Anyway, I've decided to post it here. I think it should be pretty self-explanatory…
Hope you enjoy!
Chocolate Pudding
Two years had passed since Christine Daaé, contrary to popular belief, had rejected the handsome Vicomte and accepted the marriage proposal of the dark, dangerous, mysterious Opera Ghost.
However, she had recently started to question whether she had, in fact, made the correct choice.
There were a variety of reasons for this.
For a start, she had not had a decent night's sleep in weeks, and tonight was proving to be no exception.
"Hhhhrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr….zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…"
Christine sighed. Really, what sort of a dark, dangerous, mysterious Opera Ghost made noises like that in his sleep?
She nudged the sleeping Phantom gently.
"Erik?"
"Hhhhrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!"
"Erik! Wake up!"
Erik opened his eyes and looked up at Christine sleepily.
"Wha…?"
"You were snoring again, dear."
"Oh, don't worry, Christine," said Erik, sitting up in bed. "It doesn't bother me."
"Well, it certainly bothers me!" said Christine angrily. "It's as if I've got a walrus in bed with me!"
"I really can't help it, Christine," Erik murmured apologetically. "Anyway, lots of people snore. You should learn to put up with it. I find it rather attractive when you do it."
Christine glared at him. "I do not snore!"
"Yes you do!"
Christine folded her arms and stared moodily at the wall. There was no point in arguing with Erik. He was quite happy to argue about the same subject for hours, as long as he eventually won.
"Christine?"
Christine turned to look at Erik again. He had propped himself up on one elbow, the red velvet blanket draped over his pale body in a most flattering fashion. He looked at Christine intently, and pouted.
Christine felt her cheeks go pink. That wretched pout! It was enough to make anyone go weak at the knees.
"Yes, Erik? What do you want?"
"Christine…" Erik began, adopting his most seductive tone. "Why don't you come over here…"
Christine giggled, and moved closer to her husband.
"…and tell me what there is for breakfast?"
Christine opened her mouth, then closed it again, and then opened it again even wider.
"Breakfast?" she cried in disbelief. "Erik, it's two in the morning!"
"Exactly!" said Erik joyfully. "Breakfast time! Do we have any of that delightful chocolate pudding left?"
Christine fell back against the pillows in despair.
"Erik, listen to me, sweetheart. If you continue to eat breakfast in the middle of the night, you will soon be shaped like a chocolate pudding."
"No I won't," said Erik, sulkily. "I never put on weight! I'm just naturally thin."
"Oh, really?" said Christine, pulling the bedclothes away from Erik and pointing at his stomach. "How do you explain this, then?"
"Relaxed muscle?" Erik suggested hopefully.
"Nonsense! It's because you spend too much time sitting in Box Five, watching opera and eating chocolate pudding!" said Christine sternly. "Well, Mr. Tubby Phantom, there'll be no more desserts for you, starting from now."
"But I'm hungry!" Erik whined.
"I don't care!" said Christine. "I'm serious, Erik. You need to start taking care of yourself. If you really must eat something, there's some celery in the kitchen."
Erik turned away from her, muttering something rather rude about celery under his breath.
"I beg your pardon?" said Christine, disgusted.
"Nothing," Erik croaked miserably.
There was an awkward silence. Finally Christine spoke.
"Erik?
"Humph?"
"Would you like to go up to the Opera House tomorrow? Apparently the managers are having a rather important meeting with the Under Secretary of Fine Arts. I was thinking we could go along and cause some chaos and destruction together."
Erik turned to look at Christine again.
"You want to cause chaos and destruction with me?" he said incredulously.
"Yes! Why not? I thought we could cause a few chandeliers to fall down, and perhaps even steal the managers' safety pins. You know how much that annoys them!"
Erik fingered the blanket uncomfortably.
"I'm sorry, Christine, but I can't."
"Why not?"
"I'm officially retired. I don't do that sort of thing anymore. And anyway, the lair needs dusting."
"Oh, how exciting!" said Christine sarcastically. "And I suppose you're expecting me to do it?"
"Actually, I thought we could do it together," said Erik hopefully. "You know, spend some time together…"
"Dusting?"
"Yes! Why not? It'll be fun!"
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"It would be good exercise," Erik added hastily. "Perhaps it would help me lose a little weight. Then maybe you'll be nice and let me have some chocolate pudding."
Christine stared at him in disbelief.
"Oh, Erik! Is that what this is all about?"
"No, of course not!"
"You know, Erik, sometimes I think you care more about your chocolate pudding than you do about me!"
"Well, it is very tasty…"
"Erik, you are not having chocolate pudding! End of discussion!"
Erik pouted sulkily. "But Christine…"
"No buts! And you can stop that silly pouting, as well."
Erik's lips sagged. He looked at Christine sadly for a moment, and then climbed out of bed, wrapping his black velvet dressing gown around himself.
"What are you doing now?" Christine groaned.
"I'm going to sleep on the couch," said Erik quietly. "I don't want to share a bed with a woman who thinks I'm fat and hates my pout and won't let me eat chocolate pudding."
"Oh, don't be so childish!"
"I'm not being childish," said Erik, tears shining in his beautiful golden eyes. "What's the matter, Christine? You used to be crazy about me, but now you just criticise me all the time! I thought you loved my pout, and I certainly didn't think you cared about my weight. Don't you love me anymore?"
Christine looked up at Erik in shock. He seemed ready to burst into tears, his bottom lip quivering.
"Oh, Erik!" she cried, reaching out to take his hand. "Oh, sweetheart! Don't cry! Of course I still love you! Come here."
Erik sat sheepishly down on the bed, and Christine encircled him with her arms. He trembled against her, and gave a choked sob.
"You big softy! How could I possibly stop loving you?"
"Then why are you so cruel to me?" Erik whimpered.
"I'm sorry, darling. I don't mean to be cruel," Christine began. "It's just…"
"What?"
"Sometimes I wonder what happened to the Erik I married," said Christine, instantly regretting it when Erik began to sob again.
"I knew it! I knew you didn't love me anymore!"
"No, no, sweetie! It's not like that! I love you to bits! But when we first met you were dark and dangerous and exciting. I never used to know what you'd do next. It was thrilling. But now you just sit around all day composing and reading and eating chocolate pudding. The mystery's gone. You even cut your toenails in front of me, Erik."
Erik looked up at her miserably.
"You're bored with me," he said simply.
"Yes. I mean no! Of course not! I just wish life was a little more exciting and spontaneous, that's all!"
"Christine. You're married to the Phantom of the Opera. We live next to an enormous lake in the candlelit cellars of an opera house. We sleep in a king-sized bed which is inexplicably shaped like a swan. How much more excitement can you possibly want in your life?"
"I know it sounds ridiculous," said Christine. "I just wish you'd do more - oh, I don't know - Phantomy things."
Erik raised an eyebrow. "Phantomy things? You mean like killing people and blackmailing the managers?"
"Exactly! Well, not killing people, obviously. But you could frighten a few of the ballet girls at least. You know, jump out at them and shout "boo!" or something…"
"And you think that's going to help our marriage?" said Erik, bewildered.
"Yes! Perhaps you could even send some hate mail to Carlotta, or cause her to emit croaking noises again! That would really spice things up!"
Erik stared at Christine in disbelief for a moment. Sometimes he suspected the girl was as mad as he was.
"Listen, Christine," he said, gently. "I know I'm not the Phantom I used to be, but that's because I don't want to do those things anymore. I never did! This is all I've ever wanted," he made a sweeping gesture which took in the room, the bed, and Christine. "All I ever wanted was to live a normal life, Christine, with someone like you by my side. When I lived alone, I used to dream about having a lovely wife and lying in bed with her on Sundays. I used to dream about becoming fat and contented," Erik paused, and patted his stomach. "Even this, which you believe is the result of too much chocolate pudding, is actually an indication of just how happy and normal I feel. I don't want excitement. I don't want spontaneity. I want to live a boring, lazy, normal, happy life. And I am happy, Christine! I'm happy for the first time in my life! Can't you just be the same?"
Christine looked down at her hands, suddenly ashamed. Perhaps Erik was right. Perhaps she was being unreasonable. And she did love him, after all.
"All right," she said glumly. "I understand. You don't need to behave like the Phantom anymore. But you could at least start dressing up for me again."
"Dress up for you?"
"Well, instead of just lounging around the lair in a shirt and slacks, you could start wearing your beautiful suit again. What happened to those sexy ultra-tight trousers you used to wear?"
"I threw them out because they had a tendency to cut off the circulation to my legs."
"Oh, well. Maybe not the sexy ultra-tight trousers. But you could wear a nice evening suit, and that beautiful cape with the gold lining, and those fantastic black leather gloves, and…"
"All right, Christine! All right! I'll dress up for you tomorrow! God, and here I was thinking you loved me for my personality…"
Christine laughed.
"Erik?"
"Yes, Christine?"
"You have a terrible personality."
Erik pouted. "Thank you very much!"
"But I love you anyway, even though you're a big moody monster. You know that, don't you?"
Erik nodded, smiling warmly. "I love you too, Christine," he said.
They kissed passionately, the Phantom making full use of his enormous lips. Then they lay curled up together on the bed.
"Christine?" said Erik, after a long time had passed.
"Yes?"
"Does this mean I can have some chocolate pudding after all?"
Christine rolled her eyes. "Oh, all right. Just this once, if it'll make you happy."
"Oh, it will!" said the Phantom, leaping energetically out of bed. "Thank you, Christine! I'll just go and get it."
Half an hour later, the Phantom of the Opera was asleep next to his Christine, his stomach full of chocolate pudding. Christine reached forward to stroke his plump cheek, smiling to herself. Erik could be hard work at times, but it didn't take much to keep him happy. A full stomach, a soft bed, and Christine's love seemed to be quite enough for him.
Christine snuggled up to him, draping one arm across his chest. Despite their occasional conflicts, she knew in her heart that she had made the right choice.
"Hhhrrrrrrrrrrr….chooooooooooo…"
Or had she?
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please watch out for the next chapter of 'The Price of Fame,' coming very soon!