Chapter 14

Erik stared across the lake, a sort of heaviness filling him that made him not want to move. He watched Christine's mist shrouded figure glide across the water like a ghost, and vaguely registered that he had no way of getting his gondola back.

His eyes followed Christine until she disappeared up the hallway, and finally he looked down to see he had been digging his fingernails into his hand until it bled. Erik stared unseeingly at his bloody nails.

Why in the world had he told Christine he loved her? What had he been thinking? Especially after the way he had acted towards her. He had abused that power of music he held over her, and now she would hate him. She would never love him. Erik let his hopelessness and pain flood his mind, and felt as if it were ripping up his insides.

He raked his fingernails down his face, as if by creating physical pain he could stop the pain inside of him. He felt his mask fall to the ground and a sort of wetness on his face which was caused by the blood on his hands.

What was I thinking? Erik stared incomprehensively at his bloody hand. I can't make Christine love me. I won't ever know why she looked at me with that horrible sadness in her eyes. And when we return from this time, if we ever do, we will just go on through life as if nothing ever happened, two strangers with a strange experience.

Erik stared at his bleeding hand in hopelessness and growing contempt. Christine would never completely know how she had hurt him. And shouldn't she? How come she could escape from all the pain she had caused without even a scrape? Erik's sadness turned to anger.

Never did he consider that Christine could be feeling any pain herself. Never did he think that anger fueled by sadness and disappointment could be a very dangerous emotion indeed.

Erik stepped down to the lake's edge and splashed water on his face, to remove the blood, and gingerly washed his hand. Feeling suddenly tired, he flung himself down into a large chair by his organ and fell asleep.

Christine was standing in front of Erik, holding his hand in hers. She lifted it to her lips and held it there, a sort of wistful sadness in her eyes, and Erik felt as though he would burst. Why was she doing this? Her lips seemed to brand his knuckles, and Erik thought, Oh God, let her release me from this torture. And yet he prayed at the same time that she would never let go.

Suddenly, Raoul appeared at Christine's side. Erik was startled. Where had he come from? For a moment, Erik felt crushed, but then that awful hope struck again. What did Raoul matter? He had not traveled through time with Erik and Christine. He didn't share their bond of time, of music. He didn't matter at all.

And so why was Christine looking back and forth at both with a confused look on her face? Erik reached out for Christine and meant to tell her how Raoul didn't matter; he didn't love her like he, Erik, did…

Erik woke up with a jolt. He had a crick in his neck from sleeping sitting up, and his white mask leered up at him from the floor where he had left it. Erik felt disoriented and claustrophobic, and as though he still were reaching out for Christine.

Stiffly standing, Erik looked around for his gondola, and then remembered that Christine had selfishly left it at the other side of the lake. He curled his hands into fists at his sides, and then jumped at the pressure on his newly-scabbed cut. Erik gazed down at the source of his pain, frustration and grief building in him until it bubbled up his throat and soared out of his mouth in one great echoing cry.

Christine sat straight up in her bed. She had heard that cry, for it had rolled across the lake and up the hallway and into her room. Christine nervously began to dress. Was Erik planning on torturing her with is voice even still? Luckily, the next-to-last dress rehearsal had been set for the next day, and Christine had the entire day today to relax. She planned to spend this relaxing away from Erik.

Christine slowly ran her hands down her face, as if searching for a difference. She had all of her soul now, and yet she didn't feel any completion. She had expected to be a different person, one who knew exactly who they were and what they were doing, and was disappointed that she still felt confused, that she didn't have any more answers than she did two days before.

Why were her only thoughts focusing on Erik and that kiss? Christine had replayed it so many times in her brain that now it seemed to have fused with the dark blanket of memory that way Erik singing to her, as if Erik's kiss had rescued her from that torturing menace of a voice. Christine couldn't even think of what time had meant her to fix. Erik's lips descended over hers again… And again… And again…

Erik bent and picked up his mask and crushed it on his face. Now he was not only fueled by anger, but hunger, too, and the cause of both was Christine. Erik slowly shed his shirt and took off his mask and held it in his hand, and waded into the freezing lake water. He grit his teeth and waded deeper. Damn her! This was all her fault. If anything, she should be the one swimming across a freezing lake to get a stupid gondola. Suddenly, Erik had a vibrant mental picture of Christine with her clothes soaking, swimming across his lake. He blinked rapidly and cursed, got a mouthful of water, and felt even angrier at Christine.

Finally, Erik reached the other side and leapt out of the water, jumping up and down and rubbing himself, beginning to get warm again. His chest and arms felt numb, his legs soaked, but he squared his shoulders, crammed his mask back on his face, and started up the hallway to Christine's room. She deserved to know all the trouble she had caused. Erik thought with glee that him being shirtless would probably make Christine uncomfortable, and decided that it would be nice to be the calm one for a change.

Christine watched in surprise as Erik flung open the mirror and stepped into her dormitory. He stood there, in front of the open mirror, dripping wet, a sort of challenge in his eyes. Christine felt herself beginning to blush. A small water droplet trickled down Erik's strong, bare chest and glittered in the faint light. She tried not to watch its progress.

Erik noticed Christine's awkwardness with satisfaction. "This is all your fault," he said pleasantly, and took a step towards her. She took a step backwards. "Shouldn't you be asking me what your fault is, not backing away?" Erik said, and smiled and took another step towards her. She took another step backwards.

"Fine. Don't ask. I'm going to tell you anyways." Another step forwards. Christine by now was backed against the wall behind her, the look on her face a cross between relief and fear.

"In your rush to get away from me yesterday…" Erik grinned and took another step forwards. "You took my gondola across my lake and forgot to bring it back. I had to swim across the entire freezing lake to get my damn gondola back because of you." Erik took another step forwards and put one hand on either side of the wall beside Christine, so that she was trapped between his body and the wall. He smiled wickedly down at her. "So… How's your day been going?"

Christine tried to dart away from Erik and underneath his arm, but that only made him move in closer to her. His chest brushed against hers and Christine suddenly felt short of breath. She blushed even more. "You're blushing," Erik said sarcastically. He moved in even closer, and she could feel his wet pant leg resting against hers.

Suddenly panicked, Christine put her hands on Erik's chest and pushed hard. He took a step away from her and now it was his turn to look surprised. Christine then realized her hands were still resting against Erik's chest, and pulled them away as if burned. "Stop," she said faintly.

"Stop what!" replied Erik. He grinned again. "I wasn't doing anything. You're the one who decided to steal my gondola and leave me stranded." He stepped up close to her again, and flirtatiously ran his finger down her arm. "Did you want me stranded…?" he said huskily.

Christine felt weak. Every time Erik touched her, she felt like she had received an electric shock. "Why are you doing this?" she choked out. "Do you… do you have different personalities or something!" Erik became stiff. Christine felt a bit more confident. "I mean, I'm sorry I took your gondola, that wasn't very… nice of me… but you know, you… um…"

"I what!" Erik snapped.

"Well… you… You kissed me! And you said you loved me! I—"

Erik felt a sort of wrenching inside him. It had been nice, pretending he didn't care what Christine thought. But now he knew that he cared very much about what Christine thought. And that was obviously that he was a fool. She didn't believe him.

"You don't think I meant it," he said flatly.

"Well, yes, I- You- And now you're flirting with me…." Christine stared up at him.

"That bothers you? I, for one, rather liked it, but…" Erik's voice grew harsh. "But if you'd like me to go back to kissing you, I gladly will. In fact…" He looked down at her upturned face and wrapped his arms around her. Christine struggled against him but Erik pulled her closer. He bent his head down and forced his lips down over hers. She gave a little squeak and slowly sunk into him, her hands still resting against his chest. Erik registered for a moment that Christine wasn't pulling away from him, and then was hit by such a wave of longing that he couldn't think. He felt Christine's hands move up his back and pushed her against the wall, his lips devouring hers.

Christine couldn't move. Erik was a very good kisser; a part of her mind registered dreamily. Aloud, she sighed, "This must be what time wanted me to fix…"

"What?" Erik murmured, pressing kisses over Christine's eyelids.

"Nothing…" she sighed, and rested her head on Erik's shoulder while he kissed her hair. But maybe, she thought, Maybe it was everything.