well, an update! y'all happy? well, let me know and review! oh, and when you do, tell me what you think of the song. its a poem i wrote. i use alot of my poems in my poto phanphics and would like to know if you guys like them. kay?
disclaimer: you know the drill, i own nada, except my awsome picture of erik that is soooo precious to me!
Chapter Five
Christine laid on her small bed, gazing out her window. The moon was shining brightly tonight, casting silvery shadows across her room. When they were little, Christine and Will tried to catch the moonlight, to see what it would feel like. But that was long ago, when they still slept in the same room. When Christine's first monthly course came, Will was moved to a separate room the next day and the two no longer had any nighttime adventures.
Christine still believed her Aunt and Uncle use her courses as a way for them to actually sleep at night. Which wasn't happening tonight.
Try as she might, she couldn't get Angel out of her head. The things she was feeling right now should have been disgust and repulsion at the rude and discourteous way he treated her. He had pinned her on an alley wall for God's sake!
But her treacherous heart and mind thought otherwise. In her heart, she felt feelings she could only owe up to her ridiculous romantic daydreams and a feeling that could only allot to lust. Her mind was fascinated and intrigued with this dark, suave Angel.
I wonder if he is a fallen angel! Christine giggled at that thought and felt a blush spread across her cheeks. Or had it been there the whole time? It seemed she blushed every time she thought about Angel, which was constantly. Well, at least as constantly as the rest of the day could be.
When she had arrived home after showing Angel the tavern, she found Aunt Margaret distraught with worry, along with Uncle James and Will. Apparently she had dragged the tow of them out of their work to inform them about Angel, or the scallywag in a mask as Aunt Margaret had called him. Oh there had been lectures on the dangers of strange masked men and reprimands for not minding her aunt. Christine had only half listened, her mind wandering off to think of Angel, his perfect mouth and body, the way his hands felt on her…
Plink!
What on earth? Christine was stirred from her thoughts by a sharp tap on her window. A few seconds later, another tap, and Christine saw that its source was a rock flung at her window. She quickly climbed out of bed to inspect, and found Angel standing on the ground beneath her window.
She opened it just as Angel launched another stone, sailing right past her shoulder and landing with a hard thud against her bedroom wall.
"I'm bloody well up now so you can stop that," she said harsh whisper audible enough for him to here her and soft enough so that her family wouldn't. Hopefully.
He tutted her sardonically and answered in a normal pitched voice, "Such language from a young lady! Not very nice on your part love."
"Maenad, remember? And keep your bloody voice down!"
"Why," he countered, loving every moment of this. He had thought about nothing except her and just how wonderful it was to infuriate her.
"You'll wake the whole house up, that why!" Angel was starting to irk her now. How could she have ever fancied him, boorish ape that he was!
"So, let them hear." Erik knew he was risking his neck accosting her like this, but he was too interested to see how this would end.
"You absolute boor! Get out of here!"
"No, I must speak with you" he said slightly louder this time.
"Please, leave."
"No. I'm going nowhere until you come down here."
Christine's eyes widened. "You must be jesting. Do you really think I'm going to come down to you at this hour?"
"Fine, then I'll come to you." He began to climb the ivy that crawled up the side of the house to her second story bedroom window.
"No, you get back down! If they find you here--" Christine trailed off, allowing Angel to fill in the rest in his mind. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to work as he merely paused in his ascension to smile wickedly at her. Christine sighed and resigned herself to her fate. "Fine, I'm coming down."
Erik smiled in triumph and jumped back to the ground. He saw Christine disappear from the window and was about ready to climb back up and drag her out when she reappeared with a shawl tightly wrapped around her.
Christine gingerly climbed out of the window, balancing precariously on the sill. She carefully made her way over to the ivy, but her hand missed. Vertigo swept over Christine, causing her to lose her balance and send her tumbling down.
Erik saw her slip easily caught her in his arms. Although Erik could tell she was frightened, she didn't scream. Odd, but he was rather proud of her for that. Her breathing was heavy and she clung to his shoulders, burying her head against his chest. Erik reveled in the feel of Christine in his arms. He wondered what it would feel like to hold her in a bed, no clothes between them…
Christine was just getting comfortable in Angel's arms when he unceremoniously dropped her to the ground. It was only due to her excellent balance and agility she gained from dancing that she did not fall flat on her behind. Rather, she swayed a moment before regaining her balance. She felt Angel's eyes on her, glowing amber in the night. Odd, his eyes had been green during the day. Suddenly aware of how thin her nightgown was, she rewrapped her thick shawl around her upper body, shielding herself from his gaze.
Erik coughed and said in a tighter voice than he would have liked, "Well, can't stand here all night, come my lovely maenad." He took her hand and led her through the abandoned streets of Port Royal.
The walked in silence, both simply taking joy in the warm sea breeze and lovely night. Christine felt she could pretend that she was walking with her lover, off to a secluded cove to whispers sweet nothings and exchange sweet kisses. Of course, that wasn't going to be happening anytime soon.
They came to an unpatrolled dock, looking out on the calm, crystalline sea, they sat on the edge, legs dangling over the edge. Erik turned to Christine but at the sight of her beauty, heightened by the moonlight, all words he had were caught in his throat. Luckily for him, Christine spoke first.
"Angel, why have you brought me here?"
Erik stared back at her, thrown off by her question. All day long he had been thinking of only her, her beauty, fierceness, and wildness that drove him crazy with desire, curiosity and the stirrings of something his pride would allow him to allot to lust.
His heart faintly protested.
But how could he tell her this? That the Phantom of the Caribbean was made completely undone by a mere girl not even fully developed yet. That he needed her, with him, to be his. He desperately and blindingly needed her to be his. She was too rare a jewel to pass up.
But Erik knew for all her wildness, Christine was still a rather proper British girl, modest and virginal. Odds on she would never accept a man's embrace until her wedding night. The only way a man would taste her before hand would be rape, something Erik never did or would do. Murderer, pirate and complete scallywag that he was, Erik would never violate a woman in such a manner.
"Angel?"
Christine's sweet voice floated back to his ears, so lovely, so musical.
Musical?
Christine watched Angel's masked face that had been deep in thought crack into a devilish grin. Christine felt a flutter in her stomach that she had always felt when in the presence of a dashing and handsome man. it was nothing new to her. What was new was the heat coming from someplace lower, the sheer ache and slight twitch that was completely foreign to her. She had no idea what it was, but it seemed it was Angel who elicited it.
"I want you to sing," he finally said, voice cocky and demanding.
"What?"
He smiled that irritating smile again. "I don't believe there is anything wrong with you hearing. Now sing or I don't believe you'll be going home before sunrise."
Christine mulled over his words for a moment. She didn't want to give into Angel more than she had already, but she also didn't want to be discovered missing and found with a strange man.
After all, a stained reputation was worse than bruised pride.
Christine searched her mind for a song to sing, and when she found one, straightened up and softly sang.
Blow soft moonlight,
Shine darling wind.
Sing me a song of home.
So lonesome here,
In the rolling sea
Blow soft moonlight
Sing darling wind.
Oh Dolphin too,
Dance for me
Too many things left unsaid.
So long the nights
Too many memories
Blow soft moonlight
Shine darling wind
When time came to part
Many tears she did shed.
But all the same
We parted that morn
And far off is the day
We are as one again.
Blow soft moonlight,
Shine darling wind.
Sing me a song of home.
"That's all there is to it," Christine said to break the silence that had settled as she sang. "Piangi taught it to me. It's a sailor's song he wrote when he was on his first voyage as a sailor. It's a lovely song don't you think?" She was rambling, as she often did when she was nervous.
After another moment of silence, Angel simply said, "What was lovely was your voice."
Christine blushed and widened her eyes, becoming acutely self-conscious. He had meant it, that she knew. For all his swagger and air of danger, Christine knew he wouldn't hurt her. She didn't know how she knew, just that she did and that was enough.
Erik noticed the faint pink fingers of Dawn inching over the horizon. Regretfully, he knew he must take Christine back home, though he would much prefer to keep her with him. Standing, he took the lovely girl's lily white hand to help her up. Odd, but yet while her hands were soft, there were slight calluses where one might grip a sword. Judging by the feel of them, they were anything but new.
Looking questioningly at her, she smiled and answered, "My uncle is a blacksmith who specializes in swords. My cousin and I learned swordplay with the swords he makes."
Smiling, Christine rose to her feet, shirking his hand. Erik walked behind her all the way back to her home, chewing over this new piece of information, and how it made all the harder a fish to reel in.