Little Lotte- thanks for waiting, I love you!

Chapter 8

Erik sat alone in his room, his large, skeletal hands over his pale bare face, trying to figure what would occur next in this twisted game of mortality. His fingers danced over the thin wrinkles upon his forehead, down to the raised veins of his forearm. Erik was no fool, he knew his age, he was old. Living the way he did, it wouldn't take too long. He was sure he would die after Christine left, but he has lived on, slowly, painfully. He did everything he could to hide his frailty from her, especially since she returned to him.

How often he had tried to kill himself, but never to accomplish something so simple. It was so simple for him to take a life, just simple pressure on his famous Punjab, and the poor soul was sent up to God, or perhaps Mephistopheles. He tried to ruin his life, to bring his death closer, but still it wouldn't come. His health was never any great importance, his fancy for wine, opium, and morfine were no help, his belief for lacking sleep and food didn't add to his personal care, but after all, he never wanted to live anyway, and every day he cursed for being around for so long already. His need for morphine only seemed to increase each day, as his tolerance grew.

"If only I had been younger." He whispered to himself, wiping his hand down his face, releasing a sigh.

His entire body ached, screaming for the peaceful end. Slowly he pulled himself off of the bed, heading over to the same, oak box he kept on his vanity. Taking the box in his hands, he carried it over to his bed, pulling out the precious object, a syringe.

This was his escape, the only thing that took the pain away, well, a little brandy usually helped. He brandished the white liquid before him, seeing his twisted reflection in the curved glass,his own gaze burning into him, his burning need growing.

She simply laid in bed for the what seemed like an eternity to her, thinking only of him, her love. So long she was waited to see him again, to touch him. No, not Katie, she didn't want anything to do with him, or this place, all she wanted was to go home, but it was not her who laid in this bed, staring up at the ceiling as she used to do every night. No, Katie no longer found residence here, but Christine did.

As she did earlier, she rose from her bed, her body refusing to be anywhere but at his side. He wouldn't send her away again, he wouldn't be able to save her from what she wanted. silently she made that journey back to his room, stopping at his door. It hung a jar, Erik's shape appearing in the little creases. He laid in his bed, Tears streaming down his twisted flesh as his hand lay over his trousers.

Christine's virgin eyes widened as she saw the rapid motion of his hand, knowing what he was doing to himself. She stood there awkwardly, her eyes turned away, unable to move. She couldn't leave, her body wouldn't let her, and she obviously couldn't go in there, not with him in such a vulnerable state.

"Oh Christine." He whimpered, letting go of himself, bringing his hands up to catch his tears, his pride falling to nothing. What life did he have? The only pleasure coming from his own hand. He new she was just outside the door, her blue eyes catching the soft glow from the candles lit in his room, but he didn't care, not anymore.

Let her know the sins I force upon myself, let her know how I condemn myself to the depths of her god's hell to save her, he thought, burring his face into his pillow. Tears streamed down her own cheeks as she watched him cry.

"What have I done?" She whispered, slowly opening the door. He listened to her light steps as she approached his bed, fear flooding his body as she neared him.

"Erik." She spoke tenderly, laying her palm against his forehead, lightly kissing his lips, bringing her body to rest beside him. He shivered as she rested her head on his bare chest, curing her fingers over his arm. He tried to pull back, but she held him still, her head rising and falling rapidly with his breath, his heart pounding.

"Christine, please." He whimpered, feeling himself need her. Despite his plea, she refused to move, simply lifting her head to look him in the eyes.

"No, you are my husband, and I shall sleep beside you as a wife should."she spoke sternly, before resting her head back on him. She watched as his excitement grew, and new his face was flushing from his inability to hide such a need.

Her eyes slowly roamed around his bedroom, coming to rest upon his bedside table, an empty syringe laying haphazardly next to an oak box. Tears formed in her eyes, she hated that cursed drug, she hated what it would eventually do to him, take her love away.

He watched curiously as her gaze fell upon his needed saviour, tears forming him her eyes. Slowly she brought her gaze up to him, running her finger over his cheek.

"Why? Why?" She wept, running her hand down his neck to rest over his heart.

"Christine, please." He stated, not wanting to argue with her, not now.

"Why Erik? Why can't you love me? Why do you have to resort to that damn stuff!" She screamed,flying her hand to motion to the needle.

"Why can't you take me instead of keeping to yourself!" She brought her hand down to his trousers boldly, laying it flat against him. He jerked back, pushing her hand away. Furiously, she slapped him clear across his face. Anger filled him, as he pushed her off of him completely, shooting up off of the bed, pacing back and forth before it. Angered and hot tempered, she herself followed his actions, stopping him in his tracks.

"If you want sex go back to your chap, I am sure he will gladly comply." He spat, not thinking of what he was saying.

"I don't want just sex Erik!" She screamed back at him, forcefully pushing him against the wall.

"I want you!" He pushed her away, storming past her, out of his room. She caught him by the arm, refusing to let there battle end.

"You don't know what you want." He hissed, pulling his arm from her grasp.

"I think I know what I want." She spoke, forcing her lips on his. He wanted to protest, to throw her off of him, but he couldn't. His self control shattered as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her tonge slipping into his mouth. Everything he tried to save her from, everything he denied himself for so long was all folly, she wouldn't have that, nor did he wish her to stop.