Erik's Desire

By: Muse of Destructiveness

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own the beautiful legacy and character of the phantom Erik. He and the others belong to themselves and Gaston Leroux for writing their story. The only thing I do own is a high respect for the phantom and my OC's.

Warning: Later there will be much Christine bashing. I despise her for breaking the phantom's heart like she did, and later there will be Raoul bashing. Sympathy pains for these two will be treated with large tranquilizers and flames will be used to burn my old school papers.

Chapter 3

He knew he was drowning, being pulled into an even deeper wave of desire as she pulled his head down to hers. His mind commanded his hands to push her away, instead they brought her closer. Erik half-expected her to pull away from him, and softly cursed as she leaned into him. She breathed deeply, as if infusing herself with his breath.

Her fingers tightened in his hair, and she brought her mouth to his in a kiss designed to breach the defenses he'd refused to lower. One hand roamed up her back, tangling in the thick ebony mass that hung loose for a change. He whispered her name against her lips and then as quickly as she had come, she was gone.

Erik's eyes snapped open, his mouth open in a cry of despair. A cry that had been her name, and yet it still lingered in the quiet of his room. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and unconsciously running a hand through his hair. This had to stop. No wonder he was so snappish all the time. Long days and sleepless, seemingly never ending nights filled with dreams of her.

God, why couldn't he remember that she was just his student? Why couldn't his body understand that, or better yet why couldn't his heart? He groaned, his mind still foggy with fatigue yet fully aware of her absence. He had to find a way to stop this before he ended up like the last time, before he had his heart ripped from his chest and shattered into tiny pieces.

The hand that wasn't tangled in his hair sought the pen by his bed, and then fished for some paper. It was the only thing that helped him through these restless nights. His music, a new composition, which was nothing but a torrent of notes that constantly reminded him of her. Shaking his mind free from the fog of sleep, he began to let the notes pour freely onto the page as he thought of the soft, gentleness that had plagued his dreams that night.

Ravyn watches her teacher cautiously, her crimson eyes darker than their usual blood red color. Today's session had gone no better than the last, and Erik was in no better of a mood. The single eye uncovered by the mask looked tired and the black smudges under it didn't look promising. Now he was just sitting there, staring into nothing as if he was in his own little world.

"Erik?" she questioned, coming to his side and placing a gentle hand on his arm. If her question hadn't roused him from his trance, the soft hand on his arm nearly unraveled his control. He jumped and for a swift second she could see the fiery passion her touch had roused. Then it was shoved behind the barrier he had placed there just for that purpose.

She trembled at the anger in his eyes, as he whirled upon her. "My God, woman! What is it?" he growled.

"I…I am sorry if I startled you. I didn't mean to…" she stammered, taking a step back from the yellow eyes that glared at her and seared her soul.

It wasn't her words but the tears that finally cooled the anger that hid any other emotions she might have glimpsed. He took a step toward her in an attempt to apologize, and winced as she flinched away from him. "Ravyn…I'm sorry," he said, walking up behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders. His voice had adopted a soothing tone, and the warmth from his touch was enough to make Ravyn shiver from something that wasn't fear.

"It's alright," she murmured, turning to face him. The sight of her tear-streaked face was morbidly attractive and it made a similar shudder run down his spine. "I really shouldn't have bothered you." She tried to ignore the fact that there wasn't even an inch of space that separated them, and focused on the apology that was etched into his face.

"Nonsense," he whispered, looking down into eyes that would shame a rose into hiding its perfect bloom.

A/N: Yay! Another installment in the Erik/Ravyn saga which mind you is about to get very interesting

Review Corner

MuseodDestructiveness: This chappie was fairly difficult to write but considering I wish I was Ravyn…yeah. LOL Hope you enjoyed…Read n Review!

The-Music-of-the-Night: See…I wouldn't let Erik go unhappy for too long. It's just not right to make the Phantom more depressed than he already is.