Suddenly, without warning, he collapsed upon her, the white rose falling from her grasp onto the soft sheets she was sitting on. He was trembling again, his breath coming out raspy, and his cheek feeling cold against her neck. "E-Erik?" she murmured, afraid. She felt him close his eyes, felt him! As if she knew all of his movements without having to look upon him fully, as if already she understood more of him than anyone could have ever known. He seemed so big all of a sudden, so overwhelming large against her small frame, like a shadow that was enveloping her, trying to devour her heart. She shivered in spite of herself.
"Oh Meg!" he breathed out in despair. He was lost, running through the dark chasms of his mind, trying once again to find her light. He clung to her body, like an anchor, like a beacon, his only hope for returning to the surface. Where had this all come from? Meg began to wonder at it, he had seemed so genuine...normal even. Why was he now, all of a sudden, in so much pain? Her body reacted quickly though, blocking out all other thought. She closed her own arms around him, pressing him to her, feeding his icy grasp with her warmth. It didn't matter why he was in such anguish. All that mattered was that she was there to comfort him, to hold him as he yearned for something to hold on to. To be the woman that Christine never was. Meg felt a tearing in her own heart. Finally she let herself admit, she cared for him, this man, this thing at her side. She had wanted to find him herself, wanted to see with her own eyes that which drove brave men away with fear and terror. She had wanted to stare into the cold depths of this phantom and wrench him from the darkness that tried to consume his heart.
Now here she was, holding him to the world as he stumbled over the edge of it.
There was a silence about the room, and if one happened to be walking by, one would see two figures, huddled close together in complete silence and stillness, like a picture. It may have seemed as if they were both asleep or frozen in time, but that would have been a wrong assumption. What they both truly felt at that moment was profoundly different, an exchange was taking place. A man begging for warmth and a woman giving her all to him through her embrace. A child's heart, crying out for someone to protect him, and her, with her soft arms, shielding his heart.
Meg felt as if she could have stayed like that forever, her slim arms wrapped around this large shadow, and the feeling of his body pressed against hers, innocent and resting. He smelled of candles and curtains, remnants of the opera house that had been his home, no, his domain. Presently, her hand moved from his back, snaking upwards until she reached his soft hair. It filled her slender fingers, each strand like an old friend, belonging in her grasp. Then she stroked it softly, her own hair tickling her chin as she leaned towards his face.
She wanted to speak, but there were no words she could say, nothing she could ask that would have yielded a proper answer from him now. The only way she could communicate with him was through movements and murmurs. But he himself broke the silence between them, and his voice filled the room with deafening authority, though he was only whispering her name.
"Meg..." he began, his voice like velvet. "Meg, forgive me. I do not understand it, I saw you sitting there near the window as the moonlight bathed you in a lonely glow, and I grew afraid! I was terribly frightened as you turned your golden head and smiled at me and took my rose. Were you an illusion? An angel come to greet me as I lay dying? For surely the sudden grip on my heart meant death. I was afraid you would fade away or be stolen by the night that surrounds us, so I had to come to you, to feel you for myself and see that you were really there." He stopped and sighed deeply. "You are so different," he murmured again, "I cannot bear to see you in the nighttime like this, you do not embrace it as Christine did, you shy from it, like it would swallow you up and take you away..."
"I'm not going anywhere," Meg whispered into his ear, trying to reassure him. Christine would have continued to hold him, but Meg suddenly pushed him away, tenderly. Her small arms held him fast and she looked straight into his eyes. "Erik, I will not leave you. Such suffering! Never again will you be alone."
She had tried to say the right words, but she felt as if whatever she was saying to him now would not get through. He looked down at the ground, muttering, "But she...but she left...she left me all alone..." he seemed to be remembering something from the past, his mind somewhere else now. "I asked her to go, to leave me alone to hide away...she left with him, only once glancing back at me...I told her to, but she really left..." his voice trailed off as he continued to stare at the floor. Meg finally let go of him and he sank down on his knees.
"Christine!" he whispered into the darkness. The only light came from the moon outside. Meg's heart felt as if it were slowly being crushed by a terrible weight. It beat heavily like a drum, the rhythm of a foreboding macabre, her own melody playing out. He still loved her, Christine was haunting him even now. Meg shook her head. Of course he still loved her, it had only been yesterday that he had held her in his arms, singing their enthralling duet above the breathless audience. Still, it hurt to realize this.
Wordlessly, Meg rose from her seat and turned on the oil lamp that was hanging on the wall. Now the room shown with a warm yellow glow, and the flame flickered softly like candlelight. The light seemed only to drive Erik further into despair, though Meg had hoped that it would have a calming affect. She eyed him worriedly and rushed to his side once again, to hold him. Again his cheeks were damp with the trail of new tears, and his eyes were red and watery. He seemed to be recoiling from her, ashamed of his behavior. "Don't...don't look at me," he begged in a cracked voice.
Erik was so confused, so torn in his mind. His Angel of Music continued to haunt his thoughts, her voice searing his mind. He saw her beautiful face, her doll-like eyes and pink lips. He saw her singing for him beneath the opera house in his catacombs, and he saw her succumbing to his seduction, her innocent eyes wide with fear and awe. She had been afraid of him, but even more so, she had been drawn to him. He could see the want in her eyes, the clear desire they held, and he had been exhilarated at the promise. He remembered the feeling of her soft, slender throat in his rasping hands, and the smell of her thick ringlets of hair as he held her close, singing gently into her ear so that only she would know what he was saying.
But she was gone.
That dream, that beauty had fled away, and he was only left with a burning in his heart. The promise of companionship and love she represented was gone, snuffed out like a candle. And yet her image lingered in his mind, her voice whispered sweetly in his ears, and her scent stayed with him, tormenting him. She was everywhere still, and he wanted to grasp her, but she was gone, fading away like early mist. He sank deeper and deeper into despair, forgetting the way back. The memory of Christine was slowly dragging him down, and he was being carried away, helplessly.
Suddenly he felt arms surrounding him, clutching him tightly as if trying to stop him from moving away. It wasn't so much the physical contact as the mental one that shook him. He had forgotten where he was, but now her embrace, yet again, was pulling him out of the darkness. "Meg..." he whispered wordlessly. Though he had not voiced her name, for some reason, she reacted as if she had heard him.
Meg had heard something, like a faint melody on the wind. It had been her name, breathed out as a sigh. Erik was finally looking at her now, seeing her truly. He had been so lost in this thoughts that he looked surprised to find her so close to him. Meg couldn't even smile anymore though, she only knew that she wanted to take away his pain, but how could she, when his thoughts were so full of Christine? How could she make him forget?
Erik felt the sun blazing in his heart, a warmth like none he had ever felt encompassed him and all around him there was a feeling of safety and comfort. The tides of the ocean seemed to rush through his veins and the symphony of the trees rustled in his mind. Meg had just kissed him.