AN: Yay, next chapter up! Thanks Cymbidium, for all the help! And to all you reviewers- thank you from the bottom of my heart. I get a happy, healthy lil high from reading your comments, and need my buzz. Please continue to help me out!
Disclaimer: I got soul and little else.
Ch 29
He brought her hand to his mouth, and felt the warm skin under his lips.
"Erik?"
He heard her nervous voice, and watched her eyes dart over his face.
"Stay with me tonight," he murmured. "Don't leave."
She watched him, not knowing what to do or say quite yet. What was the next natural progression in their relationship? They'd lived so closely, but were they...
His hand lifted itself to trace the features of her face, making her thoughts stand still. He traced the curve of her cheekbone, down to her jaw, and then to her lips with long, feathery strokes. She closed her eyes to capture the fleeting feel of his touch. He touched her lightly without hesitation now, as if to commit to memory each and every sensation of her softness and warmth against his fingers. Then he kissed her gently, and she decided. She settled into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and closing the gap between them. She held fast to him, more afraid of letting go than of what might happen now.
He knew she was willing to be with him, and he knew that he'd never hold her like this again. And yet, it was this same knowledge that forced him to deny himself. Instead, he rose a little and laid her down beside him. He pulled away for a moment to watch her, painting her portrait in his mind. Her beautiful chocolate locks fell around the blood red silk sheets, and her skin seemed to glow ethereal. With a hand he smoothed back a lock of her hair, watching her close her eyes to revel in his touch was almost too much for him to bear. He wanted her more than she would ever know, even though he wanted nothing more now than to show her what he was feeling was real...but he knew what Nadir had said was right. She knew nothing, and after she was taken away Christine would hate him. No, he could not hurt her.
"Erik?" she called to him, waking him from his trance. She raised her head a little, brushing her forehead against his cheek. "If you wanted to..."
"Christine..." He spoke as if he begged. He laid down next to her and placed a hand at her throat, stroking it gently. "Christine, will you talk to me?"
She was caught off guard, both by the manner of his request and the cool touch of his hand. She turned slightly to face him. "About what?"
"Anything," he answered. "Your childhood, your memories...anything. Just...let me fall asleep hearing your voice."
"Shall I sing for you, then?"
"No. I want to listen to you." He twirled a curl around a finger. "I don't want to hear Gounod or Mozart. Just you."
What could she say to that? What could she do, other than bite her lip a moment before speaking? "I've dreamed of being a singer since I was a child. My father loved opera, and he even joked about taking me to Paris to perform."
"It wasn't a joke, I'm sure," Erik said quietly, looking at her. "You have great talent, Christine."
She smiled shyly and looked away, resuming her story. "I lived in an old house by the sea, with Mama Valerius and father."
"And your birth mother?"
"I never met her. She died giving birth to me." She looked at his somber face and smiled. "It's all right, Erik. Mama Valerius took wonderful care of me, and treated me like a mother. I never had a reason to feel upset as a child. Only..."
"Only...?"
"I believe my mother had a beautiful voice. She was my father's muse, you know. And I think, perhaps, that carving on my father's violin is the only portrait I have of her."
"That explains why you were so desperate to acquire it." He remembered her pleas, and her ultimate escape, and now he understood. That violin he'd had refurbished was precious to her because it reminded her of both parents.
"Yes, my father used to play for hours in that cottage by the sea. But it wasn't until Raoul came along that our family truly came together." Christine knew that name was a sore spot for Erik, but she took his hand in reassurance. "I'd never had a friend my age before him. We lived somewhat away from the nearest town, and all I had were father and Mama Valerius. Raoul was the only little boy who would gladly ride his bike for miles just to learn to play the violin and play with me."
"You loved him," was all Erik could say. How could she not?
"As much as a child can," she admitted. "I loved him like I loved those carefree afternoons at the beach, or picnics in the attic -- as memories that I can't be parted with." She watched as he looked away a moment, but with her hand at his cheek she drew him back to her. "I'm not a child anymore, Erik. I know these are all just memories of my childhood and nothing more."
"And I?" he asked quietly. "Will I just become a memory and nothing more to you someday?" He felt her shift in the bed and watched her hover over him before setting her head on his chest.
"I'll remember everything about you, Erik, but you could never become just a memory." Her heart was beating madly, and she had to look away. "My love for my childhood is different from my love for you."
"Christine..." The bittersweet words made him feel as if he'd endured his entire cruel life just to die after hearing those words. It had been worth it, he decided.
"Erik," she murmured into his shirt, "I love you."
"Antoinette, where is the key to Erik's apartment?" Nadir dropped his coat on a chair and turned to see his wife stand.
"Can you not greet your wife a little more politely?" Mrs. Giry frowned a little. Nadir went to her and kissed her cheek softly.
"I'm sorry, but I need that key."
"Whatever for?" Mrs. Giry grew a little alarmed at her husband's urgency. He seemed very on edge about something. "Would you like to have some dinner first? It's really very late and..."
"No, I'm sorry, Antoinette, but I can't rest until I have that key." His eyes met hers, making his intent known. He was going into Erik's home uninvited.
"Do not do this, Nadir." She spoke quietly and slowly, as if to a child who could not comprehend what he was going to do. "Erik doesn't like us to intrude..."
"I've told him I intend to visit him. He knows he can't stop me." Nadir moved to the key hook by the kitchen counter and picked up her set. "Is it on here?"
"Why are you doing this, Nadir? What's the matter?" She was growing more alarmed by his plan and was quite startled when he slammed his palm down on the countertop.
"Did you know, Antoinette?" He turned to look at her, but was not angry. His eyes were tired, filled with a kind of sadness she could not fathom. "Did you know that Christine Daae is still alive...and that she's been living with him?"
Antoinette sighed. How much she knew didn't matter now. She'd had an inkling, but now she was certain, and knew what Nadir wanted to do. She turned and opened the china cabinet, pulling out a little rag doll. Fishing in the petticoat pocket, she produced the key. She placed it gently on the counter for him, and turned to leave. "For what it's worth, I think he loves her."
"It's not about him...it's about this girl. I don't think it possible for her to genuinely love him. I don't think he's told her everything."
"Christine, how can you say that?" Erik whispered hoarsely. He sat up, pulling her with him. "How can you love me, when you don't know me?"
Christine still gripped his shirt, her forehead bumping against his chest. "Because I do know you." She looked up at him. "I know your anger, and I know your cruelty...and I know your kindness and beauty." She traced his cheek with her hand. "I love you, because you are my angel of music."
He caught her hand, puzzled. "What?"
"My father spoke of an angel of music who would come to me in my time of need." She tilted her head up to his ear. "You saved me, Erik. You're the angel I was waiting for."
There was a time when that would have made him the happiest of men, but that time had passed. Now, he knew exactly what Nadir had spoken of. She wasn't looking at him as a man, but as an angel, fulfilling a prophecy of her sweet childhood. Now he knew what had to happen, and he felt something breaking quickly. He had not been this fragile when he'd lived in darkness, or when his parents had left this world, but everything was shattering inside him now.
In an instant he had his arms wrapped around her. He held her fast, refusing to let her twist around to see his expression.
"Erik?" she questioned. He sighed, trying to regain his composure, but failed. He felt her hands wrap themselves around him, and felt the small smile on her lips. "Erik, it's all right. I'm not leaving you."
She held him fast, and felt the shivering of his body. Those words still cause you to feel those unshed tears... She'd hold him until they both fell asleep, talking about her family now and then.
Christine did not feel the slight trickle of a few stray tears as they slid down his perfect cheek.
Nadir sat on the couch staring into the cup of coffee he'd brewed for himself. Time was ticking by quickly, and he knew what he'd have to do soon. He was certain his wife wouldn't mind having a guest, at least until he could return the girl to her normal life again. Perhaps Antoinette would even enjoy the company.
He sighed, leaning back. When had everything become such a mess for all of them? And Erik...could things ever go back to their sort of normal after this? Nadir was unsure of everything, but there was no other choice in his mind -- the girl had to be made to see reality...and then, she might never forgive Erik for what he had done to her.
Was it kind of me, then, to let him live this long alone?
Erik opened his eyes and turned to look at the alarm clock. It glared the time at him: 6AM. Morning, and his time was ending. He turned, and saw Christine slumbering next to him, one of his arms held protectively in hers. On her face there was no fear or disgust, but a peace that comes from pleasant dreams.
She'd spoken of her childhood, of her dreams and loves, and he'd listened and carved her words into his heart. He couldn't remember when they'd fallen asleep, but she must have kept talking the entire time because he could remember the lilt of her voice just as he'd closed his eyes. Christine must have then decided to lie next to him, to stay together a little longer. He smiled only a little and ran a hand softly over her hair, careful not to wake her. This...this is enough, he decided, this is all I'll take from you.
He carefully untangled himself from where he lay next to her and slipped away. There was something he had to prepare before his detective came.
Christine opened her eyes, and sat up. It took a moment for her to remember she was in Erik's room, and to realize that Erik wasn't in the room anymore. She stood and walked out of the room, looking for him. "Erik?" She turned into her room, but he wasn't there. "Erik, where are you?" He didn't respond, making her wonder. She quickly entered the den and sighed in relief when she saw him setting down a breakfast tray on the coffee table.
"I thought you were still sleeping," Erik said quietly. He thought quickly. There wouldn't be enough time to stir in the...
"Oh, I think I must have smelled breakfast," she beamed.
He nodded his head and walked past her. "I left something in my room, I'll be right back."
"All right..." She observed his rushed manner. Was he embarrassed about their time together last night? She blushed a little, and decided to wait until he came back before beginning to eat.
In his room Erik pulled out a little bottle from his dresser drawer, then a handkerchief. He stuffed both into his pants pocket, then rested his hands against the dresser. Christine... he squeezed his eyes shut, forbidding the tears to fall, I won't keep you. Not like this.
He entered the den just in time to hear the lock of the front door click. He watched as Christine's face changed to surprise and she turned to the door. He quickly went to her and took hold of her hand, getting her attention.
"Erik..." She looked into his face with worry. "Erik, who's at the door?"
"Do you remember last night?" he asked softly, his other hand reaching into his pocket. He slipped the handkerchief out slowly.
"Erik..." She heard the door open, and turned away. He pulled her a step closer, refusing to be ignored as the detective entered.
"Do you still want to sing in Paris?" Erik asked, a little louder this time. His other hand felt the damp cloth.
"I...yes.." She looked at him as if he were losing his mind, and when he dropped her hand she quickly turned to see their guest. "Who are..."
Christine could not finish her question. Erik brought the cloth over her mouth and nose with one hand, and the other wrapped itself around her waist. "I want to see you sing in Paris, too." He felt her struggle and try to cry out as she looked at him wide-eyed. "Let's meet again, in Paris," he whispered to her hoarsely as she went slack.
He wanted to lift her into his arms, but Erik was too late. Nadir picked her up gently, wary of the stunned Erik. "I'll take her from here." He moved away slowly as Erik nodded dumbly. He looked down at the girl's expressionless face. It's all right, Miss Daae, you're going to be fine now...
"Wait." Nadir stopped in his tracks, and watched as his ward walked to them. He flinched in disapproval as Erik bent his head to look at her once more.
"I won't touch her, Daroga." Erik glared at him a moment longer before turning back to look at her. Christine was at peace now, looking so frail and beautiful. He bent a little closer, just until he could hear her breathing.
Nadir watched him with pity and anger at turns. How could he do this to a girl like her? How had he learned compassion? It all hurt to think about now, but he knew his greater duty was towards Christine right now.
"...you." Nadir barely heard the last word, but the lament behind it touched his heart. As Erik moved away, Nadir decided not to extend the boy's anguish. As quietly as he'd entered the apartment, he and Christine left it.
Christine felt the warm breath of another person on her cheek, and felt someone's gaze on her. But for whatever reason, she could not will herself to even open her eyes. Instead, she felt her mind going numb. Then she heard those words. Who, she wondered before the darkness claimed her, who says these words with so much sorrow?
'Christine, I love you...'
AN: Sad...this made me really, really sad...so please review and let me know what you thought...otherwise I'll get even more sad and not write for a while :(
