a/n this is completely Robert Englund Phantom of the Opera based. This is not any other book or movie based. Please review!
Disclaimer: I own no one in here!
ERIK POV
I cup her face in my hands, holding her gently, lightly. I slowly move her face to mine.
She struggles slightly as I pull her face even closer, her breath spreading across my lips, her breathing faster, but not from lust, simply fear. Eventually the struggle ends and she allows me to kiss her, light and fast, yet blissful and pure.
I pull back, "Now it's simply just a matter of what you choose: love or music."
I watch her face contort with thought, concentration. The slowly she decides, and turns back to me. Deep within her eyes I see the expression that I loathe: pity.
One hand moves from her side to hold my right cheek, and her other later joins the opposite cheek, gently brushing her fingers over the fake flesh of my face.
I feel my eyes flutter before they give in and finally shut.
CHRISTINE POVI want him to close his eyes, and he does. Now. Now is the time that I van expose him, show the world, or whoever is watching us, his true face. But there's something that stops me. His face, his body. It's so relaxed.
He seems so at peace. I can't tear this from him, that I could never do, no matter what this man is, monster, murderer, or anything else. He's right. I must choose, and so I do:
Keeping his eyes closed by moving my hands softly over both cheeks I stand on my tip toes and find his lips in another short kiss.
His eyes open, wide with disbelief, but he catches himself, regaining his composure flawlessly.
"Christine…" he looks at me with sad eyes, like he's on the brink of tears.
I press two fingers to his lips, "Shh."
I find his lips again, this kiss with more power behind it, more passion, more discovery.
My thumbs gently rub the skin of his newest face once more, calming the beast, showing the better side of him, showing the composer, the artist, the lover.
Just as a composers hands discover the beauty a new instrument, his hands roam my body, barely a whisper on my skin.
His kisses move from my lips to my neck, but no further. The he draws back completely, just as the door opens.
The janitor strolls in, seemingly missing seeing Erik and I standing here. He sees us as he reaches for the trash can. "I'm sorry," he quickly blurts out. Erik nods and the man leaves, the click of a lock behind him.
Erik turns his gaze back to me, "Christine, I love you."
"And I love you, Erik," a smile, then a frown, "no matter how much I tried to deny it in the past."
"The past is behind us now," he holds my face.
"I'm still sorry," I whisper, lowering my face.
He places two fingers under my chin, raising my eyes to his again, "I forgive you, Christine, and I always have too."
I throw my arms around his neck, holding as if I would never let go again, even if someone were to try to pry me off.
"Christine," he whispers into my hair.
My long time composed composer looses his composure slightly as I feel him pressing into my hip.
My face burns in embaracement and I am glad that he can not see me. Running a hand absent mindedly through my hair I whisper to him, "You know, there's no reason to be silent about it."
His face turns away from mine, "I'm sorry."
I place a light hand on his chest and whisper into his ear, "Don't be."
"Please Christine," he grabs my hand, "before I have no way of stopping."
Who said I wanted you to stop? "It's alright Erik," I whisper soothingly.
I move my other hand to rest on his chest and lean my head back. His eyes are burning with passion, desire, lust.
He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me tighter to him, his manhood stringing harder against his pants into my side. I don't mind though, my head lost in a rush of desire.
His lips crush into mine, a bruising and rewarding kiss. His tongue slips past his lips, brushing against mine, entering my mouth and exploring it, taking my head to the stars, lost in a pool of ecstacy. I wrap my fingers through his hair and pull myself even closer, if that is possible, leaving no room except for what space our clothes take up between us. While our lips still refuse to break this dance of passion my hands move to his shirt, undoing the buttons of his shirt, and slowly moving it down his arms and off his body.
Our lips finally part, both of us breathless and yearning for more. There is a couch in the corner of the room and it's pulled out into a bed-like structure. He picks me up, swooping my feet out from under me, and places me on my back on the bed.
His hands become busy getting rid of my shirt as his lips meet mine in another searching kiss.
Finally ridding me of my shirt and my bra his lips move down onto my neck, down further to my collar bone, and beyond to my breast. He catches the little peak in the middle, sucking on it and my body arches to meet his. He then moves to the other, my body reacting in ways I've never felt before.
His lips move further then, down to my stomach, tickling my belly button with his tongue, and then reaching my pant line he moves his hands to remove that as well, his kisses tracing down my right leg.
Finally ending his trail he comes back to my face, "You're beautiful, Christine."
I respond by moving my hands to his pants, undoing them and pushing and manuvering them off, our shoes and socks already long gone and forgotten.
I see the swell of him, and pull on his back forcing our hips and chests to meet. He moans into my mouth as I place a searing kiss on his lips.
His hands now roam my body, moving from my neck, to a knee, and the back up, into my inner thigh. He stop there, but only for a moment. His hand moves up further to find my center.
He then only wavers for a moment, replaing hands with his member.
"I don't want to hurt you, Christine, and I know that I will," he whispers.
"It will only hurt this once, and then I'll be yours," I smile and the words bring a smile to his lips as well.
He then starts to enter me, slowly, and then rhythemically. Our moans of ecstacy make music of our own special kind. It's a wonderful noise to me.
Finally we come, him first, and then me, right after. It takes all the strength left in him to roll to his side and not collapse on top of me. But he does roll over, panting as his head finally hits the pillow.
ERIK POVMy vission is still a blur when I feel soft fingers running through my hair. They are the fingers of my angel.
My vission returns and I smile at her, "Christine."
"I'm yours now, Erik, forever," the words are music to my ears.
"I love you so much," she moves so that her head is on my chest, her hair slightly tickling the bottom of my neck.
"I love you too, Erik," she whispers, her breath cool on my still burning skin.
"I will always protect you," I fold one arm protectivly around her.
"I know you will," I hear her yawn and decide to stop bothering her.
"Goodnight, Christine," I whisper.
"Goodnight, my love," she responds as her eyes shut and her breath evens.
I could get used to falling asleep like this.
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the end! please review!