Chapter 12
When I wake up I am alone. A sinking realization spreads over me. You slept with him. You asked him to sleep with you. There was no sign of him now… I check my sleeping gown; it was all intact. He had only held me. Relief washes over me. I had wanted to keep warm… that was all. Right? I should have known it would have led to more than I bargained for. I sit up and stifle a yawn. In the corner of the room a large basin is filled with water. I walk to it and dip my fingers in. It was warm. A warm bath would be nice, indeed.
I undress, unwrap the bandages from my hands as well, so not to get them wet. Sighing, I sink into the hot water. I wash myself, soothing tired muscles. At the foot of the bed a tray of fresh fruits had been left. He had thought of everything. When the water cools I get out, towel off, and redress. I study my hands. They looked a little better. Clean anyway. He would have to dress them later.
I look at the rumpled sheets of the bed. It's then I notice the piece of paper there. I pick it up, and recognize Erik's handwriting.
Christine,
I've gone to make living arrangements for you. I've drawn water for you to have a bath, and left breakfast. I will return shortly.
Erik
Phantom's POV
I waited in Madame Giry's corners for her to return from her morning class. Normally I would just leave a note, but I felt that under these circumstances I should confront her personally. She doesn't notice me when she first comes in. She goes to her vanity and begins to fix her hair. I step out from the corner. She gasps when she sees me in the mirror. Clutching her hand to her chest she turns to me, "Monsieur." I bow slightly, "Madame."
She looks around uncomfortably, "I was not expecting you…" I move towards her, "I'll make this short. I wouldn't want to keep you from your lessons. The young girl I was with the other night, do you remember?" She nods, "I told no one of her, Monsieur, as you asked." I stop in front of her, "I would expect no less… Madame, I have brought her here to the opera house. She is underneath for now, which brings me to why I've come to you."
"I've decided to resume living here again, and the cold dampness of the underground will not suit her. I wish for her to have a room up here, Madame. Her own room. Her occupancy is to be kept private. Do you understand these requests?" She nods, "Of course, Monsieur. I will see what I can do." I nod deeply, "Then I await the location of her room."
I leave silently, moving quickly. I was risking being seen by walking through these hallways in the daytime. I slip through a secret passage and begin to make my way back down to Christine. I hope she had slept well. Holding her in my arms last night had been… ecstasy. I had left her when she fell asleep; afraid I wouldn't be able to control myself. She had wanted me to hold her, yet she still resisted my touch. No matter. It was a start, if only a start.
Weeks passed, melting away into months. Christine moved to her new room. Every morning I faithfully went above to collect her so we could spend the day together. Sometimes I read to her, sometimes she read to me. I played music for her. She refused to play any instrument; she refused to sing. She was growing distant, moping silently, her eyes giving away her sadness. She missed the boy. She missed that damned boy. I could fulfill her needs much better than he. Didn't she see that? She would never want for anything with me. I had left her alone. I had barely touched her even.
Finally, I could take it no more. She was sitting across from me, reading quietly to herself. I stood up and offered my hand, "Come. We're going out." She looks up at me surprised. "Where?" I shrug, "We'll go for a ride somewhere. I can see you feel stifled all shut up down here."
I take her to the stables. She watches while I prepare a horse and carriage. I drive all the back roads of Paris, opting for the scenic view, but also the path we were least likely to be seen on. She sits quietly next to me watching the world pass us by. She touches my arm when a small grassy clearing comes into view, "Oh let's stop here. I'd like to walk some if you don't mind." I don't hesitate to pull over.
I hang back as she wades through the grass. She seems complacent, peaceful, calm. I had been right. Sunshine and fresh air were doing her good. She turns around to look at me and calls, "Erik." I make my way towards her; happy she wanted my company. We walk slowly, contemplatively. "Let's sit here." She points to a shady spot under an oak tree. I spread my cloak over the grass for us to sit on. She sits, spreading her dress around her. "Erik." She says softly. "I…" She trails off. "Yes, Christine, what is it?"
She sighs, "I wish we could go back… home." I frown, "Are you not happy at the Opera House?" She looks down; "It's just I feel as though the whole world has gone on living without us. I miss being a part of it. I miss my old life, my room, the gardens, music lessons…" She trails off. "Raoul?" I ask. She looks at me then, "I do miss him, Erik." I look out over the grassy field. Idly I twist and fold a piece of grass. "But why?" I say finally.
She doesn't say anything. I already knew why. I sigh, "And how can you miss music lessons? You refuse to play." She says softly, "It's not the same here. I can't play when I feel so crushed by all the darkness down there. Honestly, it's maddening. I don't know how you stay down there." I stand up and say briskly, "Christine, there is not a thing I can do. My hands are tied. Had you not told that fool everything, had not led him into my house, we would still be there."
I stand up, "Come… we should return. Dusk is upon us." She stands too and walks silently to the carriage. She stops suddenly, "Why won't you let me go, Erik? You say you love me, you say you have all these plans and intentions… but you seem quite content to treat me as a child… reading aloud to me from silly books. If this is what you intend for the rest of our lives, you should note I'm against it."
I sigh, "I treat you as a child, because you still are one my dear, but if you think you can fulfill a woman's duties, a wife's duties, then so be it. Don't let me hold you back." She says, "That's not fair, Erik. You know what I meant." I shake my head, "No, no, my love. You're right. I tire of waiting for you to grow up. Well, do not fret. No more silly, childish games anymore. I was planning on waiting a while, years if I had to, to pressure any of a woman's responsibilities on you. I was going to wait until you seemed comfortable with it, until you weren't nervous or shy."
"Erik-," She tries to interrupts. I continue though, "But it seems you think you are ready, so I won't hesitate to-," She says fiercely, "Erik, stop it." I stare at her, fuming, "Oh, but I won't. You can be sure of that." I non-too-gently help her onto the carriage. The ride back to the Opera House was going to be a long, silent one.
Christine's POV
I sat tensely next to him. He keeps his eyes on the road, not once glancing my way. I sigh. "What?" He says coldly. I study my hands; "I didn't say anything." Out of the corner of my eye I see him look at me, "But you want to. Go on, what is it?" I say quietly, "I don't why you're so angry. I just asked you a question." He stops the horse and turns to face me completely, "Tell me you love me, Christine. Tell me you love me so I can dream…peacefully." He sighs and says simply, "Of course you don't love me. But you will. You will."
I look down, "Erik, it's not…" I stumble around my words, "It's not like that. I… I don't know if I can ever… If I will ever love you like… like you say you love me." His face falls. I say quietly, "How can I now, Erik? How can I? It's not like it was. We're not the same anymore. Too much has happened." He says calmly, "Of course it's the same, Christine. I've only eliminated the distractions. Don't let your mind lie to you. You do love me."
I turn away from him. It was no use. I could not make him understand. "Take me back." I tell him. "Please, I just want to go back." Neither of us says another word. It is dark by the time we reach the Opera House. I finally break the icy silence, "I can find my way to my room by myself." He ignores me and takes my hand as to lead me himself. I pull away, "I said I'll be all right, Erik. Let me go, please." He holds my hand firmly and leads the way. I give up and let him.
It takes my eyes getting used the dark before I realize we're not going back to my room. We were headed to his lair. I sigh, tired, and pull on his hand, "No, Erik. Take me to my room. I want to go to my room and sleep." He doesn't look at me, "Not now, Christine." I plead, "Now, Erik. Please. I'm tired. I want to lie down." He turns to me, his face a mask of annoyance, "I said later, Christine. I'll take you to your room later. There's still much left to discuss, Christine."
I shake my head, "Then it can wait until the morning, Erik. I wish to retire now." He sneers, "And I wish to talk instead." I follow him stubbornly, purposely stumbling and walking slowly. He doesn't seem to notice or even care. Only when we finally do reach his dark underground home does he let go of my hand. He moves swiftly, purposely, lighting candles, then sits at his organ and nervously shuffles his papers.
I stand near a shelf overflowing with books and music. "Are you going to ignore me now?" I question. He pauses his rearranging and looks at me. "No. I'm not. Come, come over here, Christine." I stand still, making no move to go to him. He holds out his hand, beckoning, "Come, child, don't be shy." He stands up and gestures to his chairs, "Let us sit and be comfortable. Please." He's being polite, gentle.
I sit gingerly on the edge of a chair then sink back into it, tired. Erik sits too and folds his hands, resting them on his knee. "Christine." He says firmly. I settle my eyes on his face, "Erik." He shakes his head, "No, just listen for a minute." He fidgets for a moment then goes on, "I… I fear I may have taken a somewhat… harsh approach in… Well, I hadn't planned to be so forceful when I asked-told you that we were to… marry." I sigh and look away, "I can't talk to about this right now, Erik."
He puts up a hand, "Hear me out, Christine. None of this was supposed to happen, you see. I hadn't planned it like this. I had always imagined it differently from this… you'd be older… we wouldn't be here… no matter now, though. What I wanted to tell you tonight was…" He trails off. Sighing he stands up and walks over to me. He crouches down in front of me. "Christine…" He whispers. He takes my hand and presses something small and hard in it. "Christine, put it on. Put it on." I open my hand and see a small gold ring.
I nearly drop it. He takes it from me and slips it on my finger. "There, you see? Isn't it beautiful? Do you like it Christine?" His voice is soft, but I can only hear the danger behind it. Hot tears are sliding down my cheeks. He brushes them away with his fingertips. "I love you, Christine. Say you love me. Say it. Say that you'll be mine." I pull my hand out of his. "I can't, Erik. I can't."
His face darkens, "I'm giving you a choice, Christine." His voice is deep now. "I'm being nice. Think of how much happier you'll be if you just agree to be mine, instead of me having to force myself on you all the time. Think of it. Let's try it again, Christine. Say it. Say it and be happy." I shudder and shake my head, "No, Erik, no."
He looks down and sighs deeply. "You reject me. All I've done for you… and you reject me." I shake my head, "No, Erik. It's not; I just can't right now. Just not now Erik. That's all." He looks up at me, "But, Christine, you said yourself today… you're no longer a child." He gives me a small sad smile and whispers; "I'm not waiting anymore."
