Disclaimer: I do not own the books, musical or the movie of Phantom of the Opera.
Author's Note: Here's the second chapter, hope you enjoy. And please do review; I would appreciate it very much if you did. Thank you. I want to thank all of my reviewers and readers! You guys mean the world to me! Thanks for everything! Love you all! Okay onto the story. This chapter does contain adult situations, sort of? So if you're uncomfortable with the idea, then please do not read. I do not like to offend people. Well anyways I want to thank my beta for editing this! It means much to me.
The touch of her angel soft skin against his jolted him back into reality. Something so pure should not have been allowed to have contact with his tainted and scarred soul. He was a freak of nature, a monster. He jerked so suddenly she had lost her balance and went forward. Before she could hit the ground, he caught her. The weight on his arms brought a screaming pain to his still bleeding injuries. He tried not to scream out but the pain was too intense. He let her go and she fell.
He backed away; suddenly afraid of her as if she was one of them. Pain was everywhere. He could taste the metallic red liquid in his dry mouth. The thoughts of early turned on his tattered mind. Frightened like a small child, he limped away as fast as possible. No matter where he turned the pain followed and mocked him. They left evidence behind. His demons would eat him alive.
Crying and frightened, he didn't care as the rain fell and bathed him, he had to get away. Thunder and lightening clashed. In the distance he could hear someone calling him. Maybe it was one of his old captors from all those years ago. He didn't know, but he wasn't going back. He kept onward. The girl a couple of moments ago had been forgotten in his jumbled mind. It wasn't until he felt two small arms embrace him from behind, did he remember. The dainty hands caressed the delicate skin of his abdomen. Soft warm tears trickled down his back, mingling with the falling rain. So much feel, so much of something he could not find words to describe.
He didn't know who it was. Who would hug a monster? Then the girl reappeared into his fog-bitten mind. He turned around and a small replica of the angel from the other night stood before him. She was different it seemed, but at the same time they almost alike.
Glossy brown eyes glanced up at his and locked.
His breath caught in his throat, his heart clenched, his blood flowed with warmth, and his stomach fluttered from the emotions that absorbed him in from those brown orbs.
Compassion.
It was there, and it was directed at him. His soul drank it in and his blood continued to sing. Tears flowed and became one with the rain as did hers.
So many words were spoken in the depths of her eyes, but did not have to be said.
Tear-stained face, she still smiled. She smiled for him. Her arms still attached to his waist. She laid her head against his good shoulder. Not knowing what to do, he half draped his arms around her. It was only when he bent forward that the infections of his injuries decided to cease the moment of an unknown happiness that had sparked him to life. He cursed for the ruined moment.
Clutching his side, he winched. This did not go unnoticed by his brunette haired angel.
"Your wounds! Let's get you to shelter so I can dress your injuries before they get more infected. Why didn't you remind me sooner?" She pulled on one of his arms, trying not to disturb the angry infections that covered themselves with his crusted blood. The wetness touched her hand. He was still bleeding.
He leaned on her for support as they made their way to the little hut that was not too far off into the distance.
Limping, they finally reached the door. It looked abandon. She had the aid bag; her mother had given her when she went to go save the devil's child. She still didn't know his name.
She opened the door and they both stepped inside. It was dark and dusty. It looked as though no one had touched it for decades. Maybe they would be safe for a little while. They couldn't stay here, she knew. His so called master would probably realize his freak hadn't died, but escaped. She just hoped now that they were a couple of hours away, he wouldn't come searching for this man that she intended to take care of, even if it killed her. So many scars, so many wounds, so many thoughts flew into her head. What had this man gone through?
She sat him down, carefully, into an arm chair and went in search of a bed. The hut had only one bedroom, a kitchen, and the sitting room where the man was and that was it. She came back and saw that he was trying to stand. Rushed over to him, Christine pushed him back down into the chair.
"Don't get up! You're hurt. I found a bed for you. We'll try and get you there in one piece, but don't try and get up by yourself, okay?" He just gave her a look.
Apparently even after all that torture he still had his pride. Having help from a woman must have damaged his male pride a bit; well she could have cared less.
She helped him to the bed. There was a little narrow hallway and it was difficult for both of them to fit. She got behind him, supporting his upper arms and walked the rest of the way to the dark room.
It was cold, very cold, and it was still storming outside. She would have to go get some wood and start a fire but first she needed to tend to this man. She felt bad for putting it off for so long. She just hoped that he would be better after she finished, hopefully by morning.
She gently laid him on the bed. Now as she looked down at the wounded man and observed she realized he had severe burns, whip lashes, and various gashes and cuts along with nasty bruises scattered everywhere on his tattered body. As her eyes traveled up to his face, she gasped.
She hadn't noticed but just as surprise came upon her angelic face, he knew. He quickly shot his hand up to protect the right side of his face. All this time he had forgotten about it. He cursed himself.
"No….no, don't do that. It's okay, I won't hurt you, I promise. Don't hide from me, its okay." She soothed him, gently brushing his hair back away from his face with her fingers. The feel of their softness sent chills down his spine and sprang him to life. It felt so good. Then she stopped. He frowned. He saw her look down at him. The fire had burnt him severely. His trousers, well more like rags that covered his legs, or did, were almost gone.
"I'll need you to undress, so I can tend to everything, okay? Even scars from the past. Everything needs a touch of healing." She got up and went to the door, then turned around, her questioning gaze rested upon him.
"You…don't need help…do you?" She had never undressed a man before. He grumbled and reached for his trousers. He got them unbuttoned but couldn't pull them off. He didn't realize she was still in the room. His hand went back to his face.
"It's okay…I'll help you."
He didn't like the idea of a woman undressing him, no less touching him in certain places. It didn't seem right.
Her small dainty fingers found the top of his pants and she slowly slid them off, carefully so as not to disturb his injured legs. She didn't look but Christine knew he wasn't wearing anything underneath.
Now completely naked in from her, an angel, he couldn't decide what he wanted to hide the most; his face or downstairs. He groaned; decisions like these made him feel helpless. She fixed that problem quickly. He didn't have any scars downstairs; he knew, so when she asked he shook his head no. She had found a cloth and placed it over his male part, thankful he could hide himself from her wondering eyes, somewhat.
She went back out and came back a couple of minutes later with a bowl of steaming water and her needed supplies.
She had somehow convinced him not to cover his face for she didn't care which, he felt amazed by, but still a bit uncomfortable.
While she cleansed his wounds, iced his bruises, stitched his injuries, put salve on his aches, dressed and bandaged all his infections, he had watched her the entire time. Never once did she flinch. Her eyes held determination as she battled with his wounds and worked hard to heal them. Never had he seen such a woman, but she had to be just like the rest, angels didn't exist.
The way her fingers would gently brush against his skin or how they tended to his burns excited him. Feelings of something unknown, coursed through his raging body. Warmth started too built up everywhere her touch lingered. It was only when she was done did she notice his state. She gasped and tried to look away.
The cloth hardly covered him now. He groaned again as she got up quickly, the sign she was leaving him in this new found agony.
"Is there anything else you need? I'm going to go find some wood and start a fire. Are you hungry? I can make something for you if you wish?" Her eyes were downcast. She gently pulled the covers up to his waist so she wouldn't have to see something that was not meant to be seen. He needed his privacy.
"Yes." He croaked out. He was hungry but didn't like the idea of her going out into that storm. She could get lost or worse get hurt and it would be his fault. Before she could leave he grasped her arm. She turned around and gave him a confused look.
"Don't go out into the storm. Don't leave me." He pleaded.
She smiled at him and touched his arm.
"Okay, I won't, but we'll need to find some sort of warmth, or we'll both get sick. I'll go fix you something to eat, okay?" He gave her a look. He wasn't convinced.
"I promise…I won't leave."
He nodded and let her hand go. He watched her walk away from him. That feeling arose again and he gritted his teeth. He did not like this. He wished she would hurry. If warmth was her concern he could keep her from the cold, that would not be a problem.
She went into the kitchen and began to hunt for food. For an abandon hut, whoever had lived here before was kind enough to leave some food.
She found some bread and a few vegetables. They would have to work for the time being. They both were a bit moldy. Tomorrow she would go out and find them something else better to starve their hunger. She wondered when the last time he had eaten. He was terribly thin and deathly pale, which did not help that matter, nor did those wounds and old scars from a past she had yet to find out about. She felt sorry for him and had the urge to just hold and comfort the man till all of his demons and pain faded into a past forgotten.
Bread and vegetables in hand, she went back to the bedroom.
He turned his head when he heard footsteps coming down the hall. She walked in with some food. She handed it to his awaiting palms. He gave her another look.
"Don't worry, I'll be fine, you just eat. Do you need some help?" She wanted to throttle him. He should be more focused on himself then her. She was a little hungry but she could manage.
He shook his head and slowly began to eat his fill. He would save her some. He knew she was hungry. He was amazed at the kindness she had shown him. He wanted so bad to believe that he had died and gone to heaven. He must have, because this couldn't be real it had to be fake. Angels didn't want anything to do with disfigured freaks of nature, it was unheard of, a story never told.
She watched him eat and think. He looked so adorable; she just wanted to hug him.
"Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Christine Daae, but you can call me Christine, if you want." He nodded.
"I'm known as Erik." They said nothing afterwards, silence filled the quiet room.
After he finished she took his plate and went back into the kitchen and placed it in the tub. She went back and a piece of bread was thrust into her face. She gave a surprised look. He had saved her some? He was so kind even after all he had been through. She refused but he kept on insisting. She finally took it but only ate half. She fed him the rest though he resisted. He frowned as she went to leave once more. He had seen her shiver.
"Where are you going to sleep?" He asked. He wouldn't allow her to sleep out in the sitting area, it was too cold there, he knew.
"I…I was going to sleep in the sitting room."
"No, sleep here….with me. You'll get sick from the cold." She protested but he reached out and grabbed her, before she could leave. He pulled her down and got her under the covers. He wrapped his arms around her preventing any forms of escape, once again ignoring how they burned at the sudden movement, at the moment, he could have cared less; he had an angel in his arms.
She sighed and rolled over to face him and cuddled closer to his warm body. She didn't have a choice. She had even protested because of his wounds but he would have none of it. He would not allow her to sleep out there. The warmth he provided lulled her to sleep. Unknowest to Christine a pair of smoky emerald eyes watched her throughout the night as she fell into the hands of unconsciousness, promising without knowing, a future that was meant to be.
So did you guys like it, love it, or hate it? Tell me. Please don't forget to review! Thanks!
God Bless
Alaina Ruth