About: We present to you another phic by Holly and Chelsey. The same notes concerning background and characterizations apply to this phic as they did in our first, Backward Glances. The largest difference between the two is that in this phic, Raoul and Christine are "happily" married, Raoul being on his Northern Expedition at the beginning of the story. This phic is also much darker and, dare I say, sexier than the first. Chelsey took the characters of Erik and Madame Giry; Holly, Christine and Meg. Enjoy! (P.S. We plan on writing a sequel to this baby)
Chapter One
Christine stood on the lawn of the deChangy estate, watching Raoul ride away in his carriage. He would not be back for a little over two years, for he would be on his northern expedition. Strangely, Christine did not feel her heart break as she watched him go, she did not even feel the slightest bit of sorrow. Marriage had not brought the happiness and bliss that she thought it would. It had not made her feel whole or complete. If anything, it had brought her guilt and remorse. Of course, she assumed that was customary if another was constantly on one's mind.
She thought back to their wedding night, Raoul had been so gentle and nervous. She wondered why whenever she had looked at Raoul as he made love to her, she had seen Erik's face. After they had finished, and she lay next to him, his arm around her shoulders, holding her close to him, he had told her he loved her. She had smiled, and kissed him, hoping that he wouldn't notice that, yet again, she had failed to return the sentiment; as much as she had wanted to, the words had never made it to her lips. Christine often had to convince herself that she did love him… But in her heart she knew it wasn't true. Sometimes, the guilt was too much for her, and she found herself wishing she would get ill and pass on; it would make things so much more bearable.
Raoul had desperately wanted children, and they had tried for a baby many times. She knew it broke his heart that she had never gotten pregnant, but secretly, each time that she had failed to conceive, she was relieved.
Christine was torn from her thoughts as she reached the front of the mansion; she pulled open the large door, and made her way to the master bedroom to get ready. She was going to visit Mme. Giry and Meg at the opera house that afternoon; she wanted to look her best. She applied some rouge to her cheeks and painted her lips, then brushed her dark curls until they shown. Christine selected a pale green gown from her wardrobe and dressed hurriedly. Exiting the room, she made her way down the stairs and out to the carriage that was waiting for her.
After a relatively short carriage ride into the city, Christine arrived at the Opera Populaire. She walked up the stairs to the opera house where Mme. Giry and Meg were waiting for her. She hugged them both, smiling genuinely for the first time in a while.
"It's so wonderful to see you both!"
"I trust you are happy with the vicomte, dear?" asked Mme. Giry, smiling at Christine slightly, breaking her usually austere demeanor.
"Yes, I am, we both are very happy," she lied, forcing a tight smile. Meg grasped both of her hands in hers.
"Oh, Christine, you look so beautiful!" her friend exclaimed. Christine's smile turned genuine.
"Thank you, you look fantastic yourself, Meg!"
Erik sat in the library, trying to focus on the novel he was reading, but it proved difficult. For the past months, he'd been doing his best to keep Christine from his thoughts. To his distaste, he'd failed miserably thus far. His mind kept replaying fragments from that night. When they were up on the stage, performing his opera. When he'd held her for the last time. Relentlessly he'd tried to shield himself from he memories, from his feelings, even though it was useless. She was the only love he'd ever had, and he knew he would not forget her easily. Still, he knew he must try.
Finally, not wanting to think about her any longer, he turned from the gate, sat at his organ, and began to play.
Later that evening, Christine sat next to Meg on her bed in the dormitories. "You know, Christine, no one has seen nor heard of the Phantom of the Opera since your departure… My mother and I believe that he has left the opera house." Christine's eyes grew wide with surprise.
"Really, Meg? I suppose that's good news then." Meg nodded solemnly.
"Well, I best be off. I suppose your mother has gone to bed; I would not want to keep you up, seeing as you have rehearsals tomorrow," she said, hugging her friend.
"Good bye, Christine, and do come and visit us again," Meg said as Christine rose from the bed and walked to the doorway. She turned back to Meg and smiled.
"Oh, I will, Meg; goodbye." She said, waving, before exiting the room. In truth, she wasn't planning on leaving, not yet at least. Christine made her way to the dressing room that she had used all those month ago, and pulled back the mirror. She would go to Erik's old home that night, for she had to put the ghosts of her past to rest.
She reached the shore of the lake, and departed from the gondola, her eyes scanning the lair as she absentmindedly fiddled with her wedding ring, they fell upon the organ, or the man sitting at the organ, and gasped.
Vaguely, Erik became aware of a presence behind him. He tore his gaze from his music and turned to find Christine Daae. He rose from the bench, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Christine." Many times before he'd said that word with such tenderness and love. Now, only a harsh coldness occupied his tone. He fell silent a moment, so spellbound he was by her sudden appearance. "What are you doing in my home?"
Her eyes widened, and she immediately looked down at the ground, trying to process what was going on.
"They…" she began, feeling frozen in her place. "They told me you had gone…"
"Who?" he asked sharply, his gaze on her intense.
"M-Meg... She said she and her mother had come to that conclusion..."
"Well, they were not correct, were they? What were you thinking, coming down here?" he asked quietly.
"I needed to put the past behind me... I thought that if I came down here things would be different and Raoul and I-" she cut herself off, not realizing how much she had said.
"You and the vicomte? What of you? I suspect your marriage is going along swimmingly."
"No... Marriage is not what I expected it would be."
"You expected it to be perfect," he stated. "You are so naîve, Christine." He reached out and traced the outline of her jaw.
Christine jerked her head back from his touch, turning from him. "I can remember when you welcomed my touch gladly," he said with a quiet, mirthless laugh. But he did not pull his hand away; instead, he moved his hand lower, stroking her neck and stepping closer to her.
She closed her eyes, feeling him gain power over her once more. Her mind screamed for her to make him stop, but her heart and body never wanted it to end. To her horror, she heard herself moan softly, desire beginning to consume her.
He smirked, moving his hand lower still to cup one of her breasts. She inhaled sharply, feeling a wetness form between her thighs. If
he wished to take her, he would, and she was powerless to stop it, even if she wanted to. Raoul never even entered her thoughts as he touched her, for Erik had always been the one in her dreams.
His caresses were having the desired effect on her. He lowered his head and kissed her neck roughly, so that it would leave a mark. Christine felt all of her composure and restrain slipping away completely.
"Erik..." she moaned, her voice thick with a sudden lust that she had never felt so strongly before.
He then turned abruptly from her. "Leave, Christine."
Her eyes shot open, feeling dazed. "Wuh... What?" She stuttered, blinking; trying to decipher what was going on.
"Leave. Why must you return and mock me?"
"Erik... Please... I didn't mean..."
"Damn it, Christine, do you not understand what I am telling you? Leave, now!"
A sudden feeling of fear replacing her desire as his anger grew, she turned and ran to the gondola, rowing herself quickly away from the shore. What had just happened? How could she do that to Raoul? To herself? Christine looked down at her wedding ring, and felt the guilt she had been feeling ever since she had married consume her once again. She looked back at the shore, feeling tears fall from her eyes, smearing her make up as they fell down her cheeks. She knew now that they had seen each other again, that he had touched her again, there was no chance -no chance at all- that she would ever be able to put her past behind her; that she would never be able to let the memory of him go.
Erik turned from the lake sharply and walked to the bedroom; he picked up the decanter of brandy with sat near the bed and took a deep drink from it before letting himself fall to the bed. Why had she come back now, when he was trying so hard to forget her. The timing was damnable. When he was touching her, the lust and desire in her eyes had reflected his own feelings, making telling her to leave that much harder. But he knew that she could have stayed. He knew where that would have progressed to... He forced himself tostop brooding upon it, and eventually he fell into a fitful rest.
Well, thank you for reading. If you like it, please review, and we'll have the next chapter up soon.