For the last few chapters I forgot to do a disclaimer: Well I don't own anything, not even Erik, not even Raoul, not that I want to. Well maybe I do so I could kill him, but I don't so that's that settled…
A/N: By the way in this chapter Erik is wearing the same shirt and trousers as he wore for Don Juan at the end of the film. Yummmmmmm
Christine and Erik stayed like that for a while, neither wanting to move. He rubbed his hand up and down her back in a loving way, and Christine in return wrapped her arms around him. He smiled slightly at her childlike gesture but said nothing. She sighed contentedly.
"Erik?" she asked tilting her head back so she could look at him.
"Yes?" he replied quietly, the love emanating from that one simple word. Christine rested her head in the crook of his neck, slightly loath to ask the question.
"What about Raoul?" she said hesitantly. There was a silence, but she knew that Erik was just thinking. She knew that he wasn't angry because his pulse stayed the same, which, she could feel. Her head happened to be resting in a position where she could feel it. It was slow and calm like the rising and falling of his chest.
It was at this point that she noticed something. Just the way that his shirt was sitting, she could see a lot of his chest. Which, in her book wasn't such a bad thing, as she found now. But not only was it extremely muscled, it was also scarred. Erik finally answered.
"I don't think that he will bother us for a while," he said reassuringly.
"That's good and I believe you… But what happened this time?" She was slightly worried about saying this because she remembered the last time that she had asked about his past…
"When, what are you talking about now," he said raising one eyebrow, the way he did sometimes because he knew that it would make her smile.
"Your chest." She pulled the shirt away to reveal the majority of his chest. There were scars all over it. She guessed that they got there the same way that his ribs got broken.
She rubbed her hands over the scars. Erik tried to suppress a shiver at her touch but didn't succeed. She smiled. He grabbed her hand and it sent shivers up her spine. It was funny the effect that they could have on each other.
It must have been over a long period of time and not all at once that he got these scars because if he had gotten them all at once he would probably have bled to death.
"It's a long story," he said trying to avoid the subject, but this time she wouldn't let him wriggle out of it.
"Well I'm not going anywhere," she could tell that 'well I am' was on his lips but she didn't give him a chance and straddled his stomach again saying, "And neither are you," with a smile.
He put his hands gently on her hips and sighed. But no he wouldn't distract her either with his loving touch.
She grabbed both of his arms and pinned then down on either side of them, flat against the bed. He couldn't really move she hoped. The fact was that he could but, 1# He didn't want to and 2# He would hurt her if he tried which he didn't want to do.
So in a way going by number two, he couldn't move.
"Spill," she said. Raising her eyebrows.
"Ask Madame Giry. She will give you a better account of it," he said calmly. And he knew that she would because he only remembered flashes of it. Some nights- most nights he had dreams about and some times the dreams would bring back things that he hadn't remembered before, most of the time he didn't want to remember.
"Madame Giry? Why Madame Giry." She asked.
"Because she was there."
"Was it something to do with your childhood?" she asked genuinely interested. He nodded.
"You know. I've never met anyone interested in anything that involves me. Why are you so interested?" he asked curious.
"Because I love you," Christine said and lent forward and kissed him. Then she pulled back and leaned forward again to kiss him. He sat up and put his arms around her, which, she was no longer holding down.
Then without warning she gave him a French kiss. She could tell he was surprised. He held it for a few minutes and then pulled away. The look on his face made Christine burst out laughing.
She pushed him down on his back again, and pinned his arms down as she had before. "You've lived in France all these years and not once had a French kiss?"
He shook his head slowly. She leaned forward and gave him another one. This time he joined in. Christine decided that he must have a natural talent for kissing.
"You must have a natural talent for kissing," she said when she pulled away to breathe. He smiled.
She lay down on top of him and rested her head on his scarred chest. She heard his heartbeat, which was no longer steady…
He loved her, but he would have to tell her sometime about him and Madame Giry. He wasn't going to drop Madame Giry like Christine had dropped him. No, not this time…
Sorry it's so short and that I've been gone so long but… things happen and your tastes change, but I hope this satisfies you all for while:D