Own nothing, with the exception of a copy of the Gaston Leroux book.
July. 09/05
Moving about the kitchen with his usual grace of movement Erik set about the task of making them breakfast. Placing the heavy skillet upon the stove he retrieved the bowl of batter from the opposite counter. Ladling some batter into the pan Erik kept one eye on the crèpe while he looked to the small table where Christine was seated only to see she was no longer there. Turning round quickly he found himself face to face with Christine, who immediately claimed his lips with her own. He tensed briefly only to immediately relax and enjoy the kiss.
Gradually he became aware of a smell, he couldn't tell what it could be, only that it was bad, until finally scent connected to memory and he drew back muttering the word "merdre" beneath his breath. He removed the now charred crèpe from the skillet with a sigh. Turning back to Christine, Erik frowned, the corners of his lips down-turned temptingly. Unable to restrain herself she kissed the edges of his mouth before she pulled back and actually frowned herself. Reaching up, she placed her hand on the right side of his face. But instead of feeling flesh, it was the cool porcelain of his mask.
"Erik, why are you wearing your mask, it makes no sense, you have no need of it here, and it is simply you and I." Christine questioned him gently. In response Erik sighed, and looking to the far side of the room over Christine's shoulder, his gaze focused on no point in particular, he replied, "Quite honestly my dear, I suppose I replaced my mask for what may have been two reasons. I suppose, that over the years, I have grown accustomed to doing so, it is my habit to have it on when awake. And I also suppose that I wished to spare you the sight".
Carefully pulling his mask from his face Christine set it aside wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself to him firmly. Slowly she leaned up and began to methodically place tender kisses to the distorted skin. Overlapping each kiss to make sure she covered the entire area, but also taking care not to kiss the exact same spot twice in a row, she found herself slightly surprised by the texture of his skin, that it should be rather like the smooth feel of a burn scar. It was not displeasing.
Resting her brow against the exposed skin of his collarbone (he had forgone the formality of his waistcoat and neck cloth) she sighed. Looking into his eyes, she decisively stated, "Why conceal something with which I enjoy? I love you, all of you. In fact I quite like kissing your face, the way your skin feels, it is incredibly smooth. Not dissimilar to the texture of a burn scar. And the skin there looks perpetually flushed, I wonder, what could I do to make the rest of you match, hmm?" she smiled and nuzzled his neck again.
"Mmmmmm" Erik groaned out. It seemed she was doing fairly well already. Clearing his throat he said thickly "I really should finish preparing breakfast, I cannot allow my bride to starve, and we must discuss our plans". They separated, but not before Christine got in one last little nip to his throat. Finally she went and sat back in her chair and he finished making the crèpes to eat with some crème fresh, and a few wild berries. They sat in silence for several minutes eating their own meals respectively until Christine finally interrupted it saying, "What are we to do?" After a short deliberation Erik thought it best to answer with a question of his own. "What do you mean exactly by that?"
Scrunching her eyes closed briefly in frustration, Christine answered, "What I mean is, how are we to live? What exactly shall we do? You are a wanted man, it is not safe to be in Paris, and how are we to leave, the passage can't have been left unguarded".
Looking at her closely, Erik calmly set down his utensils and stared at her face for a moment. Finally he smiled and broke the silence. "To begin my dear, you really should know that there is more than one path into my domain, in fact there are several. Not least is one that actually leads to La Rue Scribe. Beyond that, I did in fact prepare for the possibility that something of my plans may have failed. In all actuality, before I even truly knew you, I had done such things as making investments, acquiring property; I have both land and residences." seeing her shocked gaze he chuckled, "Did you think that I simply hoarded the money I received from the theatre, and that it was my one source of income? Indeed, no, as I said, I did invest a great deal, and with that, my wealth-my funds have increased. We shall never want for anything. I have an agent, a broker, I was not idle with my time, simply roaming about the opera and causing…mayhem."
Sighing and shaking her head Christine replied, "I should have known, Erik, you are too intelligent by far. All your inventions, your trinkets, your music, your art, everything, you are a genius Erik. I should have known better. But what I would like to know, is" and at this she grinned, nearly smirking "what is how are we to be married, and if you are wanted, how can we live in the city?"
"I suppose I shall answer the latter first" Erik started in, " the answer to that is, that what I own in the city isn't actually a residence, it isn't a home. The residencies I have are outside the city, not too, too far, but a nice distance away, and they are situated on good amounts of land. As to my being wanted, they are looking for a phantom, not an entrepreneur. One I am no longer, the other I remain. I do not intend to give the people a route to deduce my former identity and also my location. Besides, when it is possible Mme. Giry will inform us of an appropriate time to depart. I prepared for any problems I could think of. Antoinette will most likely soon be making an announcement in L'Epoque. It will undoubtedly be in her style, something understated to drive the point in. No doubt she'll simply have them print up three words. Il est mort." Erik grinned wryly.
Taking the empty dishes to the basin for cleaning, he looked over his shoulder and said simply, "Concerning our marriage, I do not understand why it matters to you now" seeing her outraged expression, he easily continued "I had thought that you might be more interested in our wedding, in which I have procured the agreement of an elderly priest to perform the ceremony. I was wondering what your thoughts might be on that…?…"