She was held an exquisite prisoner by a composition written after I became
her Angel of Music. Never before had a song flowed so effortlessly from my
hands - she was my Muse, my heartbeat, my very life. Our extraordinary bond
was as intricately bound to me as my own breath. Words paled in the depth
of my love for her. So I gave her the most beautiful part of me - my voice
and my music.
I sang to her of the beauty of the night and the glorious possibilities we two could share - if only she would open her mind and soul to me.
As I had once dreamt, I made sweet, musical love to her - watching in rapture as she leaned her head back in ecstasy as I gently and tenderly touched her with my song.
Her evident pleasure in my voice was a drug and I was hopelessly addicted.
Daring to bring her here to my lair, I gazed at her with spellbound adoration. I risked touching the outline of her hair, her shoulder, scarcely believing that she was here. "She was here!" my heart resonated triumphantly. Christine was breathing the same air as myself and looking at me in awe, if not in love. I was drunk on her presence; sweetly intoxicated with her nearness. Her loveliness brought me closer to physical ecstasy than I ever thought believable.
Circling her stealthily, my movements were fluid and almost beyond my command. She and I were in an intimate dance with both of us held captive by the other. It was difficult to know who was the more entranced.
As I sang to her, we would look intensely into each other's eyes while my song caressed her. Now, this moment, as I held her spellbound with my voice, I could freely express my devotion. Not knowing if this would be my only opportunity to declare my feelings, I seized it.
As the circle closed, I was physically nearer to her than I had ever been. Stalking her cautiously, I found myself standing before her. My voice soared in a turbulent crescendo and at the pinnacle of my worshipful song - I boldly gathered her in my arms. When Christine automatically rested her head upon me, I nearly wept with the sweetness of it. My voice drifted into delicate lullaby as I held her until there was nothing but the sound of our breathing. Not having experience in matters of love, I did my best to control the hard pounding of my heart lest it wake her. I lifted her in my arms and went to the divan, cradling her. For hours I held her while both of us were in another reality where nothing existed except each other.
Regretfully, I knew I must lay her down to sleep. She stirred when I stood and lifted her in my arms. As I began to hum the lullaby again, with a soft sigh, she fell back asleep while I watched her in pure love. I gloried in the feeling of her in my arms as I carried her to the spare room and laid her gingerly on the bed. Covering her, I gazed at her unbelievingly. The nagging thought came that I would have explanations to make when she awoke, but was quickly dismissed. I was too high on the wings of emotion to consider sordid truth. Taking advantage of her unconsciousness, I permitted my eyes to move down her lovely figure for just a moment. Oh, she was so beautiful! Backing carefully away from her, I silently closed the door, resting my head against it with a smile on my face. I could think of nothing beautiful enough to follow what we had just shared except music. Anything else would be sacrilegious.
Dazed, I went to my pipe organ to give myself over to my overflowing passion for Christine. Playing the song I had sung for her was the only way to hold this sensation for just a little bit longer.
As I tried in vain to express the dazzling feelings swirling in my heart, I totally immersed myself in the effort. Unknown to me, she had crept behind me silently. For a split second, I felt the cold air hit my face as she ripped off my mask. When I automatically turned, her face displayed the sickening horror and shock of my entire lifetime. I was completely grief- stricken that Christine would now never be free from the memory of the unbelievably frightening visage before her. The rage at this knowledge rendered me temporarily mad and I do not recall much following the fierce cry of rage I emitted. The blur of fiery hostility began to clear when I found myself across the room from her, sobbing and on my knees. Christine lay crumpled upon the floor with my mask near her hand. Cautiously, I started to crawl piteously across the floor, keeping my left hand over the ruined side of my face in order to spare her further. I begged her to see beyond the monstrous face to the living, breathing man who loved her past reason.
Closer to her now, Christine looked at me through her tears with her hair hanging in her face. Once more, I was so close to her divine beauty. Undone and ashamed, I broke down wishing I could dissolve into the floor and disappear. I perceived her moving and glanced gingerly upwards. She bewildered me by holding out my mask in a trembling hand. Her compassionate offer seared my soul as I tentatively took it and quickly put it on. Somewhat composed enough to look at her, I hesitatingly looked into her face. We were both overwhelmed by emotional turmoil. My shaking arm moved up to brush her hair away from her tear-stained cheeks. We stared into each other's eyes for several minutes as silent messages were transmitted between us.
Exhausted, I finally forced myself to my feet and held out my hand to her. I stood uncertain, not sure if she would even take it now that she had seen me. Christine looked up at me sorrowfully but she moved to her knees. Keeping my gaze, she doubtfully took my hand and I found I could not even breathe as I helped her to her feet. We said nothing to each other. I slowly led her back towards her room. I leaned against the doorway, whispering softly "You should sleep now, my Dear. You will be entirely safe from me, I assure you. In the morning, I'll return you to your home." Not able to bring myself to look at her and see her revulsion, I kept my eyes closed.
I heard her murmur in perplexity, "But....."
My eyes opened but I did not look towards her. I stared across the room blindly. Anywhere but at her. "Yes, my Dear?"
So softly I could barely hear her, Christine choked, "I...I'm sorry." Then, she began to cry.
Hating myself more than I ever had before, I took her hand in mine, but still did not look upon her face. I had no idea what to say at such a moment. Her dreams and ideals had been shattered and I had violated her precious innocence. Even though I knew it had been beyond my power to resist her, I regretted the anguish I caused her. Taking a deep breath, I managed, "No, Christine. It is I who am sorry." Having nothing to lose now, I finally looked her in the face. Her tearful expression of misery undid me as a tear slipped unbidden behind my mask. Slowly, so she could move away if she chose, I stood in front of her with my hands upon her upper arms. Gently, I gathered her in a tender embrace as I wet the top of her hair with my own teardrops. Her shoulders began to shake as she released the emotion within her. Helpless to alleviate her distress, I simply held her.
After a time, her shudders ceased. I lifted her chin and wiped the tears from her eyes with my hands. Then, I took both of her hands in mine and walked backwards into the bedroom. "Come, my Dear. You are exhausted." Between her successful performance and the shock she'd just endured, she was overcome. She followed mutely and I pulled back the covers motioning for her to get in bed. Obediently, she lay on her side with her hands under her cheek as I covered her delicately. I did not utter a word as I adjusted her lamp to a lower intensity. Closing her door, I heard her speak. "Angel?"
Immediately, I opened the door again, my heart in my throat and answered breathlessly, "Yes, my Dear?"
She had leaned up upon her arm and looked at me for several endless moments. "Good night."
My heart breaking with disappointment and delight, I whispered, "Bonne nuit, ma cherie." I slowly closed her door for the second time that evening.
I sang to her of the beauty of the night and the glorious possibilities we two could share - if only she would open her mind and soul to me.
As I had once dreamt, I made sweet, musical love to her - watching in rapture as she leaned her head back in ecstasy as I gently and tenderly touched her with my song.
Her evident pleasure in my voice was a drug and I was hopelessly addicted.
Daring to bring her here to my lair, I gazed at her with spellbound adoration. I risked touching the outline of her hair, her shoulder, scarcely believing that she was here. "She was here!" my heart resonated triumphantly. Christine was breathing the same air as myself and looking at me in awe, if not in love. I was drunk on her presence; sweetly intoxicated with her nearness. Her loveliness brought me closer to physical ecstasy than I ever thought believable.
Circling her stealthily, my movements were fluid and almost beyond my command. She and I were in an intimate dance with both of us held captive by the other. It was difficult to know who was the more entranced.
As I sang to her, we would look intensely into each other's eyes while my song caressed her. Now, this moment, as I held her spellbound with my voice, I could freely express my devotion. Not knowing if this would be my only opportunity to declare my feelings, I seized it.
As the circle closed, I was physically nearer to her than I had ever been. Stalking her cautiously, I found myself standing before her. My voice soared in a turbulent crescendo and at the pinnacle of my worshipful song - I boldly gathered her in my arms. When Christine automatically rested her head upon me, I nearly wept with the sweetness of it. My voice drifted into delicate lullaby as I held her until there was nothing but the sound of our breathing. Not having experience in matters of love, I did my best to control the hard pounding of my heart lest it wake her. I lifted her in my arms and went to the divan, cradling her. For hours I held her while both of us were in another reality where nothing existed except each other.
Regretfully, I knew I must lay her down to sleep. She stirred when I stood and lifted her in my arms. As I began to hum the lullaby again, with a soft sigh, she fell back asleep while I watched her in pure love. I gloried in the feeling of her in my arms as I carried her to the spare room and laid her gingerly on the bed. Covering her, I gazed at her unbelievingly. The nagging thought came that I would have explanations to make when she awoke, but was quickly dismissed. I was too high on the wings of emotion to consider sordid truth. Taking advantage of her unconsciousness, I permitted my eyes to move down her lovely figure for just a moment. Oh, she was so beautiful! Backing carefully away from her, I silently closed the door, resting my head against it with a smile on my face. I could think of nothing beautiful enough to follow what we had just shared except music. Anything else would be sacrilegious.
Dazed, I went to my pipe organ to give myself over to my overflowing passion for Christine. Playing the song I had sung for her was the only way to hold this sensation for just a little bit longer.
As I tried in vain to express the dazzling feelings swirling in my heart, I totally immersed myself in the effort. Unknown to me, she had crept behind me silently. For a split second, I felt the cold air hit my face as she ripped off my mask. When I automatically turned, her face displayed the sickening horror and shock of my entire lifetime. I was completely grief- stricken that Christine would now never be free from the memory of the unbelievably frightening visage before her. The rage at this knowledge rendered me temporarily mad and I do not recall much following the fierce cry of rage I emitted. The blur of fiery hostility began to clear when I found myself across the room from her, sobbing and on my knees. Christine lay crumpled upon the floor with my mask near her hand. Cautiously, I started to crawl piteously across the floor, keeping my left hand over the ruined side of my face in order to spare her further. I begged her to see beyond the monstrous face to the living, breathing man who loved her past reason.
Closer to her now, Christine looked at me through her tears with her hair hanging in her face. Once more, I was so close to her divine beauty. Undone and ashamed, I broke down wishing I could dissolve into the floor and disappear. I perceived her moving and glanced gingerly upwards. She bewildered me by holding out my mask in a trembling hand. Her compassionate offer seared my soul as I tentatively took it and quickly put it on. Somewhat composed enough to look at her, I hesitatingly looked into her face. We were both overwhelmed by emotional turmoil. My shaking arm moved up to brush her hair away from her tear-stained cheeks. We stared into each other's eyes for several minutes as silent messages were transmitted between us.
Exhausted, I finally forced myself to my feet and held out my hand to her. I stood uncertain, not sure if she would even take it now that she had seen me. Christine looked up at me sorrowfully but she moved to her knees. Keeping my gaze, she doubtfully took my hand and I found I could not even breathe as I helped her to her feet. We said nothing to each other. I slowly led her back towards her room. I leaned against the doorway, whispering softly "You should sleep now, my Dear. You will be entirely safe from me, I assure you. In the morning, I'll return you to your home." Not able to bring myself to look at her and see her revulsion, I kept my eyes closed.
I heard her murmur in perplexity, "But....."
My eyes opened but I did not look towards her. I stared across the room blindly. Anywhere but at her. "Yes, my Dear?"
So softly I could barely hear her, Christine choked, "I...I'm sorry." Then, she began to cry.
Hating myself more than I ever had before, I took her hand in mine, but still did not look upon her face. I had no idea what to say at such a moment. Her dreams and ideals had been shattered and I had violated her precious innocence. Even though I knew it had been beyond my power to resist her, I regretted the anguish I caused her. Taking a deep breath, I managed, "No, Christine. It is I who am sorry." Having nothing to lose now, I finally looked her in the face. Her tearful expression of misery undid me as a tear slipped unbidden behind my mask. Slowly, so she could move away if she chose, I stood in front of her with my hands upon her upper arms. Gently, I gathered her in a tender embrace as I wet the top of her hair with my own teardrops. Her shoulders began to shake as she released the emotion within her. Helpless to alleviate her distress, I simply held her.
After a time, her shudders ceased. I lifted her chin and wiped the tears from her eyes with my hands. Then, I took both of her hands in mine and walked backwards into the bedroom. "Come, my Dear. You are exhausted." Between her successful performance and the shock she'd just endured, she was overcome. She followed mutely and I pulled back the covers motioning for her to get in bed. Obediently, she lay on her side with her hands under her cheek as I covered her delicately. I did not utter a word as I adjusted her lamp to a lower intensity. Closing her door, I heard her speak. "Angel?"
Immediately, I opened the door again, my heart in my throat and answered breathlessly, "Yes, my Dear?"
She had leaned up upon her arm and looked at me for several endless moments. "Good night."
My heart breaking with disappointment and delight, I whispered, "Bonne nuit, ma cherie." I slowly closed her door for the second time that evening.