Disclaimer: How can you own someone who really existed?

Chapter Three: Dangerous Liaisons

In sleep he sang to me,
in dreams he came . . .
that voice which calls to me
and speaks my name . . .

"I'm sorry gentlemen but I'm herby relinquishing my funding from this moment on. I have come to realize that you have made no progress what so ever; that it is costing me more to keep the winery running then it would be to shut it down. At one point, before I was married, I may have been more frivolous with my money, however it's plain to see I'm wasting my time." The Vicomte said picking up his hat standing so he might leave. He had opened the winery as a side venture in hopes to raise his standings among society. Why, what would be more enticing then a Vicomte, but a Vicomte with his own private winery? However, the plan had failed before it begun, no one in the highest of society was impressed and the merlots were mediocre, at best. Now that he had Christine, his love for the limelight had decreased. He knew the vicious rumors they spread about her past, and he gave up the Gala's and the parties of Paris to love her for eternity.

"Vicomte De Chagny, Vicomte! Please Monsieur; you do not understand how dire the circumstances are here at the winery. If you do not support us, we all will have no job and starve. Think of the children." The old man said pointing outside to the children who were playing outside amongst the rows of grapes.

They were young and beautiful, as far as Raoul could tell, it was though they were cherub angels dancing and giggling while amusing themselves with such trifle things like running around. He thought back to another angel who seemed so innocent. Christine.

Why even she was not technically higher in birth than these children, and he was ready to marry her without a second thought…

Was the old man right? Should he still fund this dying cause? These people had nowhere else to go, and he couldn't bare the thought of the responsibility, knowing that he had cast away these relatively happy people. It was all up to him.

Then it hit him, he asked himself what would Christine do? She would be appalled if he did not give them a second chance.

Sighing, he gave into the old man's plea.

"Alright Monsieur I will be back in a year. ONE year to see the progress reports on this broken down winery, and if they do not meet my standards then I will be forced to renounce my duties and close it down."

(' ) '
-

And do I dream again?
For now I find
the Phantom of the Opera is there -
inside my mind . . .

Erik walked slowly along the dark and worn down path. Beauty like this reminded him why he preferred night to the brash light of day. The dark mysteriousness of it had appealed to him for more reasons just then the horridness of his face and the non-existent crowds of people. The trees seemed more ominous, the stars more interesting then a blue sky. Not that he saw a blue sky on many occasions. Paris was beautiful, but the rain loved Paris too, making it just as rare to see the stars, as it was to see the sun.

He stopped as he reached the property. The lush green grass stretched out in front of him for some time, so far that even from the edge of the grass he could see into Christine's second story window. The drapes were not closed and the bed was close enough to the glass panes he could see her lying upon the bed. He had not planned to go by the house that night; he had not planned to come into extremely close contact with the Vicomte and his soon to be wife, ever.

However, thoughts of Raoul not in the house, and of no one but servants and Christine there, enticed him.

He could see her now, stretched out lazily on her bed, asleep with a small smile on her face. Lowering his head he realized if he could only see that innocent smile once more, even if he couldn't keep his promise of watching over her till the day she die, he would die a happy man in possession of that singular smile.

Slowly he looked up from his feet to find himself in front of her balcony. He pondered the time, and took out the pocket watch he recently bought. It was nearly one in the morning, meaning most likely everyone would be asleep.

Slowly, with his cat-like grace, he climbed the drainpipe to her room. Every muscle from his weak body ached, but not more than the heart ached he was in at the thought of never coming close to her again. It was as he was climbing he decided that it was worth trading the physical pain for emotional bliss.

As he reached her balcony, he found her just the way he suspected too. There she was, the beautiful angel lying with half her face deep in a pillow smiling contently. The covers were around her body and her arm was out of the covers, under her pillow, revealing a sheer nightgown. He moaned outside her window and the thought of her innocent suggestion. Christine somehow had a way of making him think thoughts that any gentlemen at heart would be appalled at. Then again, he wasn't a gentleman, was he? No, he was a loathsome vile creature who, if he were a gentleman, should be ashamed of standing there outside her window. He wasn't though, and he found himself wondering after all this time, if she would be disgusted as well.

Erik knew that Christine was a child still, in so many ways. Naive, imaginative, a dreamer... And of course, that was an attraction in itself, against her will she was seductive, never knowing that her innocents was the most appealing thing to every man she came across. All that loved her bathed in the glow of the light she shone, and no man ever wanted to willingly continue in darkness after her drugging presence. After all, there is a light shines on everyone, and for a short while, she had on him. Now, he was bathed in darkness once more. Only a glimpse of the warmth of her rays remained.

He slowly opened her balcony door and crept into the room, only to slide into the chair beside her bed. Sitting there, he watched her rosy cheeks glow along with the smile and listened to her heavy yet steady breath.

He thought to the last time she had seen him. He himself knew that it was very hard for him to be confused, especially by anyone of inferior intelligence.
Nevertheless, Erik admitted to himself that she had not only confused him but also baffled him. One minute she had told him she had hated him, with eyes cold and hurtful, only to kiss him the next minute.

That kiss, oh dear lord that exquisite kiss. She had not kissed him just once, but twice in those last moments.

That was what perplexed him the most. He had thought over those precious moments time and time again, analyzing them, reliving them, finding joy and sorrow. He remembered that her lips, felt like rose petals, and her soft mouth, tasted of saline, from both his tears and her own. He had concluded that rationally, she had only done it to save her true love, but his heart told him something different.

At first, the kiss had been apprehensive on her behalf; he could sense the tension in her lips, the stiffness of her back, it was still more than he could ever hope for, the feeling of them sent shivers down his spine.

Yes at first, she had been tense, then to everyone's surprise, including he was sure, the Vicomte's, she had softened up. Her mouth opened slightly and deepened the already blessed action. When she did finally pull away, he looked at her in disbelief, believing he'd see pity and disgust in her beautiful blue eyes. Instead, he found wonder, he saw the awe in her eyes, the wonder of her actions her own bout of intrigue and confusion. When they joined again, he felt her desire, her want, and knew that she had surrendered to him finally, when he was so sure he would never know what it was like to be loved by Christine Daaé.

She had truly kissed him, not through force, for he had been quite satisfied with what he had been offered. When they pulled away the second time, gasping for air, he saw her smile softy, as though they both shared a secret that they would keep just between them until they were both dead. She had kissed him full fledge with the passion he knew she possessed deep down in her soul. Her kiss was her song, her voice, everything she loved in one single simple act of fulfillment. Still, he could not tell her what she wanted to know; she would have to figure it out for herself.

If he hadn't sent her away, she would of stayed with him down there for the end of time, and he knew it. He knew that she had finally given him her heart and she was confused as to how it happened.

"Take her, leave me..." He had said to the young man who had watched in the same awe he had felt. Poor little Raoul, Erik thought smugly. He has no clue that she is lost to him.

Now, if only Christine could figure it out. No, she wouldn't, he realized. She wouldn't give a second thought to all those dark desires that possess her deep within. All those desires he awoke with simple touches and caresses with his voice. All his thoughts of her returning to his arms where a fantasy that would never be played out.

"Erik?" She whispered softly.

His heart froze, in the small amount of time he had spent recalling those memories he had looked away. Now he had been caught sitting here by her side. Tensing, he waited for her harsh words of hate, but they never came. Finally, he turned to look at her, only to find she had whispered them in her sleep. He let out a sigh of relief.

Why did she tease him so? He looked at the soft lips curl even more into a smile as he let a tear slip.

"Christine..." He whispered.

"Erik..." She whispered again. He knew her to talk in her sleep many times at the opera and even underneath his underground lair. Therefore, this did not surprise him.

"Erik, where are you?" she said having lost her smile.

"Erik do not go!" She whimpered.

"It is alright my angel, I shall never leave your side." He said brushing a curl out of her face.

"Erik, I miss you..." She said with relief.

You do? He thought. This was news to him.

"I am sorry I never told you goodbye," she said having a sob escape her.

"You did, perhaps, in your own way..." He said hesitating, was she awake?

"No, I was cruel and never explained myself. I loved you and now your dead..." She said.

I AM DEAD? He thought.

His heart exploded in two, one side leaped with joy for she had said the words of love he had longed for. Oh, how he wept now, knowing that she had meant her kiss. Yet another part of him wept knowing that she thought he was gone. Out of her life, forever. How fate was cruel indeed. The one persons love that mattered the most was tainted by thoughts of death.

His death. He truly knew not what to do, but knew that he could not inform her of his existence. She believed she was speaking to an angel, a ghost.

She then let out another whimper. "I shall never forgive myself..." She said.

"Christine, listen to me you, did nothing wrong. Not anything at all. I must go now, but do know this. I love you, I have always loved you, and I always will." slowly he took off the ring that belonged to her.

He had given it to her to keep her by his side, and she had given it back to him in a last dire attempted to stay.

"This is yours, take it and remember me whenever you see it." He said placing the ring by the pillow.

Slowly he walked over to the balcony doors and opened them gently. He looked back to the sleeping figure on the bed behind him.

"Good bye, my angel of music..." She softly whispered.

Erik sighed as he climbed down from her bedroom.

He had always wanted to be dead, and now more than anything he had ever felt, he wanted to be alive.