Erik sat back and sighed, his arms draped protectively around Christine's shoulders; who dozed at his side peacefully. The adrenaline rush still hummed in his veins and his head was light from the sensations that flooded it – the joy of the kill had never left him. One never truly loses that knack even though they try so hard to suppress it – sometimes it is just too strong to ignore.
His fingers kept an unknown beat on the side of the coach, the adrenaline making him slightly restless as it always did, a welcome distraction from the thoughts that niggled at the back of his mind – was Raoul still following them? Did he know where they were heading? Had he already been into the bowels of the Opera House looking for them both? He tapped louder on the wood, the sound startling Christine who looked up at him quizzically;
"Are you well?" Christine asked quietly, her voice above a whisper
"I'm fine mon chere, just thinking"
Christine noticed that his hand had slipped into his pocket and he fingered the cat gut again, his face a strange mask of calm and restlessness. She moved out of his grasp and placed a small kiss on his cheek, and he relaxed visibly. She ran her fingers through his short hair and coaxed his head down to her shoulder, reaching into the pocket where his hand was and pulling it out swiftly. She placed a kiss on the palm and put placed on her stomach.
"Your reason is there my love, no doubts, no fears, only this… us"
He gave a tired growl and nodded his head slightly. A deep sigh left his lips and he let his eyelids droop, putting his hand behind Christine's body and pulled himself closer to her, taking in her scent and willing himself to calm down. He felt an anger rise in him again over thoughts of Raoul but trying to predict his plans was more difficult than he would admit to himself – he realised that he was helpless for the moment, better to forget yet stay on guard; their lives depended on it.
It seemed as if an eternity had passed before he was aware that Christine was gently shaking him, he had fallen asleep. He awoke with a start and opened his eyes to see her soft brown looking into his amber.
"We're here my love," she said softly
Erik smiled slowly and rose, taking Christine hands in his own and gently guiding him outside the coach. The moon had risen beyond the clouds and bathed the land all around them in pure white. The house stood in front of them; a tall building that seemed to loom out of nowhere but gave off an air of welcome. All around the garden lay a hedge and wrought iron gates parted them which lay open – the rust clearly visible but did nothing more than to add a rustic nature to the feel.
Christine let out an exclamation of surprise as it hit – it was their's.
Turning to Christine, Erik grinned and before she knew it she had been swept up into his arms and carried over the threshold into their new home. Chuckling she was placed down into the house, ready to acquaint themselves with their new home. A hall greeted them, the dark wood of the walls almost black in the darkness. Flicking on a near by light switch Erik was visibly startled as the room was bathed in bright, but soft lighting – the light being brighter than the candles he was used to down in the lair.
They walked through a door to their left and entered a library – the large bookcases, which framed each side of the room, brimmed with books – Nadir taking the opportunity to indulge Erik's love of books with a present of his own. Erik looked around slowly – a complete look of joy on his face. He turned to Christine again and was faced with a look that mirrored his own. Bowing his head, he kissed her deeply and she felt him smile into the kiss as he ran his hands lazily down the sides of her body, as gracefully as a cat nuzzles against its owner.
She mewed as he took her bottom lip and bit down slightly before taking it into his mouth and sucking on it, running his tongue across it swiftly. She snaked her hands up to his hair and ran her hands slowly through it, ruffling it.
When they parted for air, each was breathing heavily, their eyes mirroring each one's need. A smile slowly crossed Christine's face as she took him by the hand and guided him out of the room to continue the tour of their house. "Later…" she whispered, the pleasure unmistakable in her voice, but also a hint of cunning… she's hiding something from me Erik thought with a grin.
Next they came to the kitchen, a small room, furnished with anything they could possibly need.
Afterwards they came to a door – the wood carefully decorated with angels, devils and other mythical creatures. Erik ran his fingers slowly over the carvings, a look of pure wonder in his eyes – the architect in him adored pieces like this with a passion almost akin to his music. "Go on my love" Christine whispered; "I shall stay here"
Erik flashed a quizzical look at his wife, but the stubbornness in her eyes made him opened the door silently, the hinges giving with a soft squeal before stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. The only sound audible to her was a gasp of wonder and soft weeping as she let him take in the sights of that which was his music room. She knew it was his love, second only to her, and not by much.
Feeling for the switch he was again startled as light filled the room – what he saw in there took his breath away. Stacked carefully in the corner was all his musical notes, which he was sure he had left packed in the coach. A pot of ink lay on a small, wooden desk in the middle of the room, new paper and a new quill lay next to it. The wood on the walls complimented the door, carved angels and devils in highly detailed scenes adorned the room, making the tears fall down his cheeks freely.
But it was nestled up against the wall that made his knees almost buckle from under him. A tall organ resided there, its dark wood making it blend in with the room with utter clarity you would sometimes swear that it wasn't there at first glance. Its pipes adorned again with the scenes of heaven and hell. His own conflicting war, his own conflicting quest to find out what lay at the end of this life immortalised in the wood before his eyes.
The keys lay underneath a thick wooden case, the carvings smoothing out to leave it flat and smooth. He walked slowly over to it, as if it was a rare treasure, which he had waited all his life for. Running his fingers slowly over the wood he gently lifted the case up and was struck dumb by the whiteness of the ivories that seemed to call to him steadily. He ran his fingers over the keys, not pressing down but playing to a tune only he knew. He quietly pulled out the stool and sat down before burying his head in his hands and wept silently – never before had he ever felt so loved.
15 minutes later the door opened and he came out, the tears still falling slightly down his cheeks, a soft smile playing across his features. Seeing his wife's smile, he walked towards her and picked her up into his arms, before placing a kiss onto her forehead – her lips tasting the salt of his tears as they steadily fell.
"Why… how?" he whispered
"I have my means" she giggled; "You are not the only magician in this family!
Family… It hit Erik like a ton of bricks, for that is exactly what they were. He had a wife, and a child on the way, he was the head of a family and they had a house. He tried to fight back the tears of joy that threatened to consume him fully as the feelings flooded his soul, even better than the effects of even the best opiates he had sampled in Persia.
Taking his hand is his, he led her quietly up the stairs, theirs was the sweetest music he knew.
