Ethalas Tuath'an and Mz.Kelsi: Don't worry. winkwink
Erik forPresident: First of all, I love the pen name. Second of all, I'm not sure if that was positive
or negative, but either way thank you for the review.
One more note before we get on with the chapter: I've changed the format a bit. Hope it helps.
Chapter 6
Hours later, Christine woke. Where the hell am I? And what in God's
name happened to my clothes? she thought, realizing that she was on
her stomach, naked, a mere sheet covering only her ass. The rest of
her, to Christine's horror, was absolutely exposed. Her hair was
sprawled out around her messily, her lips were terribly swollen, and
she had a dull ache between her thighs.
Slowly, she opened her eyes, finding herself beneath the opera house.
So it wasn't a dream? What the have I done! her mind screamed at her.
She turned her head, just to make sure he was there. He was.
Christine couldn't say anything? She couldn't even make a move to cover
herself. She was just too shocked that it had actually happened.
Erik slowly opened his eyes, an unfamiliar, yet comforting warmth next
to him. He turned on his side so he faced her. "Good morning," he said
quietly. Christine's eyes widened; it was all turning out so real.
Finally, she found her voice.
"Good morning..." she said softly, still feeling frozen to her spot.
After a few minutes, she became increasingly aware of her nakedness,
and she grasped the sheet, pulling it over her, covering her once
exposed skin.
Vaguely, he felt a small amount of hurt at her actions. Not
disappointment, but hurt. He quickly brushed it off as he turned and
sat up on the edge of the bed. "I suppose you'd best be getting home
soon."
Christine blinked. Right. Home. She had an estate. She had a
husband. She was viscomtess. She had servants. Servants that would
talk and gossip just as badly as the other noblewomen did.
She nodded; all she could utter was "Yes."
"Your clothing is on the ground," he prompted quietly.
She sat up, turned so that she was on her back and sat up, clutching
the sheet to her chest. She closed her eyes, and mumbled, "Right...
My... clothing." She knew she was acting like a bit of a loon, but
this whole situation seemed crazy to her.
Christine turned so she was on the edge of the bed, her bare back facing him, as she leaned down
and picked up her chemise from the floor, pulling it over her head.
None of this felt right to Erik... After such a night, based on what
he'd always read, and believed, they should stay in each others arms
for many hours, talking quietly, kissing each other gently and
exchanging I love yous. But of course, she didn't love him.
At the absence of it all he felt an overwhelming sadness... He doubted
very much that this was how it was supposed to be.
He turned to Christine who was now stepping back into her dress. "Is there any way I
can assist you?" he asked.
She looked over at him, pain shooting through her... It was her fault
all this had happened; it was turning out to be one big mistake. She
shook her head as she laced the bodice of her dress. "No thank you..."
she said, trying to keep her voice from braking. She didn't know why
she felt this way... She had gotten everything she had wanted;
everything she expected, so why did she feel so empty?
"Alright..." he replied quietly. Once she'd finished dressing, he
asked, "Do you need me to row the gondola for you?"
She licked her lips absentmindedly, feeling how cursedly swollen they
were. "If you would please..." she replied, casting her eyes downward.
This was definitely not how she was supposed to feel after succeeding
in getting exactly what she wanted... It was all wrong.
He nodded, and rose from the bed, picking up his discarded robe and trousers. He
pulled the clothing on and walked out to the gondola, she following
close behind. After helping her in, as a formality, he began to row the
boat.
Neither one of them said anything as Erik rowed to the shore;
once they reached it, he helped her out, and she wondered why it was
that she suddenly couldn't meet his eyes.
The silence that followed as they ascended the staircase was
deafening.
Finally, they reached the mirror. "Goodbye, Christine," he
said softly, hardly expecting for her to ever return. She would be
leaving him for the second time. The first time had been hard enough,
but at least it had had a reasonable amount of closure. This time, he
would be left wondering about her; this emptiness would never leave
him. This hunger for something more would always be present.
She knew in her heart that they would never meet again; that she would
have exactly what she wanted for all of eternity... His body... The
memory of what it had been like to be with him. That was all she had
wanted, but now that she had gotten it, it just didn't seem to fit...
It didn't seem to give her the closure that she had been searching for;
it wouldn't keep her warm at night.
Making love--no, having sex--with
Erik had only resulted negatively. She had betrayed her husband, she
had managed to break Erik's heart, and crush her very soul all in one
night. She longed for him to hold her close, to tell her he loved
her... To tell her she was a good person, but knew that that would most
certainly always be a dream. She took a deep breath and swallowed the
lump in her throat, blinking back the tears in her eyes.
"Goodbye, Erik," and with that, she turned and exited through the
mirror, tears streaming from her face as soon as she was out of his
sight.
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