9
Disclaimer: I don't own POTO, duh! But I do own any OC's I do not own Meg or Erik. Sadly..
While waiting for Meg to come; Erik remembered that she wouldn't come. Not until after her performance where she may become the lead dancer. He played the organ until he heard her coming. He turned and smiled; glad she hadn't forgotten about him. She came running; thigh deep in water; and a smile on her face.
"How'd it go?" Meg did look a bit disappointed; but she was still smiling.
"Bad." She replied. "I fell over a few of the dancers; and nearly off the stage. So I didn't get to become lead dancer; at least not now."
"Aw." Erik replied. "Oh well. Next time will be better. Did anyone ask about your hand?"
"Yes. Sebastian asked what had happened. I told him I was careless with a kitchen knife." She told him; but then asked what he'd been up to.
"Nothing, I am working on a new opera."
"Can I hear it?" Erik nodded and took her over to the organ. He sat; and began from the beginning. Meg listened attentively; Erik's opera was as mesmerizing to her; as a bug zapper is to a moth. Erik had put a lot of work into it; and when it stopped suddenly; he was finished. "It's amazing." She spoke up. He gave her a light smile and stood up from the bench.
----
Sebastian was caught in the tide of the crowed. Hardly able to break through it to find Meg; people were laughing about the performance; drinking because of celebration; men smoking cigars; and chatting with the ballet girls. He broke through the crowed; and was still unable to find Meg. She seemed to be able to vanish off the face of the earth; and reappear when she pleases. Where was it that she kept going when no one was watching?
----
Meg had gotten Erik to sleep; after hearing that he again; pulled another all-nighter. While he slept; Meg found his closet. The closet he hid all of his paintings of her in. At first; she did not understand them. They had such passion to them; One was of a blond angel leaning on a gargoyle on top of a roof, fire was at the bottom of the page; as if the ground was on fire; and she was with the gargoyle. She picked up another; half of it was bright; and had an angel much like the first one; reaching to the center of the picture; and the other half had a scary-looking man; his face was like a big burn; and she couldn't find the eyes or mouth. Demons were holding him back as he tried to reach the angel.
Then there was one of Christine.
She looked so flawless; her eyes sparkled; her skin looked so smooth. Meg didn't analyze that one as she had the others. She knew what it meant; but the others were a mystery. They all had that blond angel. They were amazing; if he was able to sell them; they would fetch over 200 dollars each. She couldn't help but look at the one he'd painted of Christine. It was so flawless; why had he painted her? Was it because of the feelings he still had for her?
It was an invasion of privacy. Yet; Meg couldn't stop. She did when she thought she heard him waking up. She quickly closed the closet and tried to look busy. But he wasn't waking up; just tossing in his sleep.
----
"Come, come inside, come see the devil's child..." Erik was having a nightmare from his childhood. From when he was in the carnival and his life was at it's worst. Young Madam Giry was there; and many other people he never knew; the scary gypsy man beat him with a stick for the show. People laughed; taunted; and threw things at him. He was filthy; they never allowed him to clean himself up. He was caged like an animal. Their laughter hurt him; more than the beatings. The man pulled the sack he had over his head up over his face; to show his deformity.
Everyone had left after paying for the show. While the man was counting the money; Erik took a rope from one side of his cage; and pulled it around the man's neck. His first murder; and he was only nine. Madam Giry watched as he murdered the man; and helped him escape as she heard people coming.
----
Erik shot up, right into Meg's arms, as if she had been there for that moment. He held onto her; fearing not of what she thought of it. Because she held him too.
"It was only a dream.." She cooed to him; to help him calm down and slow his breathing. "Tell me about it; Maybe it will help.."
"I dreamt of things I thought I'd long forgotten." He told her; hanging tightly onto her. "And of things I hoped I would not remember."
"Like I said.." She told him gently. "It was only a dream, nothing more." He still could not bring himself to let her go; he hoped he would never remember his life in the carnival; as a freak-show. When he did let her go; she still held his hands.
"You drugged me again didn't you?" Meg smiled apologetically.
"How else am I supposed to get you to sleep? Staying up all night isn't good for you." She spoke gently; as if she was still trying to calm him from his nightmare. She wanted to ask him of the painting of Christine. She had so many questions about it; but she was unable to ask him, without him realizing she'd gone into the closet; and looked through his paintings. While trying to find a way to find out about the painting; she noticed he was starring at her; memorizing her face; and trying to tell himself that he shouldn't fall again. She smiled at him; and touched his face. Her touch made him shiver; but it was a good feeling. A feeling that made his eyes close and caused him to take in the sensation.
Meg did not let his face go; seeing how much he liked the feeling of someone being with him.It was almost as if he had needed her touch; he'd longed for the feeling of another person; He opened his eyes again; and realized what he'd done. He'd let his temptations get the best of him; he quickly got out of the bed; grabbed his cape; and told her he was going out. It was dangerous for him to leave the catacombs of the opera populaire; but he had to clear his mind. He wouldn't let her bewitch him like Christine had; Meg stood; watching as he took one of his many tunnels out of the lair; and exited; dry as a bone.
----
He'd gone up to the roof. No one ever went up there; unless they tried to escape. He sat on the base of the winged horse statue; and let the caress of the fall breeze blow on the unmasked half of his face. He'd let his guard down. He let himself grow attached to the blond girl; he'd let her see that he needed her touch. He didn't want to be hurt again; and he almost could guarantee that she would hurt him. She had two other men who were her friends to love her; why would she love someone that was not a man, but a monster?
He shook his head.
He wasn't up there to decide why she wouldn't love him; but how he should stay away. He couldn't very well tell her to stay away from him. That would ruin even a slight friendship. He crossed his arms and pouted.
No more talk of darkness...Forget these wide-eyed fears, I'm here. Nothing can harm you...my words will warm and calm you...He could still hear their little love song echoing in the wind. That was the day he'd experienced the worst of feelings; heartbreak.
Say you'll love me every waking moment...turn my head with talk of summertime...say you need me with you now and always...promise me that all you say is true...
It'd stabbed him so hard. It was as if everyone in Paris had struck him with a sword.But if that had happened; he would have died quickly; it was a torture pain. He closed his eyes and let the breeze rest on his face. He hated remembering, remembering Christine and Raoul; as they had kissed; and left him to die. He'd given Christine his music, and she betrayed him. He felt himself holding back cries.But in the end,failing.There was no way he would ever be able to love anyone; not ever again.
