Little Lotte- Thank you, for just being here for me, you are my world, my everything. I love you lotte, I don't think I could ever have such a friend. I am truly blessed.
The Story referenced in this chapter is the short story, The Lady Or The Tiger.
Chapter 4
"Oh Erik." She whispered tenderly, brushing away a stray strand of hair from his forehead. His eyelashes flutter open, his golden eyes looking up at her with the utmost love.
"Good morning." She smiled at him, kissing his lips softly.
"Why must my mind play tricks on me? Why must I imagine your presence?" He asked with a sigh, averting his gaze.
"Oh my love." She cupped his face in her palms, bringing his lips up to hers.
"This is real."
Rising from her sleep, Katie looked around the painfully familiar room, her gaze finally coming to rest on Mandi's sleeping form beneath the silk sheets. The light from the dieing candle upon the night stand caught in her hair, the light dancing across her fair hair looked like nothing short of gold to her best friend. With a smile upon her face, Katie pulled Mandi's hair away from her face, lovingly looking at her best friend, the one true thing she could always count on.
"What have we gotten ourselves into?" She whispered to herself, looking over at Mandi, she got up off the bed, walking over the large full length mirror that sat opposite the bed. Sighing heavily she looked at her refection, trying to calm her malcontent mind. She stood their for what seemed like an eternity, thinking of Erik. Every fiber of her being both loves, and hates him, driving her to the brink of insanity with him so close, so real to her. To sooth her mind, her hand wandered up to her neck, her fingers fiddling with the simple black ribbon tied around her neck, The same that finds residence upon Mandi's neck, that covers up the thin scare.
"Why here? Of all places, we had to come down into his realm. Why? Why can't we just have normal lives? I thought after the Tarek incident we could live at peace, we where so close, why would the goddess do this to us?" She thought out loud.
"Oh Erik," She sighed heavily, staring deep into her own refection, trying to find herself in the depths of her eyes.
"Why must you torture me? Why must your rip my heart in two? You are the unachievable, someone I dare not long for, I know I can't have you, but why must my heart still claim you as the owner? If only I didn't have such a foolish heart." A single crystal tear fell down her cheek, composing herself, she whipped away the insecure tear, putting on her familiar emotional mask.
"I have no heart."
A soft knock ended her monologue, causing Katie to jump.
"It's him." She whispered frightfully. Picking up the hem of her skirt, she ran to the bedside, wishing Mandi was awake.
"Jammes, please get up." She whispered, but her attempt was folly. She new her best friends was anything but a morning person and wouldn't stir with a whisper so early, for it must have been only four or five in the morning. Sighing, she longed to shake her and wake her up, but she dare not make a sound that he could hear. Like a condemned prisoner, she walked over to the door, placing her hand on the door knob, she tried to push the horror that would find meet her out of her mind, she she couldn't help but think of a story she once read, if only there was a tiger on the other side.
Opening the thin pine door, she found his gold eyes flicking behind his black mask, the executioner in her mind.
"Forgive me for waking you." He began, the flesh beneath his mask turning a pastel red.
"You didn't wake me." She insisted, the words escaping her lips before she knew what she was saying.
"I..I.." His fingers fidget nervously, something only his Christine could instill in him. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, his gaze resting upon the floor.
"Forgive me for interrupting you." He said, before turning and walking away. Curiously Katie leaned out of the door way, to watch him disappear off into his own bedroom. Turning back to the room she found Mandi sitting up in bed, a questioning look upon her face.
"What on earth did you do to poor Mr. Darcy?" She jokingly quoted, as Katie sat down beside her.
"I have no idea." She admitted plainly, unaware of the comedic reference, still trying to comprehended what had just happened.
Once safe in his own bedroom, Erik hit the back of his head against the wooden door, cursing himself. Running his hands up to his face, he untied the strings of the mask, pulling it away from his most hated feature. Looking down at the black leather, his frustration grew.
"What is wrong with you Erik?" He asked himself, tossing the mask into his coffin bed. Sinking down to the floor, he rested his chin upon his skeletal knees.
"It's Christine." looking into the darkness of the room around him, his mind took him back a few months ago, before she left.
She stood in front of him, her white wedding dress clinging to her figure, desperate calling him. She looked like a perfectly bloomed rose, just waiting to be held, and to prick the finger of the one who loved her. She was so painfully close, every fiber of his being wanted her, to feel her lips upon his, her flesh against his, her eyes upon his face with only love held in them. Looking up into his gold eyes, she wiped away the tears flowing down his yellow cheeks with her thumb, before bring her lips to his. Softly brushing against him at first, she crushed her lips against him, sending shots of heated bliss throughout his entire body. Desperately he wove his hands into her hair, wishing they would never part, but knowing they must.
He knew he didn't deserve her, she needed someone who could love her, and give her the perfect life she needs. She couldn't live down in his hell, she needs to be able to fly in the glorious sunlight, basked in the public's love, she needs to be safe, only Raoul could give her that.
His dream was shattered by a piercing cry, his siren. He snapped to his feet, listening to the sound of his alarm system. Someone was coming to his home. He wished desperately that it was just Christine or Jammes leaving, but he was no fool. Being the rather paranoid genius, he set up a serious of alarms, each releasing a different sound, the one currently ringing, the farthest away from his home. Had it beet Jammes, she would have tripped one of the earlier alarms, and Christine knew how to come and go without setting them off. Grabbing his famous Punjab lasso, Erik hurried out of his room, listening to the cry become lower, longer.
"Great, they are here." He cursed beneath his breath, ready to meet the intruder.
