Chapter 11
Christine's POV
I begin to relax in his arms, in spite of myself. We sat in silence. Strains of the opera music the only sound. I wasn't so cold now. His cape was drawn around me; his arms kept me close to his warm body. He says, "You must be hungry. After the opera I will go get us some food." I say, "That's fine." He says, "The, uh, the bedroom is the corner is yours. I've put your things in there. There's a wardrobe you can store them in." I frown, "Where is your room?" Why did I want to know where he would sleep? I blush; glad he cannot see my face.
"Well, your room is mine normally. So I will retire in the library." I sit up a little, "No, Erik. You should have what is yours. I'll sleep in the library." He sighs, "I refuse to argue with you about this. The room is yours, no more talk of it." I say quietly, "Thank you." He wraps his arms tighter around me. A fluttering rises in my stomach. Why did I get nervous when he drew me to him? His grasp on me is strong, firm… I realize I want more of it. I feel my face heat up. I wanted him to touch me.
I try to think of something else. I should be ashamed thinking like that… But I wasn't. I felt nervous, but not ashamed. What would it be like to kiss him, I wonder? Raoul's kisses were chaste, he always held back. I had a feeling Erik wouldn't hold back. Erik wouldn't be chaste. Erik meant to make love, I was sure of that. But what would that be like? Would he wear his mask still? I wouldn't know what to do. Would he be mad I didn't have experience? Surely, he knew I had never with Raoul. I had told him, surely he believed me. Would I still be able to please him if I didn't know what to do? Had he ever…?
"Are you all right, Christine?" I shake those thoughts out of my head, "What do mean?" He chuckles softly; "You just keep fidgeting. Are you warm enough now?" No. But I say, "Yes, I am. Thank you." He loosens his grip on me, and I stand up. He stands too and wraps his cape around my shoulders. "There. You shouldn't be cold at all now." I hold the cape around me with one hand. I look to my room, "I think I will put my dresses away. I don't want them to wrinkle." He sits down again, "Fine, Christine. I've lit candles in there. If you should require anything please ask."
I walk to the entrance of my room and nod, "I will." The room is small but certainly big enough for me. The bed frame is shaped like a large bird, a swan perhaps. Red satin sheets rest over it. The bed looked largely unslept in, which didn't surprise me. He never seemed to sleep anyway. I knelt down and opened my truck. I hang the dresses up in the armoire that stood in the corner. Cloaks of Erik's were already in there, along with the dark suits he wore. I lean in and breathe in the scent of the dark fabric. It was familiar. Undoubtedly Erik.
I see a pile of letters on my bed and pick them up. They were my letters from Raoul. He had saved them. He had brought them here. Why? I sit on the swan bed and open the first one. I smile at Raoul's words. Was he really gone from me forever? I hated feeling so confused. How can I miss Raoul, yet form thoughts of Erik touching me? I had gone with Erik, but for what reason? Only to save Raoul?
Erik was all I had for so long after my father died. He was the one who woke me from my nightmares. He was the one who cared for me. I shiver, but for how long had he planned our lives together? This is what he had meant all along. From when I was a little girl, he had decided, I was his. I had been so blind, so innocent. I trusted him, gave him my mind, my soul. I would never be free from him. This was the best way. It was better if we were together. I could never be with Raoul if Erik was in my mind.
I fold the letter back up again and place it with the others. I had told Raoul to go. I shouldn't dwell on him now. Just know that now you can never go back... Erik had said. He was right. Raoul would never take me back. I had broken his heart. I had hurt him. It would be better this way. It had to be. For this is what life would be from now on. Life would be lived with Erik. I put the letters in my empty trunk and close it. I look to the door. Erik was out there, probably waiting for me.
Would he want to lie together tonight? I look to the swan bed. Was this where it would happen? What would it be like? Would he be gentle? Would I like it, would it feel good, or would it hurt? I shiver at the thought. Perhaps he meant to wait until I was older or until we wed. Did he still plan to make me his wife? Or would that not matter anymore? I sigh. I shouldn't torment myself with these questions. What happened would happen when it did, and there was nothing I could do about it.
I walk back out into the main room. Erik sits where I left him studying a scroll of something. He looks up, "Ah, good. There's something I wanted to show you. Come." I obediently walk to stand behind his chair. I peer over his shoulder. Drawn on the scroll is a diagram of some sort. "What is it?" He runs his hand over the paper, smoothing it out, "I drew it. It's a map of this labyrinth. You should never leave this part of it. I've set up many traps, which I don't want you to fall into. This map details all of them."
"Why do you have traps?" He looks up at me, "To keep people away. There are many curious people here in this opera house that often try to get a glimpse of the opera ghost." I frown, "Opera ghost? Is that you?" He looks down, "Phantom of the opera, opera ghost… those are the names they know me by. They know nothing of Erik." I say, "But why? Do they really think you're a spirit?" He sighs, "I grew up in these hallways. I've haunted their opera for many years. They do as I instruct, and I keep peace with them. It's how it's always been. This was my only home for many years, Christine."
I leave the back of his chair and curl into the chair opposite him. I felt lonely, and sad. What kind of life had he known? He must have been so alone, so scared. He's studying me from where he sits. His face is serious. "Don't pity me, Christine." He knew my thoughts. "None of that matters now."
As the night wore on, Erik left and returned with food. It wasn't until I tasted it did I realize how hungry I was. I was famished, and ate more than my fill. Erik only picked at his food, barely bringing anything to his mouth. He never ate. Never ate in front of me, at least.
When I'd had my fill Erik stood up. "We shall retire for the night now. Tomorrow morning I arrange for you to bathe. Do you require anything?" My heart pounds as I stand up and tell him no. Did he mean to sleep with me tonight? He leans down and brushes his lips over my cheek, "Good night, Christine." My mind flashes to earlier in the day when he had done the same. Good bye he had said then. What a different place we were at now.
I dress for bed in the privacy of my room. I was quite relieved he meant for us to sleep separately. Though, I couldn't help feeling disappointed in a way. I force myself to put aside those thoughts. I extinguish the light in the room save for one candle beside my bed. I make myself comfortable under the fine covers of the bed. It was so cold still. Closing my eyes, I try to relax, and stay warm.
Time goes by. I felt restless; I couldn't sleep. I kept playing the events of the day over and over again in my mind. I was still shivering from the cold, crisp air that settled around me. Would I ever be warm?
I hear the door open and tense. In the shadow of the candlelight I see Erik's tall form step into the room. He quietly makes his way to the boudoir and opens it. He rustles around for a moment, and I remember his clothes were in there. I try to be still, and let him think I'm asleep. I watch as he sits on the edge of the bed. His gaze goes to my face and I close my eyes. "I shouldn't have brought you here." He whispers. Did he know I was awake? Should I answer him?
He moves closer, "Look at you, you're shivering." So, he knew I wasn't asleep. I turn on my side to face him more. "I'm fine, really." He sighs, "If you'd like… I can make arrangements for you to sleep upstairs. There are ballet dormitories and such you could stay in. Or with a bit of persuasion I could get the leading soprano's dressing room for you. It's too cold and wet down here, you'll catch your death." I say quietly, "What about you?"
"I'm quite accustomed to these living conditions. I can go up and collect you in the daytime. No one will have to know you're there… save for those who have to." I wrap my arms around myself and try to burrow deeper into the soft sheets, "I'd like that." He puts his hand on my hip, "Good. I will speak with Madame Giry in the morning then." His hand lingers on my side, and then he starts to stand up. I grab his hand, "Wait, don't go."
In the dim light I can see surprise cross his face then disappear quickly. I move farther onto the bed, "Stay with me. Keep me warm. Please? It's so cold." I hear him let out a slow breath, "Are you sure, Christine?" My stomach flutters, "Yes." He says carefully, "Have you ever shared your bed with a man before?" I shake my head no. He studies me a moment then says, "I will stay with you then, but remember it is you who invited me into your bed." I hold my breath; "I don't want…" The words catch in my throat. I swallow and try again, "I don't want to..." He lays down next to me, careful not to touch me, "No, not tonight."
He reaches to the bedside table and puts out the candle with his fingers. I move closer to him, and feel for his body in the dark. Why did he have to put out the light? I always slept with a light. I find his solid chest and curl into it. His arms go around me, and bring more than warmth, but security now.
He gently turns me so that my back is against him. His hand moves to settle on my stomach. I tense. He whispers, "Relax. It's just touch. Nothing more." I shift uncomfortably. "Please don't-" I whisper. He cuts me off, ignoring me. "Close your eyes." He says quietly but firmly. "Let yourself feel…" He says. I let my eyes flutter shut. He would do what he wanted. I had asked him into my bed; I could only lie there and let him.
