Christine you left me alone with my whirling mind. I tried to forget you…"
'Not again…please, not again.' She thought. 'This has been discussed, there's only so much I can say to quell his never ending thirst.' She closed her eyes, her lips parted as he came within inches of her face. This just angered him more; he released her from his grasp, ignoring her small whimpers of pain as another lamp fell prey to his raging fist.
"Obviously betrayal comes easily to you, if only the rest of us were as lucky." The sarcasm dripped from his words like poisonous venom. "Leave me!"
She needed not to be told twice. Christine fled to the safety of her bed. She fell into an exhaustion induced sleep; the sounds of shattering glass and Erik's cries of anguish serving as her lullaby.
