I had to take a break from my longer story and write this oneshot. I hope you like it, I enjoyed writing it greatly and look forward to any responses you might have. It's told in Erik's point of view, and by now, I think you all understand that as much as I'd like to, I do not own any of the characters.
This goes along with the Kay novel, it takes place...well, you'll be able to figure it out. After Christine goes back with a wedding invitation. I promise, content is more than suitable for the rating provided.
The shadows are gone now. I've gone more than 50 years with shadows, ghosts beckoning from dim corners and demons haunting me, and now, deep below the surface of the earth, where sunlight has never truly touched, it is warm.
I'm dying. I know this and have expected it for some time now, but where before it used to fill me with a dim acceptance, today I wish for the strength of will to somehow persevere, somehow live past this, because today, I finally understand what there is to live for.
And it's not to be. If I sleep the clock around and see tomorrow, I know it will be a miracle, and though I've reconciled myself to the idea of God, I doubt I deserve another miracle.
I've already had one, you see, and I didn't deserve that, either.
I was convinced yesterday would be my last day on earth, and when I woke, I cursed myself for being still confined to an aching, mortal body. I ignored breakfast, ignored Nadir entirely until he came into my room and announced I had a guest.
She had returned, and she rushed to my side, kissed my broken face and refused to let me go. We cried, our tears mingling and our kisses salty, and she told me how she loved me. For the first time, I believed something I was told without question. She wore no engagement ring, no wedding ban, and the invitation she had said she would bring lay in a crumpled heap by the fireplace.
Nadir stood there, utterly transfixed, and if I hadn't been so astounded myself, I might have laughed at the expression on his face.
That was nothing compared to the look we both had when she turned to him, her pale face looking more serene than I had ever seen it, save when she was asleep, and asked him to stand as her witness before God.
My God, she really intended to marry me! She whispered vows that I could barely hear but somehow understood, and I held her to me.
"I have always loved you," I said softly.
"I know," she said, and began to cry again. I reached into my dressing gown pocket and removed the ring I had kept with me at all times, and slid it onto her finger. I kissed her once more, and she took my hand and led me into her old sleeping room, closing the door between Nadir and us.
"I can't believe you came back," I said, unwilling to let her go for a moment.
"I made you a promise," she said, "and I couldn't break another one. I'm so sorry."
"It's all forgotten," I replied, and she kissed me again. I'd had more human contact in the last fifteen minutes than I'd known in my entire life, and I finally understood why it was so important.
Now, lying here, with her asleep beside me, I find myself unwilling to fall asleep, because I know there's the chance it might be my last time. I can't bear to let her go yet, not now, not the woman I'd been married to for so long in my heart.
She stirs, and I place a hand on her dark curls, gently playing with her hair as I gaze at her. In the lamplight, she is so beautiful.
I've made my peace with God. I've known He was there all along, admitted it in moments of anger, and now I understand the benevolent side of Him, too. I can embrace that now.
Just a moment longer! But I know by the waning of the lamp that the hours are passing, and soon, I shall, too. My heart is tired, today, it has almost burst with the influx of emotions I had never thought possible. How had I thought I knew so much of the world when I had never known this?
I started to cry, then, something I had never really done until Christine, not since I was much younger, because I hated the idea of leaving her.
The noise woke her, and she looked at me, understanding without words, and kissed me, held me close to her, and told me that every moment was worth it.
"It doesn't matter," she said gently. "Time cannot separate us any more than the distance we have been apart these weeks. I love you, and I always will."
"I love you too, angel," I said gently, and settled her back into my arms, where we held one another and she slowly drifted back to sleep.
I felt my eyelids grow heavy, and I gently extinguished the lamp, letting warmth and that strange feeling of complete, utter peace I had known these hours wash over me.
"Goodnight, my angel."