Chapter 13: Days Of Song, Nights Of Love

Erik watched over Christine for the next couple of hours, not daring to settle down beside her for fear of surrendering to sleep, which was not an option at the moment. He was waiting for Toulouse to bring him news of Raoul. He paced the room slightly worried that Christine had not awakened yet, but she was breathing. He breathed out a sigh of relief as her eyes fluttered open.

"Erik?" She called to him, reaching out. He went to her and sat down beside her. She smiled as he came into her blurry view. She put a hand to his face. She knew that he was trying very hard not to return to the Moulin Rouge to break Raoul's neck. There was something there in his eyes, something mischievous and secretive, the look that sent sensual chills through her body.

"What have you been up to?" She prayed he hadn't killed Raoul, she wouldn't be able to handle it at the moment, but she trusted him enough to know it probably wasn't that.

He smiled, and Christine could feel the icy fingers going up and down her spine. He saw the goose bumps and controlled the urge to cause them to continue throughout her body.

"Well, in two hours, I made you the new Prima Donna of the Opera house and the Moulin Rouge all the while you were sleeping." He chuckled as she stared wide-eyed at him with a look of pure joy and confusion. "You must go see the managers tomorrow at noon. Ignore Andre however, I think he had an infatuation with Carlotta."

Christine threw her arms around Erik, shocking him slightly. "Thank you…for everything, especially your love." He lowered his lips to hers, burying his hands in her mass of curls. She made a sound as if she had just tasted chocolate for the first time. He pushed the robe from her shoulders, feeling her shudder with delight as he did so. He could do this every day and never get bored, ever.

"You taste so good like vanilla, you're so soft like silk." She felt his tongue run over her collarbone and up her neck as his hands skillfully made their way over the slip and down her legs. She savored each new sensation he brought upon her, giving into those hands, those wonderful god-given hands. She had no idea her soul could take such flight even when clothed. She sat in his lap, straddling him. He closed his eyes as she slowly removed the mask, he was all to used to her doing this by now. He felt her soft lips on his sandpaper skin, she was so wonderful, so, so wonderful. Where did he go right? How did he end up here? Here on earth with his fallen angel. A wonderful sensation came over him as she slipped her tongue into his mouth, meshing hers with his. He breathed in deeply, taking the moment in. Putting his hands on her hips, he returned the kiss, enhancing the moment so they were soon rolling around on the bed. He stopped and looked down at her beautiful form underneath his body. She wore the necklace he had given her, it was a twisted bit of silver, a diamond imbedded within. It symbolized their love, he was the twisted bit of silver, and she was the diamond. It gave an unnatural glow against her pale skin. He still wore her locket over his heart. He would never take it off, ever. He kissed her passionately, but stopped before they went too far.

"Toulouse is coming over my dear, I think it would be most embarrassing if we were caught in bed again." He kissed her cheek and brushed his fingers over the skin above her breast.

"I love you." Christine wanted to make sure he knew it.

"I love you." He answered entwining his leg with hers.

She felt his black silk shirt between her fingers, he wanted nothing more than for her to rip it off and make sweet love to him. He was about to give into his fantasy, lowering his body back down to hers watching her close her eyes more and more as he got closer and closer. It was rudely interrupted however, by the sound of knocking. Erik sighed, his breath tickled Christine's face. She opened her eyes and looked into Erik's. She smirked looking at Erik's disappointed face. He saw her and grinned impishly.

"You find the torture amusing?" He poked her in the stomach and she let out a shriek of laughter. He loved how she was ticklish. He poked her again and she doubled over, trying to protect herself. He was soon poking everything that was vulnerable until she somehow ended up on top of him. She laughed as he looked around trying to figure out how it had happened, then she grabbed him by the collar and kissed him with dangerous passion. He felt her curls brush his face and her breasts push up against his chest.

"Toulouse can wait." He quickly pulled off his shirt, not breaking the bond on their lips.

"Mmm." She agreed fully with him, taking his hands and leading them to where the skin tingled and shuddered. She moaned as he dug his lips into her neck. Sweet flesh tingled her senses as Erik pulled off the slip and fused their bodies together. She felt his hands run up and down her back slowly as if he was teasing her. Her hands brushed the muscles on his chest, so soft yet so cold and in need of her touch. The flame of passion had now been turned into a thrashing wave, taking the two lovers as its prey. Erik rolled on top of Christine, taking back the control. She clung to his shoulders as if they would never see each other again. He lowered himself onto her and closed his eyes, she kissed those eyes, those icy blue eyes that had such power. She loved those eyes. She surrendered her body to his tongue feeling it slide over her breasts, he smiled when she shuddered, he loved making her do that. They were drowning in pleasure, this was just too good, there was no way this was happening. No, too good. But it was happening, and they were both utterly in love, and her angel of music and her were drowning in the sweetly intoxicating music of the night. She felt his eyes on her and she looked into his, he was breathing heavily, his chest pushing down on hers. He smiled down at her, cradling her head in his hand. He brushed the stray and slightly damp curls from her face. His breathing ruffled her hair. She leaned up to his ear and he tilted his head to hear her sensual whisper.

"Take me now angel, up, up she goes. I wish to taste heaven, only with my angel. My one and only, beautiful angel. My gorgeous angel. Take me now, take me into your sweet, sweet kiss and help me fly."

Erik obeyed, surrendering himself once again. Their arms stretched upwards over their heads, fingers entwining as well as lips. Their bodies fit perfectly together. Christine left all her worries behind and dived into fantasy with Erik. There was no Raoul, no deaths, and no lies. Only freedom, beauty, truth, and above all things, love.

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Erik watched and waited for Christine to fall asleep. Then he dressed and left the room. Toulouse was sitting at the table, drinking wine and reading the paper that Erik had left down there long ago. The headlines screamed about the trouble he had been making at the Opera house.

"You really love her don't you?" Toulouse asked without looking up. He knew what had been transpiring behind the locked door.

"What makes you think that?" Erik's voice was dripping with sarcasm, but in a good way.

Toulouse raised an eyebrow. "Just the fact that you went insane without her by your side."

Erik sighed and sat down across from Toulouse. He poured himself a glass of wine, hoping it would help him control his urge to return to Christine. "Love isn't a strong enough word for how I feel about her. There are no words for it. It's the feeling of belonging as well. Like heaven, but even sweeter. She still calls me angel, I love it, and I respond lovingly whenever that word rolls off her lips." He downed the glass in one swallow. "Sometimes I wonder if it is just to good to be true, if I' am dreaming and this is my punishment for what I have done in the past. But whenever I awaken, she is there calling out to me. Nothing can match the feeling of her voice calling my name, nothing."

Toulouse nodded, he only wished he could know a love like that. "I suppose it will please you then, to know that the viscount has left the Moulin Rouge."

Erik's face lit up. "Good, then Christine can perform there." He looked uncomfortably at Toulouse.

"Alright, I'm on my way, don't have to give me that look twice to know that there is better company in your bed than in your kitchen." He smirked and disappeared through one of the many dark hallways.

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Christine smiled as she saw Erik's reflection advancing towards her in her mirror. They were in her own private dressing room at the Moulin Rouge. She had gotten it only seconds after she had accepted the lead role in a play that Christine had been surprised to find out, was written by Erik and Toulouse. Erik's name of course hadn't been on the music but Toulouse had mentioned it to her in private later on. The story was about, of course, love. But because of the beautiful bohemian era that they were in, Toulouse had insisted upon that truth, beauty freedom and love be weaved into the story as well. The story tells of a beautiful singer who gets caught up in the dangerous whirlwind of the nightlife that she had been forbidden to touch. She falls in love with someone even more dangerous, and mysterious, causing jealousy and truth to be revealed. She is forced to leave him and he realizes that he cannot live with out her. They meet in secret behind her husbands back, but are soon discovered. They eventually overcome him as an obstacle and live together forever in pure happiness. Christine adored the story, but would have adored it more if Erik was playing the lead male role, but he wasn't. He was however causing pleasant shivers throughout her body as he ran his hands over her bare shoulders. He kissed her neck, and she could feel the warmness of his tongue caress her skin. There was a knock at the door and the pleasure instantly faded as he disappeared. After she got over the initial shock of being brought back down to earth so suddenly, she called out for the people to let themselves in. It was Giselle.

"Hello love, how yeh been? Nasty fall yeh had there." She was actually dressed as a lady today. This shocked Christine since she had only seen her in the outrageous costumes of the Moulin Rouge.

"I'm fine, thank you. Is there something you needed help with?"

"Nah, the managers jus' wanted me to tell yah tha' their startin' rehearsals in an hour or so, tha's all." She turned to, but turned and asked a question instead. "By the way, who was the bloke tha' caught yeh?"

"No one, he left before I could thank him." Chrsitine risked a glance into the shadows.

"Too bad, he was quite handsome." With that she turned and left, and the icy fingers returned immediately.

"Now, where were we? Oh yes." Erik returned his lips to her shoulder.

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Day and nights were wonderful for Christine. During the day, she would sing and dance on stage, and whenever she retreated to her dressing room, Erik would be waiting. Then at night, she would walk through her mirror and descend down into Erik's lair under the Moulin Rouge and into the candlelit room of love where they shared a bed each and every night. Erik had bathed her many times as well, his hands running over her slick and wet body, then they would return to the bed and make love. Christine was so happy. Little did the lovers know, that other plans had been made to seal their fates.