The Sultan of Swoon
Erik had to stay at the hospital for another three days for observations. It was not so bad however. The pain slowly began to lessen and I visited him every day. And, by the end of the second day, his room had been transformed into what looked like a botanical garden the occasionally grew mini muffins. Between the people at his office, me, my friends, and several people at my office, Erik managed to collect at least a dozen bouquets of flowers, and quiet a few baskets filled with either muffins or fruit.
He had been unaware of this tradition involving the sick or hospitalized and when the first bunch of flowers had been delivered into his room he had been sure there had been some sort of mistake. However, the nurse assured him that the flowers were his, and she showed him the small card which read,
Erik,
Heard about the accident; hope you are alright! Get well soon, we are going to miss you around here while you are gone! But make sure to relax, work will be waiting for you when you come back!
It was signed by several people from his office. And more kept showing up like that, all from people he had no idea would even care if he was hurt. He had to admit it was nice…to have people care that he was stuck, immobile and in pain, in a hospital room.
But the one he enjoyed the most was what he received from me. I sent him roses; writing on the note that it was about time I gave them to him.
After what felt like years to him and to me, I was able to bring Erik home from the hospital. It was a better cold day; perfect for my new winter coat but not much else. It had snowed the night before and there was still quite a bit plied on the New York City streets and the roads were slick.
Erik limped out of the hospital at my side one day after work; he was able to walk with one crutch under one arm. He had been advised to get a wheel chair but he absolutely refused.
When he caught sight of the winter conditions outside and the yellow cab waiting to take us home, he felt a sudden uneasiness.
"You know, I have not been outside in awhile and I miss it, maybe we should just walk home," He suggested,
"Erik darling, home is about a hundred blocks away and my boats were not made for walking," I smiled at him because his deception was about as thin as a runway model; I knew what had happened to him the last time he had been in a cab, but there was no other way to go about this.
Erik sighed; he had doubted I would go for his suggestion, and he knew that even at his physical best, he could not walk home from the hospital. We approached the front doors and Erik felt a strange tingling run up and down his spine. He was about to step into the world as a normal man for the first time.
When I had told him about his face, he had not believed me at first. After I left, he had found the strength through curiosity to raise his hand to the side of his cheek. He ran his hand along his skin, and to his shock, he had found it smooth where it had once been twisted and lumpy.
He had realized in that moment he had something he had wished for and dreamed about his whole life, and so, he could not help but wonder, why didn't it feel more monumental to him? He almost felt indifferent toward it. Of course, initially he was overjoyed, but then he had forgotten about it.
It took him a whole day to realized; when he had had his old life, he had wanted love and security and a family. And, he had believed that in order to get those things he needed a normal looking face. However in his new life, he had love and security and the makings of a family. Erik realized that he was much happier to get all of those things back than he could ever be about his face.
Still, it was an interesting prospect. He would no longer have to pretend to ignore every wicked stare and every disgusted face that was made at him. Now, he could be a completely normal man; the Erik of the past, the phantom, was dead; gone.
Of course, he thought to himself, he would never be a completely normal man. He still thought about the opera every now and then, and he still was a man from the past living in the future, but he was not a man whose past ruled his future, and for that also he was grateful.
The electric doors of the hospital slid open to allow us to exit. Erik took another deep breath as we walked out. This was it, he thought, here I go.
I glanced sidelong at him as we left the hospital. I knew that he must be thinking about his face. I remembered all the problems it had caused us, and now the source of all that was gone. I also knew that if he had lived that way his whole life, he was in for a real change. He had been handsome to me before, but now he was absolutely gorgeous. Every woman in Manhattan would have their eyes on him. I did not believe Erik was the kind of man to leave me for some other beautiful stick figure with no soul; he had only left me for Karen because he thought I was in love with Mark.
We made it to the cab without incident. Erik carefully got in and I followed. As the cab began to move I felt Erik tense and I put my hand on his knee,
"It's going to be alright," I said to him soothingly, "We'll be home soon,"
Erik nodded; home soon. He was finally going home. He had missed my apartment; he had missed living there together. He missed Sammy and the way I burnt bacon on Saturday mornings.
We finally reached our building. Erik limped out of the cab and we approached the door. Upon entering, our doorman smiled at me,
"Evening Miss Moss," He said, "And who is this?" He winked at me and then glanced at Erik,
"You don't recognize me?" Erik smirked amused,
The man stared at him for a moment, "Mr. Duval?" he looked shocked; could this be the same man he had seen with me before? The one who looked like death?
I felt that this confrontation was unnecessary; actually I felt that I just wanted him back up in my apartment as soon as possible. I knew that with a broken arm and crushed leg Erik would not be able to really have all the bedtime fun, but at least we would be together alone.
Erik sensed my anxiousness to get upstairs and he felt it to. He had felt his heart rate quicken when I placed my hand on his knee and he realized that soon he would be alone with me. However he was enjoying this a bit.
"Oh so you do recognize me," our doorman was staring open mouthed at him, "It something wrong?" Erik asked mildly,
"You-you just look…different," He stuttered,
"You mean not like a walking plague that is not good enough for Olivia?" Our doorman winced; he had not been aware that Erik had known his opinions of him, let alone that Erik would ever call him on it,
"W-well…" He stuttered,
Erik smiled at how awkward the doorman felt; I tugged on his good arm and he nodded, "I am going upstairs now…with Olivia…but you have fun with this…door thing," and with that Erik's new face took its first revenge.
"You did not have to say that," I told him as we waited for an elevator,
"No, I didn't…but it was a bit amusing, wasn't it?" I had to admit that it had been; I had been angry with the rest of the building when they had turned against Erik because of his face, and it was rewarding to see some retribution.
It felt wonderful to finally have my door in sight. Erik was glad too. His body was starting to ach again after all the movement he had had to do. He would be grateful to sit down again.
I hurriedly unlocked the door. At that moment I also released the speeding bullet. Sammy saw Erik standing in the hallway and bolted toward him. Practically knocking him over, Sammy jumped up, his paws reaching Erik's hips and sliding down his legs,
Erik was happy to see the dog again; he had missed his energy. However, it hurt.
I laughed at there reunion and then dutifully pulled Sammy off of him. We moved into the apartment and Erik made it to the sofa before he collapsed, no longer able to stand due to a burning pain in his leg,
Just as exhausted from a long day at work, I sat down heavily beside him. Staring around the apartment, Erik was happy to see it was exactly how he remembered it; he had thought of it often during our separation and he was glad to see that his memory served him.
However, he suddenly saw something he did not remember; something that made his stomach churn.
"Olivia, you kept those roses?" He stared shocked at the blackened wilting flowers which had been his last present to me. I came and sat beside him on the sofa, pealing off my boots and curling up beside him.
"They were all I had left of you," I answered honestly; resting my head on his shoulder,
Erik felt terrible. He disengaged slightly so he was looking right at me. Using his good arm and hand, he tilted my chin upward. There was still a lot we had to say to each other. I was slightly angry with him for being such a pig head for so long, but after almost losing him in a car crash, it was hard to think about that.
So, when he leaned over and pressed his lips to mine I did not think about anything else. I just closed my eyes; happy we were home, together. I quickly removed my suit jacket; Erik leaned back so I was semi laying on top of him. What made it difficult was the fact that half his body was broken and his ribs were still sore. I didn't want to hurt him, but I did want him.
Erik felt hot searing pain run through his still healing body as I placed even the slightest pressure on him. I knew he wanted this to happen as much as I did, but I could also tell that it hurt. I stopped and smiled at him,
"This hurts, doesn't it?" I asked him smiling,
He tried to make a brave face but then he shook his head, "It's like a thousand fire ants are eating be alive," he said honestly,
I laughed, nodding and moving back to an upright sitting position,
"How about I just get us something to eat?" I got up off the sofa and walked toward my phone, planning on ordering something,
"Thank God," Erik said, re situating himself so his body was not throbbing, "I can't believe hospital food could be that bad,"
I laughed, "It's a conspiracy…they make you better but the food makes you sicker," I dialed as I laughed. Thank God indeed, I thought. Thank God we were together again.
I had known, or at least I had thought I had known, that we were meant to be together. When we had been apart, I had thought maybe I could move on…but every time I was held back by a feeling. I loved him, and I didn't what to be with anyone else. And it was easy. It was almost like we had never been apart. I'm not sure if it is a good thing, when you are in love, to glaze over things, but I felt in our situation it seemed like the thing to do.
The next morning Erik woke up before I did. He had had the most glorious sleep he had had in ages; my bed was the infinitely more comfortable than the one at the hospital. It was like cashmere to polyester. But what was even better was the warmth of my body against his. He felt it was too good to be true to be waking up next me again.
I nestled my head against his shoulder as I slept. Erik sighed happily, he had his good arm wrapped around my shoulders and I was laying snug to the side of his body. Erik traced my arm with his fingers gently. He was pleased as I nestled closer to him and smiled in my sleep. How he had thought it was better to live with out this he did not know.
Looking over me to the window in my room, Erik noted the gray sky and suddenly he felt a jolt in his stomach. For the first time since he had been here, it was truly snowing in New York City. It was comfortable feeling, he thought, to be home; settled deep in a warm bed and in love, while outside the weather was cold and blistery.
Some minutes later, my eyes fluttered open. At first I did not quite remember where I was, but then it hit me. With a spark of happiness I remembered I was in my own bed with Erik again. Lifting my eyes I noted that he was awake.
"Morning," I said sleepily,
"Good morning my darling," I had almost forgotten how lovely his voice sounded; though he had lost most of the French accent he had arrived here with, his voice was still deep and rich and powerful. Not to mention overwhelmingly sexy. I raised my head further and gave him a quick kiss on his lips.
At this point I noticed the snow outside,
"Oh Erik look!" I pointed to the window, "It's snowing!"
"I know I saw," He smiled at my childlike excitement over the big white flakes falling from the sky,
"You know what this means?" I asked him,
"No, what does it mean?" He said, still smiling,
"It means we have to stay in bed all day and only get up to make hot chocolate," Erik did not know what hot chocolate was, but staying in my bed all day sounded good enough. Actually, it had been what he wanted all along.
And so, my bed became our own little world. I got up occasionally to bring in food and Erik drank hot chocolate for the first time in his life. Sammy also made a visit to our little world. After I opened the door to the bed room for the first time, he bound in and jumped up on the bed; crawling over to Erik and licking his face,
"Sammy!" Erik cried, "Down boy!" the dog completely ignored him and instead, curled up in a ball beside him. I laughed,
"Alright but when I come back I want my spot back again," And so there we were, a man a woman and their dog; all in bed on a snowy Saturday afternoon.
"How about I put on some music?" I asked later in the day,
I saw Erik's face brighten as I moved to my stereo, "Do you like Sinatra?" I asked him,
"Who?" he asked,
"Oh my God you don't know who Frank Sinatra is?" I was shocked,
Erik realized he had made a mistake, but it was too late now so he just went with it, "Never heard of him,"
"God, you must have lived under a rock in Paris," I teased him as I put in the CD,
Under a rock, under and opera, whatever, Erik thought as I returned to bed. He had an uneasy feeling in that moment; should he ever tell me the truth? Or was it better this way? He had lost me once and that had been unbearable, should he risk losing me again by telling me about his past?
But then the song started and he became temporarily distracted,
"This is one of his most famous songs; New York, New York," Erik listened for a moment. This was very far from the singing he was used to,
"People like this?" He asked, and he had to admit, it was not that bad,
"God yes!" I said, "Everyone loved Frank; and the girls went wild for him," I nestled against Erik's chest. He was not feeling too much pain at the moment because he had just taken one of the pills the doctor had prescribed for him.
"Really?" Erik asked me, interested, "And what about you? Are you wild for Frankie?"
I laughed, "Well, he does have an amazing voice,"
"I bet I can sing better than him," Erik said without hesitation,
I snorted, "You think you can sing better than Frank Sinatra? The Voice? Ol' Blue Eyes? I don't believe it," I teased him,
"Alright, I'll prove it," He said; he was the Angel of Music goddamn it, he thought, he could take on The Sultan of Swoon, "Just restart this song and turn it down a bit,"
I laughed and did as he asked. Then I settled down beside him and waited for the show to start,
The first few bars of the song when by and then… "Start spreading the news…"
I sat up in shock; I had been ready to say that he was much better and sexier than Frank Sinatra even if he sang like a rusty hinge. I had not been ready for him to actually sing better than Frank Sinatra. I turned slightly and watched him in wonder,
"I'm leaving today…" It had been awhile since the last time Erik had sung anything, but it turned out that when you dedicate such a great portion of your life to something, you don't forget it too easy. Erik knew by the look on my face he was succeeding,
"I want to be a part of it – New York, New York," I was ready to swoon,
"These vagabond shoes, are longing to stray," My heart beat quickened, his voice was deep and rich and soothing,
"Right through the very heart of it, - New York New York," He was smiling at the bewildered look on my face, "I told you I could sing better," He said to me,
"Don't stop!" I cried; though I had never heard him sing before I now felt I never wanted to hear anything else ever again,
Erik laughed, "These little town blues, are melting away, I'll make a brand new start of it, in old New York,"
"If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere, it's up to you, New York New York," as he finished I could no longer hold myself back; I kissed him as though I had not kissed him in a year; as though my very life depended on it. Due to the pain killer he had just taken, Erik was able to enjoy this; he moved his arm and wrapped it about me, skimming his fingers up and down my back, and he returned my kiss with equal passion.
When we broke apart I was gasping for air, "Alright…" I managed to say, "You are better,"
He leaned forward to kiss me again, "You are damn right I am," He smiled before he pressed his lips hungrily to mine. Suddenly this was not enough; I needed more. Hurriedly I removed the shirt I was wearing. I knew we still could not really have sex, but it had been so long, I just needed to be touched by him again.
I trembled as his hand grazed over my breast. I realized that he would have trouble undoing my bra with only one hand so I took it off for him. I sighed with pleasure as his lips trailed down my neck, sucking gently before he moved lower. Feeling his lips against my breast again I began to tremble. It had been so long since we had been so intimate and I had missed him so badly.
It occurred to me suddenly how badly I wanted to be with him, and not just be in bed with him. I wanted all of him; I wanted to love him with all my heart for as long as I lived. My God, I thought, I wanted to be his wife.
I had come very close to losing him many times. First his face, then when he thought I wanted to be with Mark, and then when he had almost died. After all that, all I wanted was to be happy together. Why bother brining up the past?
Why bother indeed, Erik thought as he kissed me. He had thought it all over while he had been in the hospital. He was astounded that I had taken him back; it was more than he deserved. He knew now that since he had been lucky enough to get me back, he never wanted to risk losing me again. He would ask me to marry him. However, what of his past?
Should he tell me that he was from the year 1882? Should he mention that he was once the Opera Ghost? Erik felt he owed me the truth, but how was he supposed to explain that on the worst day of his life he had been transported to New York City?
Erik decided we would decide later. At the moment, all that was on his mind was me. And all that was on my mind was my own Ol Blue Eyed angel.