Mini fic pairing/prompt: 6) things you said under the stars and in the grass (R/C, modern Leroux AU)
"Do we really have to go?" she pleaded as Raoul tugged at the picnic blanket in an unsuccessful attempt to get her to move. Christine had practically taken root beneath her favorite tree in the park. The sun had set some time ago and the city glow made for poor stargazing, but it was the most relaxed she'd felt in weeks and she had no desire to return to reality quite yet. "I'd say so - it's almost eleven."
Eleven…so late already?
"Just two more minutes. Please?" She grinned as Raoul gave up with a groan of mock-annoyance and joined her on the blanket. Holding him close, she imagined a shooting star behind the clouds and wished that this moment could last forever…
Christine awoke with a start and tried to sit up, but a splitting headache forced her back down. When had she fallen asleep? Raoul was gone, the night sky replaced by a stark white ceiling. How had she gotten home? She rubbed at her throbbing temples and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dark. No, not home…
She knew the room by its elegant modern furnishings, no doubt purchased from stores she'd be too embarrassed even to enter. Erik had taken great pains in designing it for her - a gilded cage most songbirds would envy. Christine choked back a sob as the truth of the past twenty-four hours came flooding back in an unstoppable wave. That peaceful day at the park had been a dream. Would only ever be a dream, now.
The door opened and her eyes snapped shut in the hope that if she kept still enough, Erik might think she was still unconscious. He'd told her to sleep on it, after all - hushing her and cautioning her not to strain her voice as the needle pierced her skin and her desperate cries for mercy faded into silence. A tear slipped out from beneath her lashes, betraying her. There was a sigh, and the cool press of Erik's fingers against her cheek as he gently brushed it away.
"It's eleven o'clock, Christine."