Giselle
Chapter 2 - Pointes Noires
He awoke. For several
moments, he wondered what had disturbed his sleep before he noticed
that she had turned away from him. He was just about to reach for her
and pull her back to him when his gaze met the two headless bodies.
Maybe it would be better to get rid of the nasty sight before she
awoke. Though she hadn't minded last night ...
He smiled,
reliving the memory, while he took care of the bodies. Upon his
return, his eyes fell upon a pair of unfinished black pointe
shoes. He took them up and suddenly felt the velvet material of
his seat in box five...
... down on the stage she was dancing the most beautiful Juliet the Opera House had ever seen. Her movements held a sadness that seemed very much unlike her youth.
Her shining eyes were
aimed at nothing, and she seemed to dance only for the moment. The
tutu swayed silently to and fro, while her perfection caused
devotional silence. The black pointes, into which she had forced her
well-trained feet, were clearly silhouetted against her white
legs.
Only every now and then he managed to tear his gaze away
from her, and what he saw made him shake with rage.
There was no one in the audience who wasn't addicted to her devotion and whose eyes did not burn upon her. Especially in the eyes of the young men Erik could read more admiration than he would have liked.
They, too, couldn't detract themselves from her paralysing effect and lost the controll over their features. The whole opera breathed like one being, only existing to admire her. His hands painfully clenched into the cushion of his seat. He knew she belonged only to him - but the way the men looked at her nearly drove him mad. Abruptly, he stood up and left the box, ran into her dressing room and concealed himself behind her paravon to wait for the ending of the performance.
Even there he could smell her perfume and again, his jealousy crept threw his venes. After some time he heard the thunderous applause and he sighed in relief. Those men wouldn't be able to savour her look much longer.
The door was silently opened and he heard light footsteps approach the paravon. A man's voice droned though the dressing room and he flenched. "I would like to introduce you to somebody." She turned around with a smile. "Yes, of course," she said.
Another man entered the room. Erik sensed his unpleasant aura. She held her hand out to him who seized it prepossessingly and led it to his lips. "Comte de St. Ives at your service. I would like to ask for your grace once more." His smile did in no way hide his salacious thoughts. Erik clenched his fists and had difficulties to keep himself from doing evil things to the Comte that made him smile maliciously.
"If you would accompany me..."
She seized her cloak from the paravon. Erik gasped. Then she left the room with the Comte and the opera manager. The last thing Erik saw was the Comte's hand resting dangerously close to an indecent part of her body. Even Erik only touched this part only in the dark.
Some hours later he sat on his bed, staring at his hands and imagining the most terrible things. He didn't want to think about what she might be doing with the Comte right now. Hounded, he trembled nervously. Suddenly her steps broke the tensed silence. He jumped to his feet immediately.
"Where have you been?" His voice echoed from the walls of his cave.
She raised her eyebrows questioningly.
"I was in your dressing room - so don't play games." The rage he had felt during the last hours was now breaking free and he wanted to load it upon her with all the spitefulness he possessed.
"Did you not like my dancing?"
"I told you not to play games." His expression didn't allow any objection any more.
She smiled seductively. "Do you really need to know this?"
"He touched you. He touched you everywhere. I can still smell him on you. It's disgusting."
She put her hands around his neck. "How can you be so sure about that..."
He closed his eyes. "You will not put me off of it... not like this... I asked you where you have been!"
She leaned in to him and looked deep into his eyes. "The night is too short to spend it like this..." He got the hint immediately. A knowing smile crept onto his lips. "You seem to be using this night very intensively." She sighed. "Let me show you how intensively..."
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
He was angry that he had given in. Then he turned around to her and brushed some hairs out of her face. She lolled satisfied and smiled at him. He bent over to her and kissed her ear. "If you ever dance for another man again...", he whispered with a calm voice.
For one moment there was fear in her eyes. Then she kissed him, giving her approval.
She awoke. She pulled the sheets aside and looked at her sore feet. Once again she had danced for him half the night, as she always did. He handed her a pair of new, black pointes. She took them and looked at them. "I have worked on them. So that you won't even feel the blood any more."
A/N: Sorry, we forgot: We don't own any of the characters but the Comte. If someone wants to use him, please ask. If not, we're fine. We understand it. We don't like him either.
