a/n: well, I hate being so mean about my updates so this, i promise, will be updated a minimum of two times this week!
tay-kun: it's okay! i understand.
Lize Radcliffe: I promise, you will be getting more!
I wake up and, trying to move my legs, start to moan. I find it painful to move anything from my waist down.
Then there's a hand on my shoulder, "Stop hurting yourself. It's alright, I'm here."
I open my eyes to see Raoul.
I smile at him and he holds a closed hand up, "Take these, it'll ease the pain."
I nod and he holds the hand to my mouth. I open my mouth in obedience and three pills slip in. He holds a glass of water to my lips and I swallow the three miniscule pills in a single sip. Taking another sip to help wash them down faster he pulls the cup from my lips and sets it down, then replaces his hand on my forehead and starts to run his fingers gently through my hair.
"Why does it hurt?" I ask, dazed still.
"Last night," he comments, "I knew I was going to hurt you. I didn't know it was going to be that bad. You were bleeding. I changed the sheets and asked Madame Giry for pain killers, claiming it was foryour wrists alone."
I look away, "Thank you."
"There's more if you need it," he touches my face, "Just let me know."
I nod, refusing eye contact.
He turns his face towards his and there are tears in his eyes, "I'm so sorry."
"I told you not to worry," I grasp him and hold him tight to me.
"You're in pain," he comments.
"I've had worse," I shrug.
"Not because of me," he tries.
"Actually, it was you. That letter… I felt more pain after you said goodbye and I read that letter than I ever have in my entire life. Before and since that point," I argue.
He lowers his head, "So it was my fault."
"What?" I force him to look at me.
"Your wrists," he blandly remarks.
"Yes," won't lie, but he already knew this.
"I don't like admitting that that was my fault, though I know it was," I see.
"Hush," I try to calm him, "You were afraid. I was too, but I never thought you would say such a thing."
"That's just it, I wouldn't say something like what I did, not by nature," he buries his face in his hands.
"And I'm sure you'll never say it again," I coo.
"I promise," he turns to me and looks me in the eyes, "Oh, God, I promise! Please forgive me, I promise."
"I forgive you, I do, don't you worry," and then my warning signals go off. Someone is coming.
"What is –" I cut Raoul off mid sentence.
"Someone's coming," I point toward the lake.
I watch him shoot up and draw his sword. I smile at his back as he stands defensively at the door, then I watch as he heaves a sigh.
"It's Madame Giry," he comments, turning to me.
"Show her in," I demand and he goes to do so.
I watch as she walks in. She sits at the chair by my bed and I try to move my legs to sit and cry out in pain.
"Erik?" she pushes me back onto the bed.
"I'm fine, just my wrists," I comment quickly.
"But you moved your legs," she's far too smart for us to hide this from in my presence.
"But it was my wrists," I comment far too harshly.
"Erik, what are you hiding? I only mean to be helpful here," she tries.
"Then you would be helpful by ceasing this questioning," I snap.
She sighs, but gives in.
Then Raoul decides that he should speak, "It's my fault."
The fool!
"Raoul?" Madame Giry questions.
"I love him, Madame, just know that," you fool of a child!
Something clicks. She knows.
"I'm sure you must," she comments and the discussion drops dead.
She digs into the pocket of her jacket and pulls out a note, "A letter from the managers to their patron."
Raoul takes the note and opens it. Then he shows it to me:
Vicomte,
We would like to inform you that we are having a party tonight to celebrate the time without the Phantom around. We would truly enjoy if you could come. It will start at six. It is a normal dinner party, no masks, no performers. Please, if you could come it is most appreciated.
Sincerely,
M. Andre
M. Firmin
The fools! The complete fools! How dare they?
"Erik?" he questions, "I'm not going."
"You must!" I protest, "They shall be suspicious of your absence."
"Please, Madame Giry, will you tell them that I am ill, and can not attend?" he seems so innocent.
"Of course I can, but I advise against it. Raoul, Erik is correct, you will arouse suspicion," she tries.
"Yes, but I will not leave Erik here alone, unguarded," he smiles weakly at me.
I manage to smile back as Madame Giry responds; "I have nothing tonight. Meg and I can stay down here."
"Meg?" Raoul is startled.
"Yes, Meg knows about Erik too. Under different circumstances the two would have grown up siblings."
He shows his shock but remains silent, and then gives in, "Alright, I'll go. What time is it now?"
"About three," she answers, "You'll need to be there in about two and a half hours. Being early will impress them."
"Thank you, Madame Giry," he bows his head in gratitude.
"It is nothing. I shall go wait for Meg now and return in an hour and a half, leaving you an hour to get ready and go, and see us come here."
"Thank you," I turn to her.
"You're welcome, Erik," she whispers and then turns and leaves.
Raoul turns to me; "I still don't like the idea of leaving you."
"I know, I know," I smile, pulling him closer to me, my arm around his waist.
"Erik?" he takes my hand from around his waist.
"What?" I sit up.
"I'll be right back," I laugh as he hurries out of the room, headed toward my bathroom.
I lay back down and silently wait, wishing that I had my music. I wish I could play, and though I know I can, I would probably only hurt my wrists. I don't want to worry Raoul; he has enough on his mind.
He comes back in and sits next to me. I sigh and he looks up.
"Reach under the bed, Raoul, there should be a case, pull it out, please," if I can't play my music, maybe he can.
He does so and places my violin case in my lap. Carefully extracting the instrument from its case I hold it under my chin and start to play, but instantly stop, my wrists burning.
"Erik," he reaches out and takes the instrument before I drop it and sets it down carefully in his lap before taking my wrists, "don't hurt yourself!"
"I'm sorry," I lower my head, my plan working perfectly.
There's a silence and I break it, "Do you know how to play?"
"A little," he answers.
"How much? The notes? Some notes? Short pieces? Long pieces?" I urge.
"I know all the notes, but it's hard for me to put them together," he answers in shame.
"Reach back under the bed, there should be some pieces," some of my earliest and lamest compositions. They have beauty, but simplicity as well.
He does and sets the pieces in front of me. I search and find a two-sheet piece.
"Try this," I place the paper in the open case, making a makeshift stand.
"I don't think I c-" he starts.
I cut him off, "You don't think you can. But you don't know until you try."
He nods and starts to play. The notes come out fine, but they are terribly separated.
"Here," I take his hand, "play the first note."
He does and I guide his hand to the second note, much nicer and much smoother.
"Wow," he whispers.
"Don't stop," I command and his hands move smooth into the next note, and then butcher the fourth.
"No!" I yell, "Like this."
I show his hand how, "Now repeat."
The process goes on for a long time. We are half way through having the song done when I hear someone walk in, and there is Meg Giry, her mother on her heals, standing in the door way.
"Good day, Madame, Mademoiselle," I nod in a slight bow and the two acknowledge this.
Raoul stands, "Nice to see you again."
"Nice to see you both," little Meg answers as Madame Giry makes her way over, placing the instrument away.
"Wait!" I protest.
"I'm already a half hour late, the Vicomte has thirty minutes to get ready," Madame Giry answers and at her words Raoul rushes from the room and goes to get ready.
"Monsieur!" she calls after him.
He rushes back in, "Yes, Madame?"
"Here," she motions to a rather large case on the inside of the door, "I had some of your maids pack some of your clothing up to bring here."
"Thank you," he takes the suitcase and leaves again.
Some minutes of silence pass before he walks back in. Looking stunning in his dark blue suit, I can't help but stare.
He walks over, "How much time is left?"
"About ten minutes, Monsieur," Meg answers.
"Then I'll start up," he looks to me.
He walks over and I take his hand. Madame Giry ushers Meg from the room.
"I won't be gone long, I promise," he squeezes my hand.
"I know, I trust you," I smile, "Just please… try to keep the girls away from you."
"Don't worry, my heart is already taken," he smiles and places a kiss on my lips.
"I love you," I whisper.
"And I love you," he kisses me again and departs.
The Girys walk back in.
Now, I just have to be patient.
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a/n: thank you for reading! I promise the next chapter will be up soon!