Demons of the Past
Ch. 14: The Scars Remind Us
Author's note: I had hoped to include Erik's opera in this chapter; but, like many things, it grew legs and ran. I didn't realize I had so much to say…but I promise that next chapter will be opening night for Erik's opera. Will the crowd love it? Will they figure out Erik's secret? Dun Dun Dun…Lol. Thanks for reading, and remember to review! Every review gets a cookie and a Punjab lasso! (if I can steal it from Erik and make mass copies…hhhmmm, I could be rich!)
Disclaimer: My great great great great great great grandfather was Gaston Leroux! That means I own the Phantom of the Opera! (lawyer taps shoulder, holds up document that says some Native American was my six-times great grandfather…oh well. I tried, right?)
P.S.: To HoVis- I got your review from Christine; and you are the only one to pick that little joke up! Congrats! Lol-I like it when a reader picks up the subtle twists I delicately place in my stories…glad you liked! To: Emily- Thank you for the baby names! It was really nice of you to think them up; I especially like the spongebob idea! Lol. I actually did some research for baby names, and I have chosen two that have special meaning. Although I have to admit that 'Erin' is a great way to combine Erik and Christine! Smartie! (grumbles angrily, asking why I didn't think of that…)To: SonKat: What do you think I will do? Would they work together…hmmm. I'll use Raoul's word and say 'intriguing'. You'll just have to wait and see, my friend!
P.S. 2: Erik sings to Christine 'I Could Not Ask For More' by Edwin McCain/Sara Evans, whichever you prefer (well, the parts that I used…I did not use the whole song)
Tear my heart open, I sew myself shut
My weakness is that I care too much
My scars remind me that the past is real
I tear my heart open just to feel –Papa Roach 'Scars'
And now, on with the story…
Christine rolled over slightly in her bed, trying to find a position that didn't hurt her back. After a few moments, she gave up to settle for the comfort of feeling her husband's steady heart beat against hers. Christine leaned her arm over to Erik's side of the bed, only to discover it empty. She sat up in alarm. Erik wasn't in their room…and the sun had yet to rise. Christine moved gingerly to the side of the bed and found a robe. She left her bedroom and started to travel the dark hallway. Christine paused at each bedroom to check on its occupants; Elisabeth and Brian were both still fast asleep. Christine tiptoed down the stairs as quietly as she could. She was halfway down when she heard faint music coming from downstairs. Christine headed straight for the music room.
Erik was seated at his piano. His hair was mused and standing up in the back; his eyes still held the redness of weariness. Erik was maskless, but his right profile was in shadow. He looked up as Christine entered, and stopped the faint melody he was playing.
"Did I wake you, Christine?" Christine shook her head, and Erik sighed. He looked down at his hands a moment. Christine approached closer and sat with him on his piano bench.
"What are you doing up? You still look as if some sleep would do you good…" Christine touched his right cheek, and Erik nuzzled her hand.
"I had…another dream."
"Nightmare?"
"I don't know…it was strange. Normally my dreams are…in first person. I am me in the dream…but this time I was seeing things from a third person's perspective. I saw the little boy, always alone…almost as if I was seeing from my mother's eyes. It was strange…"
Christine pulled Erik closer to her. "Was it the same dreams? Or was it something different?" Erik frowned, remembering his dream, trying desperately to discover why this dream was particularly disturbing to him.
"It was…I wasn't the little boy! Christine, Brian was the boy…I imagined his loneliness…playing by himself, never being able to please his mother. Why, Christine? Why would my mother abandon her children? I can see why she would hate me…but why Elisabeth? Why Brian?"
Christine sighed. "Love, I don't know. Perhaps the reason why your mother abandoned you had nothing to do with your face; perhaps it had everything to do with her own insecurities and issues. Some people cannot be mothers, Erik…maybe she did not know how."
Christine touched her stomach. "It is one of many worries that plague me. What if these babies come and I can't be a mother to them? I never knew my mother…what if I don't know how?"
"We will figure it out together, Christine. I didn't exactly find a manual in my travels on how to be a father."
Christine laughed lightly. "I wonder if they come with instructions…"
Now it was Erik's turn to laugh. "I don't think a book is growing within you, Christine…it would take up too much room from the babies."
The silence fell among them. Christine spoke first:
"I talked with Elisabeth today at some length, Erik. She is a wonderful girl…she was inquisitive about so many things. She wanted to know how we fell in love." Erik's head came up quickly, but Christine smiled reassuringly. "I told her most everything…I just left out some key parts. I didn't know how much you wanted said on the subject."
Erik closed his eyes as he listened to Christine's voice. His stomach was turning…it had been bothering him all night. Nerves, he thought, but it was such a sharp pain. Erik took several breaths to collect his mind. There were so many conflicting thoughts…
"Elisabeth wants to see me without the mask, Christine. I told her that there was no point, but she is adamant about it. She knows…my story, my past; she overheard my conversation with Anita. She knows I am disfigured, and yet she still wants to see my true face! And there's more…she wants to join the Opera Populaire as a chorus girl; and I am very confident that she will get it. Elisabeth will then hear the rumors…the whispers. She is a smart girl, Christine; I have no doubt she will be able to put the pieces of the puzzle together. She will learn that I was the Phantom of the Opera. My deeds still circle in the underbreaths of the dancers and singers. What do I do? Elisabeth knows me only as her brother; she knows nothing of the evil things I have done…"
Erik rose from the piano and started pacing the room. "The same questions will emerge in our own children as well! Why can't Papa go with us to Paris? Why does Papa wear a mask? Christine, I can't bear it, I just can't."
He stood still in the middle of the room, a hand held protectively over his head. The silence in the room was deafening. Erik finally chanced a glance at Christine.
"Erik, you can't just confront your past. You have to move on! You have to accept it…it has made you the person you are today! My love, you are not the only one with past regrets…I became engaged to Raoul, for God's sake! I broke your heart! I took your mask off…in front of all the people in the theater during Don Juan. I wish I could take it back, all of it back, but I can't. I have to be honest with myself. And you have to be honest, as well. You are not the same person anymore…you are a better man because of your past."
Christine rose from her seat and came toward Erik. She moved his hands and held them over his own heart. "This is all that matters…you are the Phantom no more! You are a husband…a brother…a friend…and soon to be father." She moved his hands again to place them on her stomach. "I have no doubts, love, and neither should you. If you want to tell Elisabeth about your past, then you should. Let her hear it from you. As for our children…I hope that you will not wear your mask around them. You will be their Papa; and they will love you unconditionally. As I do…"
Erik pulled Christine close for a warm embrace. "I don't know what I would do without you, Christine. What if things had been different? What if I had never revealed myself to you as a man and not an Angel…What if you never returned to me that night, the night of my failed attempted at seduction? What if you had left me forever, never to look back…I would still be half a man, living as a ghost…or I would have died, alone and empty."
Christine glanced at him, capturing his eyes with her own firmly. "There is no 'what ifs'. Fate led us, love; we simply chose the right path. I know this: I could never be happy without you…you make my heart, soul, and song take flight."
Christine kissed him softly. "I worry about you, Erik…it's not like you to be so distressed. I am here for you, Angel…always remember that. As long as we have each other, then all else will fall into place. Have faith."
The faint rays of dawn filled the house with a warm glow. Christine and Erik climbed the staircase back to their room. Christine settled back into bed to catch a few more hours sleep, expecting her husband to do the same. Unbeknownst to her, Erik lay awake, wondering if he truly deserved the woman lying beside him.
The ride back to Paris was very enjoyable; the air was bright and warm around them as the season began to change from summer to fall. There were small dark clouds in the distance, but they hardly seemed to damper the mood in the carriage. La Rose et la Nuit would be performed that night. Erik sat straight, betraying none of his nervousness but giving off a strong sense of excitement. Christine had won the argument about shopping, and Elisabeth was thrilled with the prospect of buying a new dress. As the coach pulled to a stop outside the Opera Populaire, Erik turned to Christine.
"Now, I want you to promise me that you will stay on this street…there are plenty of shops for you to explore. Take this as well."
He handed her a rather battered looking pocket watch. "I don't have anything else…but it keeps time well enough," Erik said apologetically. "At one o'clock meet me in the stairwell of the Opera House. Please be careful, love."
"Oh Erik, stop worrying so! What could happen?" Christine smiled innocently.
"A lot could happen…you should know that better than anyone. The unexpected has a way of following you around, Christine. You have an attraction for it."
Christine sighed. "Just go! Stop being so protective…it's just shopping."
Erik looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he held his tongue. "Have a good time ladies; just keep an eye on the time."
Erik and Brian exited the carriage, leaving Elisabeth and Christine behind. Erik went to the driver and paid him what was owed, along with a little extra for wherever the girls wanted to go. He sighed a bit before grasping Brian's hand firmly. He had a bad feeling about this…
In the carriage, Elisabeth glanced at Christine nervously.
"Now what? Where do we start?"
Christine thought for a moment. "Well, I know the cutest little shop down the street; let's have the carriage drive us there, then we can walk the rest of the way."
The carriage pulled to a stop in front of a likely looking store; the girls immediately went inside.
"Can I help you?" A petite woman with violently red hair addressed them. She appeared to be an older lady; and Christine noticed that she was wearing heavy makeup. "I am Sophia, and I would be honored to serve you."
Christine nodded intently at the lady. "My sister-in-law needs a suitable gown for a gala. Do you think you can accommodate?"
Sophia scoffed slightly under her breath. "Madam, my family has made dresses for generations; I am quite sure that you will find that the style and handiwork of our dresses are second to none. Anything purchased here is guaranteed to make a simple girl transform into a shimmering goddess!" Sophia put her hand to her head in emphasize. Christine could hardly contain the giggles she was suppressing.
"Right, then. I was thinking something pale, to highlight her dark hair…or maybe something in the blue or green family to make her eyes stand out…what do you think, Elisabeth?" Christine turned to question her sister-in-law, but she was fingering fabrics on a rack. She glanced up.
"I'm sorry, did you say something? I just have never been around such extravagant clothing before…and I have no idea what to consider." Sophia sighed impatiently.
"That is what I am here for! Come, child, for I will tell you what to wear. Madam, would you like to sit down? I myself have birthed three children, and I know your discomforts well…"
"Thank you, Madam Sophia," Christine said gratefully. She sat in a chair near the front of the store as Elisabeth was taken to the back to try on clothes. Elisabeth came out a moment later.
"What about this, Christine?" The gown was red in color, and it picked up the red in her cheeks nicely. The gown was high cut with a lace choker holding the front of the dress in place. It seemed almost a tad too big; it was shapeless: offering no reveals of the curves that distinguish a woman's body from that of a man's. Christine just shook her head
"I'm sure we can do better."
Sophia stood behind Elisabeth, tutting. She finally agreed with Christine.
"No, no, no! This is all wrong…it is much too…modest! You are a young girl…not a sixty year old grandmother….we must try harder."
Sophia pushed Elisabeth back to the back once more. Christine propped her head on her hand. She heard Elisabeth's voice from the back of the room.
"I am not going out like this! I can't believe people wear this…"
"GO!" Sophia shoved Elisabeth in front of Christine. Her mouth dropped in surprise. Elisabeth was now dressed in a black dress; it was low cut with a high split going up the side. The arms were bare, and the skirt showed more leg than it covered up. Christine was speechless; she could hardly recognize the girl in front of her. When she found her voice, she stuttered a response.
"What is this! Is it half a dress? It looks to be something more proper for the Moulin Rouge! We are going to an opera, Madam Sophia. Oh my goodness, can you imagine if Erik saw you in that, my dear? He would strangle me…"
Elisabeth blushed. "I know! I feel silly…I don't have enough arms to cover all my skin!"
Sophia just sighed. "You are a tricky customer; but I promise that we will find the perfect dress for you…" Once again, they disappeared to the back. Christine raised a hand to her aching head. This was going to be a long day…
"Christine?"
She glanced up at her name to see Raoul peeking his head into the dress shop.
"Raoul! What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the Opera House?"
Raoul shook his head. "Your husband's exact words were: 'If you value your life you will stay out of my way on this day'. For once, I thought I should follow his instructions…what are you doing here? I thought you told me that you made your dress for the gala yourself."
Christine blushed. "I did, but Elisabeth had nothing to wear. I thought we would try this place first…Raoul, why don't you come in and join me?"
Raoul still stood on the street. "I have never entered a…woman's store before."
Christine laughed, a lovely sound in the stuffy shop. "Oh come now Raoul. It's no different than any other shop…"
Reluctantly, Raoul came into the shop. He sat in the chair beside Christine. They had a comfortable conversation; the best that they had had in a while. Christine looked up as Elisabeth called to her.
"Oh Christine! I think we have found it!"
Elisabeth entered with a huge smile on her face. She wore an elegant silver gown; the neckline was low, but revealed very little of the girl's bosom. The gown fit snuggly across Elisabeth's middle in a corset style; it then ballooned out to form a full circle skirt. Embroidered into the dress were sparkling silver ribbons. Christine heard a gasp, and was surprise that it had not come from herself. Raoul had dropped his jaw at Elisabeth's entrance. She looked a vision in the gown; it brought out all her lovely features. Raoul couldn't take his eyes off of her. Elisabeth glanced at Raoul in surprise.
"Vicomte! I did not expect you out here…how do you do?" The formality struck Raoul rather hard. Apparently, the girl held grudges. Raoul decided to play up his charm.
"I was in the neighborhood and saw Christine from the window…I must say, Elisabeth, you look absolutely amazing in that dress. It suits you, my dear."
Elisabeth blushed, but Christine frowned. "Right then, Elisabeth, why don't you go and get changed? Sophia, you were absolutely correct in your choice; we'll take it!"
Elisabeth turned to change. Christine leaned in to whisper to Raoul.
"What are you doing? You shouldn't play with her, Raoul…she has been through enough."
Raoul smirked. "I'll say…she has Erik as a brother!"
Christine just shook her head. "One day, you will know the depths of your ignorance towards my husband, and you will be sorry for all the little comments that you make on a regular basis…and you will want my forgiveness. Know that you will have it, Raoul."
Elisabeth came back in her regular clothes. Christine glanced over her. "My dear, ask Sophia to wrap up the essentials with your gown: shoes, stockings, chemise, corset…"
Christine turned to Raoul once they were alone again. "Elisabeth had a horrible childhood, Raoul…she was forced to run a household with an infant at the age of ten! Please, do not play with her as you would some toy…I know you mean well, but keep your comments civil and not so…forward."
"But what if my comments are genuine? I won't lie and say that I don't feel something for this girl…and I hardly know her! It's strange, but I want to get to know her better. I promise you, Christine, I will not harm her." Raoul looked Christine straight in the eyes, and she saw the truth there. She nodded her understanding. Raoul drifted away from Christine slightly, peering into the many jewelry displays offered in the shop.
Christine looped her arm around Elisabeth's as she returned. "How would you like to catch a bite to eat? We have time…" Christine led Elisabeth out of the store. Raoul came up behind them, straightening his already perfectly pressed jacket.
"That would be lovely! Where to?" Elisabeth's cheeks were flushed, and her hands were occupied with her packages. They were dreadfully heavy; she was therefore happy and relieved when Raoul took her burdens from her. Raoul grinned at them through the mound of packages.
"I know the perfect café. If you ladies will accompany me, I will treat you to the best lunch you've had in ages!"
Elisabeth did not know what to think of the young Vicomte sitting beside her. He was charming, or at least he thought he was. He was handsome, but it appeared that he cared a bit too much for his looks. And he definitely enjoyed being a Vicomte; the air of nobility was present around him at all times. But what was the most puzzling is that she found his company…tolerable. Ok, maybe not just tolerable. She liked how he spoke to her as an equal and not just a woman; she liked the look in his hazel eyes when he laughed. Elisabeth did not like the attraction that she was feeling for this man; he was her brother's sworn rival. If anything, Elisabeth was loyal to Erik only.
Elisabeth was sitting across from the Vicomte at the small café he had indicated earlier. They were eating outside; and they were having a pleasant time. Christine laughed at a joke the Vicomte told, then excused herself to the powder room, leaving the Vicomte and Elisabeth alone. Elisabeth coughed a bit and lowered her eyes from his face. She took a sip of tea.
"Vicomte, how long have you been a patron at the Opera House?"
Raoul smiled. "Elisabeth, please. Call me by my given name. It is so much less formal than hearing 'Vicomte' all the time. I want us to be friends…so let us just be informal."
"All right then, de Chagny. Or is that too informal? Care to answer my question now?" Elisabeth put direct emphasizes on his last name, and Raoul laughed. Elisabeth felt rewarded, and she batted her eyes at him. Was she flirting? Hell, no, she thought decisively. I'm just trying to get on his nerves.
"You are a saucy one, aren't you? Well, let's see: I have been a patron of the arts since I first came into my inheritance at the age of sixteen; I have been a patron of the Opera Populaire for almost two years now."
"Do you like it? I mean, seeing the operas, living in Paris, that sort of thing."
Raoul leaned in a bit at the table. "It has its advantages and disadvantages, I suppose. As any place does, I'm sure. But I love living in Paris…I have lived in many parts of the world, and I always seem to come back to old Paris. Tell me, Elisabeth, is this your first time to the city?"
"Yes…I have lived on the outskirts of a small village my whole life…when my mother died, I had no where to go…I felt trapped; I couldn't escape my fate. That was before…Erik saved me from a horrible existence." The slight lie rolled off Elisabeth's tongue with perfected ease.
"What do you mean, Elisabeth? What was so horrible about where you lived?"
Elisabeth just bowed her head. "I can't explain. I would care not to remember when the wound is still fresh in my heart…"
"Of course, I understand. Elisabeth, I was under the impression that Erik had no family…and now it seems as if he has developed one over night!"
Raoul felt the mistake in his words at the dead look in Elisabeth's eyes. They had been so full of warmth…even when she spoke of her past. Now they were filled with ice.
"My brother…was not wanted by my mother, Monsieur. If anything, Erik should have hated my brother and I…but he showed us compassion." Elisabeth watched carefully as the Vicomte's eyes filled in recognition. She gasped.
"You have seen behind my brother's mask!" It was no question, but a statement. "My mother…abandoned him; left him for dead. To be honest, I did not know of his existence until the night he showed up in my village. And to be frank, I don't feel comfortable talking about this anymore!"
Elisabeth shut herself off from the Vicomte. She wanted nothing more to do with him. She was therefore surprised when the Vicomte reached up and touched her face.
"I know what you went through must have been hard, Elisabeth…and your brother is indeed a great man for taking you in. I don't mean to make light of your situation; I only wanted to show you that there are others around that you can confide in. I am deeply sorry if what I have said has caused you pain…that was not my intention."
Elisabeth gazed into his eyes, feeling the angry and pain ebb away. "I know you mean well…and you can't possibly know what is a touchy subject for me and what isn't. We hardly know each other, after all. Thank you, Raoul…for talking with me."
Raoul felt his heart leap as she said his name for the first time. He was making progress! A few more well place compliments, a few stabs at conversation, and he could invite her to the gala as his guest. His personal guest. Or date, whichever you like. Unfortunately for him, Christine returned.
"My word! It looks as if it's going to storm!" No sooner had the words left her lips did the heavy rain start to fall. "Now what?"
Raoul leaned closer to the wall of the café. "We wait it out, I suppose. It shouldn't rain long."
A large bolt of lightning streaked the sky, followed by the heavy booming of thunder. Elisabeth jumped, and Raoul put his arm around her slightly.
"Maybe it would be better if we waited inside…" He steered the girls into the crowded café, leaving the covered lunch area just as another bolt marred the sky.
Erik was bent intently over the score for his opera. Reyer was standing at his side.
"It must be a wrong note! The chord progression is completely thrown off by this one note in the bassoon section!"
Erik sighed faintly. "Monsieur, I know that's not the problem; I wrote that in myself. It's supposed to be like that…it adds an air of dissonance to the chord, and that adds a bit of mystery to it; the depth of the chord is important, especially in this piece. Have them play it again."
Reyer obliged and started up the concerto. "From number forty five please, gentleman."
Erik closed his eyes, willing himself to distinguish each individual part. His eyes flew open. "You, clarinet player! What note are you playing in the chord?"
The man answered timidly, "A c sharp, sir."
Erik grinned in triumph. "It is a concert b flat you are meant to play. Is your part wrong, or did you miss a natural sign in the measure?" The clarinet player turned bright red, and marked something on his part. Erik nodded at Reyer. "Play it again."
Reyer started up the orchestra, and this time the chord was perfect; it had just the right amount of depth. Erik glanced from his score to the members of the orchestra.
"I have only a few short comments to make, gentlemen, before you can be excused until the performance begins. There should be more vibrato in the flute solo…it is an important part, and while it is a solo, you really must try to put more feeling into it. When the other instruments accompany, please remember that you are the background, and not the main attraction. Pass off each solo gracefully; the most difficult should be from clarinet to oboe: Remember to try and hold the note in tune as the oboist takes over, Mr. Clarinet Player. Other than that, I am proud to have you as my orchestra…you have all done phenomenal work. I hope that you have enjoyed playing my music, and will want to stick around for the next one…it is much more challenging, I promise you."
The members of the orchestra laughed. The music they were playing now was challenging enough to suit their tastes…still, it was very rare to be in the presence of the composer when performing the works. It was thrilling to know that they were performing exactly as the composer wanted. The orchestra members dutifully packed their things and went to prepare for the gala, leaving Reyer and Erik alone.
"You really are a genius, Sir. I have been conducting since I was twenty years old, and I have yet to hear a piece like this one…with the exception of Don Juan..." Erik visibly tensed, hoping that Reyer hadn't made a connection between the two pieces. "Don Juan I would say was before it's time…while the consequences of that opera were disastrous, the music was bold and rich…if not dark and dangerous. You convey many emotions through your music, Maestro…I only wish you could have heard that Don Juan…" Reyer's voice trailed off as he turned to study his score again. Erik walked away, pondering M. Reyer for the first time…if anyone would recognize him as the Phantom of the Opera, it would be him. Perhaps it's time I have a small talk with him; see how much he knows…time!…Erik whirled around toward Reyer again.
"Monsieur, do you have the time, perchance?"
"It is just now two o'clock, M. Massenet."
Erik felt a deep seated panic begin to rise through his body. He had lost track of time…where was his wife? He went straight to the nursery, where Brian was being kept. Brian was perfectly happy, playing with the other children his age. Erik asked the nanny if Christine or Elisabeth had come by, and the answer was in the negative. After a careful, if not frantic, search of the Opera House, Erik became aware of the horrible weather outside. She could be stuck in the rain! I must find her! Erik ran to the stables and hitched a carriage to one of the horses. He stopped right before leaving the safety of the stable, gazing at the torrential rains that were waiting to embrace him. Erik's stomach turned tightly. Erik smiled sarcastically. If I wasn't sick before, I will be after this. He drove out into the rain, instantly becoming soaked. Erik pulled his hood securely over his head. Christine had promised him that she would stay on this street…Erik began his search, knowing that the odds were against him if she had managed to take shelter. He circled the road; in about a half an hour he had made his first complete rotation of the street. The rain had not let up at all, and he was starting to feel a chill creep into his bones. Finally, he found some luck: Erik spotted a curly head from a café window furthest from the Opera House (figures that's where they would be). He pulled the carriage up to the café, and climbed out. Erik walked into crowded shop; silence greeted him as conversations were dropped in favor of staring at the strange man in sopping wet clothing. Christine spotted him at once.
"Erik! What are you doing here!" She ran forward, pushing random people out of the way. She hugged her husband tightly, then backed away.
"Gaa, you're soaking! What have you been doing?"
Erik sighed exasperatedly. "I've been looking for you! I figured you didn't want to walk in the rain…and it shows no signs of stopping. Why don't you gather Elisabeth and we can go?" Erik was started to feel the self consciousness rise as people around him started to whisper about him. He glanced around observantly. Erik was the only one in black, and he still wore his hood over his face. He was getting many dirty looks.
"'Scuse me, Sir," a fat, balding barkeep said from behind the counter. "We have a policy about hats and hoods in the café. You'll have to take it off."
Erik stiffened. "I'll go outside, then. Sorry for the trouble." Erik found himself outside again in the rain, quite glad to be out of the café. Christine was right behind him.
"Come, I've got everyone!" Erik held the carriage door open as Christine darted out. Elisabeth followed. Erik was about to shut the door when another voice was heard.
"Hey, wait! I'm the one with all the packages!" Raoul darted out from inside the café. Erik raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Hello, Erik. Nice day, isn't it?" Erik rolled his eyes and slammed the door in response, not waiting for the Vicomte to remove his limbs from being in the way. If Erik crushed the Vicomte's leg, it would be such a pity, wouldn't it? Erik smirked. One could only hope. He drove them straight to the Opera House. Once loaded into the stable and out of the rain, Erik began to shiver uncontrollably. I have to have power over this! He stopped after a bit, but knew from experience that if he didn't get warm soon, he would be fussing with a cold. Perhaps it was already in the cards, he thought wearily. Erik sat in the driver's chair a moment longer, trying to compose himself. He heard the carriage door open as Raoul stepped out. He helped the ladies out of the carriage himself; for that, Erik felt the tiniest sensation of gratitude. Finally feeling a bit more stable, Erik climbed down from the carriage. Christine was at his side in an instant.
"Erik, we have to get you out of those wet clothes; you'll catch pneumonia! Raoul, will you show Elisabeth to Madam Giry's room?" Raoul nodded. Christine addressed Elisabeth. "You can get ready there, my dear. I will come to you as soon as I can."
The two pairs split off. Erik stopped just before entering the Opera House.
"I think I have water in my boots," he said. Erik pulled them off, and a large puddle of water formed at his feet. Christine gasped.
"How long where you in the rain, Erik?" Erik shook his head.
"It's not important…let's just get back to the room."
They swiftly moved through the corridors. After locking the door behind them, Christine turned to Erik, who was already peeling off his clothes. She came forward and started unbuttoning his jacket.
"Your skin is so cold!" Erik looked at her and rolled his eyes.
"Thanks. I wasn't aware that I was freezing cold…or that it was raining outside…or that you have brown hair"
Christine rolled her eyes back at him. "Any more sarcastic comments, love?"
"I think I'm good for now…" As soon as the wet clothes were off, Erik started to shake once more. Christine looked around for a towel of some kind; she finally settled for pulling the blanket off the bed. She wrapped it around her husband.
"That's better," Erik murmured as Christine rubbed his arms through the blanket. She paused as he held her close to his body.
"Thank you for finding me," Christine whispered, pulling away slightly. Erik looked into her chocolate eyes before capturing her mouth with his own. After the innocent kiss, Erik sang, softly:
Looking in your eyes
Seeing all I need
Everything you are is everything to me
These are the moments
I'll remember all my life
I found all I've waited for
And I could not ask for more
Erik held Christine close, feeling her warmth through the thin blanket. His wet hair dripped in his eyes, and Christine tenderly moved it back from his face. Erik started to move her slightly to him, dancing with her as he sang.
I could not ask for more than this time together
I could not ask for more than this time with you
Every prayer has been answered
Every dream I had's come true
And right here in this moment is right where I'm meant to be
Here with you here with me
I could not ask for more than the love you give me
Cause it's all I've waited for
And I could not ask for more
They stood, dancing still in the middle of the room, long after the music had died from Erik's lips.
Elisabeth reached Madam Giry's room. She knocked, but no one answered. Raoul walked up.
"It's all right…the lights are out. No one's there. Madam Giry must be on the stage."
Raoul pushed open the door and turned on the lights. He set Elisabeth's packages down on the bed. Raoul smiled.
"My dear, I believe my work here is done. I will see you at tonight's gala." Raoul turned to leave when he felt a small pressure on his arm.
"Thank you, Raoul…for everything. I am afraid I have acted rather childish around you. I just have to get used to Paris; I have to get used to everything. I am glad we met today…an odd coincidence has worked in our favor." Raoul inclined his head, and left without a word.
Elisabeth breathed a sigh in his absence. She felt her head clear instantly. The chiming of the clock reminded her that she had to get dressed. Elisabeth started to sort through her packages. She opened the gown first, and felt something fall to the floor. Elisabeth frowned and reached to pick it up. It was a necklace! She looked at suspiciously, not remembering purchasing such an exquisite piece of jewelry. The chain was a simply silver chain, but the charm was a brilliant emerald. It shone beautifully and reflected the light in all directions. Elisabeth held the necklace in her hand as she noticed a note fluttering to the ground.
Silver is your color, but green is becoming. Welcome to Paris.
It was signed simply: de Chagny. Elisabeth felt the grin widened across her face. He really was a foolish boy, after all.
To Mrs. Butler: I was unaware of the 'Browns', but I assure you that the song in Ch. 8 belongs to my brother…it is where I got the song in the first place. Originally it was a poem of my brother's that I sorta changed into Erik's lullaby. I am sorry if I offended you, but I know nothing about an existing song like the one I used…thanks for the info. Do you remember the song name? I looked up the Browns on the Internet and came up with the Cleveland Browns, but I didn't really know what to search under…it is definitely a bizarre situation. If I use someone else's lyrics, I always cite my source-I DO NOT want to plagiarize…that is the worst kind of stealing for a writer. I even cited that the song wasn't mine in the first place, and I know my bro wouldn't have cared…