5
Reviews will be done another time, probably next chapter-sorry people, but this is gonna take a while to type….
Yet another sleepless night. Just one of many, thought Erik to himself.
He rolled off the bed and then stood up, looking around in dismay. The place was in complete disarray. Music manuscripts littered the organ and the floor surrounding it, clothes were strewn across the chest next to the bed. Erik looked on ashamedly, feeling like a pig in a sty. He was just glad that he was alone in the lair, so that nobody could see what Ch…. Chris…. he could not bring himself to repeat her name. Okay. He would compromise. Nobody could see what that…. that girl had reduced him to. He was alone-nobody could hurt him. He was alone….
Or was he?
She watched from afar. The lair, once relatively organised, now was the most unorganised place ever-it sort of reminded her of the managers' office. Men. They all needed a woman in their lives to keep it in some sort of order, she thought with a small smile.
Then she realised with a pang of guilt that it was she who had denied him of that.
She watched him walk over to the organ and seat himself down to play. He sang as he played, and Christine let herself embrace the music. She even found herself joining in-
Child of the wilderness,
Born into emptiness,
Learn to be lonely,
Learn to find your way in darkness.
Who will be there for you?
Come forward and care for you?
Learn to be lonely,
Learn to be your one companion.
Never dreamed out in the world,
There are arms to hold you,
You've always known,
Your heart was on its own.
So laugh in your loneliness,
Child of the wilderness,
Learn to be lonely,
Learn how to love,
Life that is lived alone.
Learn to be lonely,
Life can be lived,
Life can be learned alone.
Christine had no idea how she knew the words to the song. The words seemed to form on her lips. The music embraced her, caressed her, and held her. She knew what the song meant. She peered around the curtain, and saw her angel, trying to find the source of the voice which had been singing along with him. He looked wild and unkempt. She couldn't stifle a sob at what he had become.
He ran over to where she hid, and ripped back the curtain, a manic, triumphant grin on his face. It soon turned to horror when he saw who had produced the soft notes that had embraced him…. caressed him…. held him…. his face paled, and his jaw dropped.
"Shit," he hissed, "SHIT! WHAT IN GOD'S NAME ARE YOU DOING HERE?"
He turned from her and stomped off, tears trickling down his cheeks. He could not allow her the satisfaction of seeing him cry-not again.
The tears slid down her cheeks, dripping down onto the peach silk she still wore.
"Angel, I…." she began.
"Erik," he snapped, "the Angel of Music no longer resides in this domain. Nor phantoms, for that matter. Or any ghosts. Just Erik…." his voice tailed away.
"Erik. Is that your name?" she whispered.
He gave a short, sharp nod in answer.
"Erik," she sighed. The name sounded nice. It rolled off her tongue easily.
"Erik…. oh, Erik…. Er…."
He cut in like a knife, coldly.
"If you wish to address me, kindly refrain from repeating my name like some infernal parrot. Merely saying it once will be quite sufficient," he whipped around and fixed his eyes on her, glaring. She cowered.
"What do you want from me?" he hissed, "You want more? Well, let me tell you something," he grabbed her roughly by the chin and forced her to look at him. "There's nothing left. You've had it all. I gave you my music, my love, and most precious, and most stupidly, my trust. And you betrayed that trust, Christine. Now there's nothing left. Nothing more for you to take. I'm a broken man."
And with that, he fell back and started to weep, choking sobs wracking his entire body.
"Go back to your fop," he sobbed, "he can provide far more that I ever could."
She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her angel lay on the floor, which was littered with parchment. What had she reduced him to?
She bent down and helped him up, supporting him.
"Erik," she said softly, "I've left Raoul."