AN: Happy New Year's Day, guys! I hope this next chapter's to your liking, since I ventured outside my normal style this time. Reward me with a review? (Puppy dog eyes?)
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 34
The names were flowing script, taking up pads of legal paper. On his desk he looked them over as he typed up the names. Constance Peterson. Meaghan Borges. He didn't cross out the male names, but wasn't bothering to type those into his spreadsheet just yet. Angela Bryce. Carlotta Piangi.
All these names were linked to Erik Destler. They were all in his classes in the past semester, had musical backgrounds. More importantly, they were all women. Caroline Shih. Alicia Torres. Samantha Woods. He stopped typing for a moment, and rubbed his tire eyes. He picked up a legal pad with his free hand, and felt for the clipping he'd hidden there.
There was a theory to be tested now, a little puzzle to be solved before he could find Erik Destler. He was very glad to know his own aptitude at puzzles. This one, he assured himself, could be cracked. And one of the girls on this list would hold the key. Marcia Brown. Annie Shreeve. Christine Daae.
One of them had the answer he was desperately after. With a sigh, he returned to his typing. Lucy Connor. Linda Donovan.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. He felt her smile against his skin, then pull away slightly. She looked at him with nothing but innocent adoration. "I love you." Those words were redemption and trust, not merely affection. The meaning had never been innate, but Erik had finally begun to understand that a little now. Christine was teaching him more than either of them had realized.
I'm sorry. I love you. Simple words, but once Erik uttered them everything felt changed. After she'd forgiven him, kissed his injured cheek without fear, Erik felt something slowly leaving him. And as far back and as he could remember, the dread he felt in his muddied heart was always there, making its presence known. Loss was a pain he'd learned to live with, as was loneliness, but as he held her close and pressed his lips softly to her collarbone, none of that darkness could be felt. He wasn't afraid of her as he nipped at the soft skin of her throat, as he made his desire known. He just wanted her to understand, once and for all. He loved all of her, and Christine needed to know that now that they'd been reunited.
And to his amazement, she didn't push him away as he'd always feared. Instead, she seemed to melt away into his touch and she gave a little sigh as he ran his fingers across the side of her face and through her hair. Her responsiveness made him bolder, less nervous of her rejection than of what wonderful moment they might miss if he pulled away now.
Christine felt her heart and it seemed to beat painfully out of her chest when she felt the feathery caress of his lips on her skin. There was a terrible longing within that tenderness, she was certain of it, but there was more to his affection than loneliness. There was love, and hope for some kind of miracle to pass over them at this moment. She felt this clearly, because it was her own hope and as well.
She brought her hands to rest around his shoulder blades. Dear God, she prayed and as he picked her up and set her on his bed, God, please let me stay with him. He hovered only inches from her face, his eyes searching her own. Though he was not afraid of her, he was timidly seeking an answer to his unasked question. With a small smile she reached out a hand to cup his cheek gently. He took it as encouragement, and bent down to kiss her. She closed her eyes and felt one of his hands searching for her free one. He laced his fingers through it and held it.
Dear God, let me be his light. Let me set him free...
Thoughts drifted away as the kiss deepened, and all she could sense was Erik. She smelled the soft cologne still hanging on his clothes, and felt the muscles of his arms. And somewhere, in the back of her mind, she heard him calling her name with dulcet tones, as if a harsh one could shatter her. She held him close, blushing at her boldness, but knew that he needed to understand it was all right, that she wanted this love.
"Erik," she whispered in a tone that nearly broke his heart. Their noses touched, and as she looked up at him, Christine nodded her head slowly. "Let me be with you."
"Oh, Christine..." He was relieved, she knew, and in love. From now on, she knew this would not be his room, locked away and inaccessible. The barrier between them was coming down as she felt herself -- her only self -- break with love for him.
Words failed them both at this moment. It was a new music they were creating together, new to them but ancient as man. It was a wordless melody setting aflame parts of their soul that they'd never known to exist before, and now only existed for each other. She felt secure at this moment, fingers still laced in his and as they played this sacred song together, and Erik felt everything he'd never even realized he missed. For those feelings, all of him, breath and body and soul, were for her.
And as the tune waned and wafted into the silence of their sleep, he held her close to him and touched his lips to hers once more. The music of the night had never been so alive in him before, as he drifted off and let the dream begin...
"That's odd," Nadir remarked, hanging up the receiver of their phone. Antoinette looked up from her dishes and gave him a curious look.
"What is it, Nadir?"
"I've been transferred to Erik's voicemail all night tonight. I'm wondering if anything is wrong over at his apartment." He really was very puzzled. Erik never had his phone turned off, much less missed his calls! He was about to ask his wife's opinion when he realized she was looking at him with a very amused expression on her face. "Antoinette, do you know why his phone is off?" The wily woman he knew and loved was very astute, he'd recently discovered, and he worried there might be more than he knew about Erik's behavior. His suspicion, however, only made her shake her head, mirth still intact.
"No, no," she reassured him and as she wiped her hands with a towel. "I know as much as you do...but I have an inkling." Her little smile seemed to be growing more smug at his clueless expression.
"An inkling?" He repeated her words stupidly, trying to figure out what she meant. "What could Erik possibly be doing that would make him want to turn his phone off?"
At this Mrs. Giry blushed, a very rare thing for her to do. "Oh, really, Nadir. And you call yourself a detective," she scolded sweetly. And at this Nadir's eyes widened considerably, and the color rose to his own cheeks. With a little start he turned away.
"Well, then, I'm sure he's completely recovered..." He cleared his throat a little too loudly, and lowered his eyes. "I'll be reading in the den." His schoolboyish behavior elicited a giggle from Mrs. Giry. It was very rare for Nadir to lose his composure and blush, and she greatly enjoyed watching him when it did.
She didn't know how long she'd slept, but Erik was still by her side when she opened her eyes. One arm supplying her a pillow, and the other cradling her close, he still managed to make her feel precious even as he slept. Her hands were wrapped around his shoulders, holding him fast. She stretched a little, but stopped as the slight ache under her belly awakened. She winced a little, but her smile never faltered.
Her hands stroked his soft black hair, then lightly touched his features. Is this, she laughed softly to herself, what lovers do? Her hands reached down to trace his shoulders at the blades, then felt the sharp ridges just below. His smooth skin felt marred there, and her fingers brushed over it time and again trying to feel the entire length of this mark. She was so interested that she didn't see Erik staring at her.
"It's a scar, Christine." He startled her, and looked deeply into her eyes when he had her attention. "How are you feeling?"
She smiled lightly. "I'm fine, really. Just a little sore." Her smile faded, though, as she pressed her hand to his shoulder once more. "Erik, why do you have a scar here?" He looked away as he usually did, but Christine would not allow it. Her other hand cupped his cheek, making him meet her gaze. "Erik?"
"It's a reminder of my past. My father --" He couldn't continue any longer. He finally broke eye contact. "Please don't ask anymore, Christine." Though he loved her, and though his heart was beating now for her, the memories of those terrible moments with his father were horrible to dredge up.
At his saddened expression, she could not deny his request. With a slight whimper from the small pain, Christine sat up, wrapping a sheet around herself. "All right, I won't ask." Instead she pressed down on his shoulder suddenly, making him lose his balance. He fell face down on the bed, exposing his back to her.
She gasped, looking at the dark scar that began at the bottom of his left shoulder blade and ended nearly at his waist. Unlike the nearly invisible white scar by his hairline this one was tanned, nearly brown in contrast to his pale skin. This one had been inflicted violently, not surgically, and left to heal on its own, or by a child's crude care. Knowing how he'd hurt then, Christine's heart ached now.
"A belt," he whispered hoarsely. "Please don't look." She knew the embarrassment behind those words very well, and she immediately touched her own throat. It hadn't been so long ago that she had been this afraid to let him see. It hadn't been so very long ago that she'd been afraid that he might turn away, and knowing this made her ache more than any physical pain could.
She bent over gently, and pressed a soft kiss upon the mark. Then another, and another. Her lips touched the mark without hesitation, making him gasp. Her fingers traveled its length in a caress, and he called her name softly.
"I can't be afraid of what I love," she whispered as she rested her head between his shoulder blades. "Not of your past, and certainly not of your body."
He turned so that she was now settled on his chest, and looked at her. "How is it you...?" He was silenced with a kiss, which she hoped would answer everything.
You...just you...one by one, you wash away all of my mud covered anxieties. Erik understood her answer, and as they came together again, felt things he'd never even dreamed for her. All of it was love.
"The first three hours of night were almost spent
The time that every star shines down on us
When Love appeared to me so suddenly
That I still shudder at the memory.
Joyous Love seemed to me, the while he held
My heart within his hands, and in his arms
My lady lay asleep wrapped in a veil.
He woke her then and trembling and obedient
She ate that burning heart out of his hand;
Weeping I saw him then depart from me."
--Dante
AN: Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks to my wonderful editor, Cymbidium, for all of her patience and help, and to the diehard readers who are sticking with me to the end. I really appreciate it!
