Today's my birthday! Yay! I'm turning 18! So I though I'd share the happy.
Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed! Sorry to keep you all waiting. -:shrugs sheepishly:- You guys rock my world:)
Much love, everyone.
-bobmcbobbob1 (4/25/05)
Yes, yes... what you've been waiting for (or at least most of the reviewers)... Enjoy!
Christine lifted the covers from a mirror and glanced at her rumpled appearance; her eyes were puffy and red and her hair lay in horrible disarray but she didn't really pay much mind to it. No, she still thought of her grief.
She returned to Erik's bed, where she'd spent the night, and wondered bitterly if fleeing to his home was truly the best of ideas; here his taste and presence only further reminded her that he was gone, likely to be sentenced to die within days. Christine found little rest that night. Each time she closed her eyes, she saw the last look he'd given her, with his pleading eyes and his bleeding soul.
She thrust the cover back over the mirror in disgust. I should have done something but I just stood there. Then I ran. I left him. And Raoul…who's the real monster, Raoul? What have you done? She ambled about his home, absently running her fingers over furniture as she passed, and eventually made her way back to Erik's room, drawing his coat around herself once more while still feeling those strong, comforting arms around her. Christine picked up the music box in the shape of a barrel organ, with the figure of a monkey in Persian robes, and wound the crank.
She sang wistfully along with the tune: "Masquerade. Paper faces on parade, masquerade. Hide your face so the world will never find you. Masquerade. Every face a different shade, masquerade. Look around there's another mask behind you."
"Very nice, Christine."
Christine whipped around at the sound of the voice. "Madame Giry, what are you doing here?"
"I could easily ask the same of you. The whole building was in uproar last night, or so I hear. Are you all right, child?" Her sympathetic tone caught Christine off guard and she squeezed her eyes shut as she sat heavily on the bed.
"They took him. Oh God, they took him. And Raoul did it. I—I didn't know what to do… It was a perfect evening and then they came. I don't know what to do. I just don't know what to do." Mme Giry sat down and wrapped her arms around Christine, rocking her back and forth as she'd done in years past when Christine had mourned for her father.
"There, there my dear. All hope is not lost."
Christine's voice was a mix of resignation and hysterics. "They'll kill him. They probably have him tied up in some dark room, chained and cold. They'll string him up for everyone to laugh. They'll kill him and I don't know what I'll do. I love him."
The simple truth escaped her lips and surprised her. Mme Giry's hand stirred and she pulled the girl to look her in the eyes.
"Do you mean that, Christine?"
She raised a shaking hand to her face and brushed her hair away. The thought slowly registered in her mind; she'd known all along. A small smile graced her lips. "Yes, I do."
"Then I think you ought to tell him. Come, let's go."
"How? Where?"
"Let's get you cleaned up first. I've some friends who can help us. We must not let anyone see you; the Vicomte is so desperate to find you he has only left to set a bounty."
In his stygian cell, Erik gently tested the strength of his bonds; the chains held firm. Cold, cruel metal encircled his wrists and his bare ankles. The dirty white shirt and coarse brown pants they had issued him fit poorly and itched nearly as bad as the burlap sack over his head. He was almost grateful for the rough fabric; curiosity was better than screams and outright revulsion. Resting his arms on his knees, he leaned his head against the stone wall, pulling the sack off to breathe normally and without the stagnant smell.
He glanced at the fabric in his hand and ran his fingers over the roughly cut eyeholes. He caught sight of his arm in the sunlight the filtered through the bars of his cell; bruises ran up his arms in angry colors of purple and black. He inspected himself briefly, aware of new cuts and scars.
Some scars hurt worse than others.
Erik cursed himself for the thought. The taste of Christine's lips was still fresh in his memory; her kiss was still fresh when she betrayed him. Those scars would heal much slower, if at all. No longer did he fear death, he vowed he would welcome it, anything to cease this sort of ache. His chest constricted as he forced his tears back down, his bruised body screamed even with the minor effort; he would at least die with all the dignity and strength expected of the Phantom of the Opera, even if it was merely a façade.
Erik absently looked about his cell. A crust of bread lay next to him and he roughly smacked it away. "What's the point? What's left to live for anyway?" he grumbled to the empty room. He gave a fleeting look to the chains attached to his wrists; it would be easier just to finish it now. He rubbed his hand against his neck, wincing slightly at the bruise left from the rope that had started the whole thing, started the downfall of the Phantom of the Opera.
No, my downfall was Christine.
Erik released his grip on the chain deciding he couldn't end like that, the coward's way out. He would face it all with cold indifference.
Shuffling footsteps echoed in the dark and Erik hastily placed the bag over his face, eager to avoid any more attention; wallowing in misery is best done alone.
He held his head in his hands and stared at the stone floor, his chains clinked gently as he moved. The clanking of keys alerted his attention but as the door to his cell creaked open he retained his focus on the floor.
"Erik!" He inhaled sharply at that voice, her voice, as his insides froze over. Christine darted to his side and knelt next to him. "Oh, Erik, I was so worried. I don't know what I would have done if―"
"If what? You'd probably be happy off and married to your precious Vicomte before I was cold in my grave."
Christine was shocked, his comment was harsh but the malice and resignation that caked his words frightened her more than she cared to admit. "Erik, that's not true I―"
"Isn't it, Christine? Isn't it?" His tone marred his voice and slashed Christine as sure as any dagger.
"Erik, I can't leave you here." Tears began to well up in her eyes. This man before her was stripped of himself, out of his impeccable evening garb and robbed of internal flame. She reached up and tugged lightly on the sack, certain that it was uncomfortable for him.
"Leave it!" he commanded in an icy tone. "Why shouldn't you just leave me here? Why, Christine? Why?" Slowly the ice melted from his voice and his raw, bleeding soul was before her.
"I had nothing to do with what Raoul did. Nothing. I would never do anything to hurt you, Erik. I love you."
He raised his head then, searching for her eyes through the roughly cut holes in the burlap before pulling it off his head and standing abruptly. His hair settled back to his head and he continued eye contact with the woman before him as she, too, rose to her feet. "Yesterday I would have given anything to hear you say that, Christine. Anything and everything. You're too late."
Christine wept openly then, throwing her arms around the broken Phantom. "You can't give up, Erik. We'll get you out of here somehow. I can't lose you."
Erik's resolve weakened and he tried to return the embrace only to find his arms too restricted by his bonds. She smiled faintly, understanding and appreciating the effort. Standing on her tip-toes, Christine gently kissed his lips and caressed his face affectionately. He turned fiercely, breaking away, as she stared up with questioning eyes.
"I allowed myself to believe it once, Christine. Don't do this to me again."
"Erik, I love you. I don't care about your face and I don't care what you've done, I care about you." Her tone turned pleading. "What do I have to do to prove it to you?" She held up her hand, the sapphire glittered even in the dim light and spoke in a quiet voice: "I will wear your ring until the day I die."
Christine moved closer to him and he cupped her cheeks in his hands. She raised a hand to his scarred face and with her voice shaking, choked by her own emotions, she sang softly: "Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime."
Erik froze; tears trickled down his cheeks and he paid them no heed as he again stretched against his bonds, wishing to bring her closer. "Lead me, save me from my solitude. Say you want me with you here beside you." She raised her voice dramatically caught in the passion of her words. "Anywhere you go, let me go to! Erik, that's all I ask of―" Christine's words were cut short, silenced by a welcomed interruption as his lips gently closed over hers.
"I believe you," was all he said. He kissed her again zealously, savoring the fiery sensation her touch shot through him. He ran his fingers through her chestnut curls, relishing that they were softer than he'd imagined. She wrapped her arms around him as she ran her hands up and down his back and he groaned softly, only partly due to his injuries.
"Christine, hurry!" Madame Giry's voice sounded the warning and interrupted the couple. Anxiously, Christine dove into her bag and pulled something out.
"Meg took this from Raoul's desk, she's always been a bit of a snoop. Madame Giry and I thought it might be of some comfort. It's better than a sack anyway."
Erik removed the cover then placed his half-mask over his face. Christine smiled; he was slowly regaining himself.
"But Christine, what can we do?"
"I don't know, we'll figure out something. We'll get you out of here." To seal her promise, she kissed him again.
"I love you, Christine," he whispered against her lips. Tears of happiness and relief rolled down her cheeks.
"I love you, too, Erik."
"Christine!" Mme Giry's voice rang out again as Christine hurried for the door, only to find it blocked.
"I should have known you'd come here, Christine." She froze as she recognized Raoul's voice.
Yeah, again not the nicest place to leave off, but it's not too bad. :)
I only have one more chapter of this left -:sniff:- I really hope you've all liked it.
Please, let me know what your favorite part of "Playing Hooky" was. :)
And otherwise, you know what would TOTALLY make my day, consider it my birthday present(and lead me to post the conclusion (I was considering putting a bar but with my luck no one would respond) all that much sooner): Just click that little box down there, 2 seconds of your time, and Love it or hate it, let me know!
Thanks everyone, it's been a blast! (The latest project is "Once Bitten" which will be E/C if you'd like to check it out...sorry, shameless advertising.)
Take care!
