So, this is really long one... longest one yet actually but i felt like it all needed to be in the one chapter. Its a bit of conversation and a bit of fluff i guess. Sorry for the late-ish update. Things are getting busier for me now. Thank you to all the readers and reviewers etc. Really helpful! :)
Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber
After a while, Erik slowed Caesar down to a steady walking pace once more. They had not spoken for about an hour. The sun had well and truly risen and now, above all else Erik was fearing the moment when Christine would have to look upon his face; this was the first time she will have looked on him in actual sunlight, almost all other times the shadows had given him some reprieve from her searching eyes. Perhaps she would change her mind entirely with a single glance. Erik steered Caesar to the left and they continued down a small, dirt road.
"...How much longer?" Christine asked groggily. She yawned and stretched. Erik smiled. She must have been just as relaxed as he was and had fallen asleep on him.
On him.
Again.
"I'm sorry I didn't keep you company, I must have dozed off." She said, yawning again.
"It's quite alright, Christine. Not long now; ten minutes or so."
Ten minutes until you see my face for the first and last time; the way it truly is.
Ten minutes until you leave again; until this face ruins me, again.
"Quite a... bright day, wouldn't you say?" He remarked nervously. He couldn't remember the last time he had been out in this much sunlight. Part of him hoped that she would mention his face just so that It could be out in the open; so that he could be sure she wouldn't run.
"Yes. A lovely day." She beamed, clearly not picking up on his nervous undertones. "This is all quite exciting isn't it? Now that... much of the danger is behind us."
"The danger will never truly be behind us, Christine. You know this, don't you?"
"Yes I know, I know. But at least we can enjoy this moment, can't we? I'm sure that our troubles are not over just yet but for now we have escaped and we are alive... and we are together."
"Yes." He smiled.
Until you turn around.
"...What's wrong?" She asked.
"What? What could possibly be wrong, Christine? I have you with me."
She smiled dismissively. "Something is wrong. I can tell that something is on your mind..."
"We are that well acquainted already?" He responded, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
"Don't be like that, Erik. Just tell me what is on your mind." She persisted. Perhaps she did know him...
"Alright, fine." He sighed as if to imply that explaining it would be hugely inconvenient... "You know some of what I have lived through, very little. You must know that we are all the product of our environment and my life has taught me simply that I need to hide my face. This lesson has been drilled into me for as long as I can remember; sometimes by force. I am sure you know that I... do not appreciate daylight as much as say... Raoul would. I do not cast aspersions on your character or on you as a person and... I will not judge you on past acts as I have promised... but... what I am trying to say is that..."
She wished that she could see him; look into his eyes, but something told her that if she chose to turn around at this moment he would stop talking and the conversation would be over.
He sighed again, frustrated with himself.
"I am trying to say that..."
"Are you worried that once I see your face in the light, I will leave?"
He exhaled. "Yes." He hadn't realized he had been holding his breath...
"I understand your reservations about daylight... about me. You know that I would not leave, because I have told you as such. However, if you aren't ready for me to see your face properly... that is fine too."
"Thank you... Christine." He said quietly. "You must understand that it is not you that I doubt... it is myself. Each and every time someone has seen my face it has ended the same way. The screams of others I have grown used to, but if you were to react in such a way... I could not bear it."
"You shan't have to." She smiled. "Now tell me..." She began, deciding to change the subject. "How long have you had Caesar? Did you steal him like Raoul mentioned?"
"Please do not tell me you believe everything that fool utters from those petulant lips of his? As it happens... I did... borrow Caesar..."
"Oh... borrow!" She laughed.
"Yes, borrow!" He smiled. "I did borrow Caesar from the company a few years back but I assure you that he was always well looked after."
"How is it that Raoul found him among the other horses if he is kept with you?"
"The last time I left the Opera I did not have time to take him back down with me. As it happens he was in the right place. If he had been down in the cellars with me last night things may not have gone so smoothly... I do not think it possible for a horse use a ladder..." He smirked.
"I wouldn't say that things went smoothly at all, Erik."
"Well, no. Things could always be worse though..."
"I suppose." She mused. Clearly he had experienced 'worse'.
"...This is nice." She began.
"What? The ride?"
"Well, yes. I meant the talking though. It's quite nice being able to speak with you like this. It's nice to know that after all this time we actually get along quite well..."
"I am relieved to hear it. Last night and this morning... it is probably the most I have spoken in a year."
"Well, you're quite good at it."
"Thank you." He smirked. If only she knew what it actually felt like... After all this time he was finally able to converse with her, to touch her, hold her. He was allowed to. It was more than he would have dared to dream of only a week prior. The magnitude of what he was feeling was seemingly imperceptible to Christine... part of him hoped it was. If he could remain by her side he would never be in need of anything else.
"We are just like a lady and a gentleman having a conversation."
"Almost normal." He mused.
"We are normal." She responded reassuringly.
"Yes... Well here we are." Finally they had come to a clearing in the landscape; not a moment too soon... The dirt track they had been following opened up to reveal a small, double-storey cottage surrounded by greenery. Vines crept up the stone walls and the dirt track continued around to the back of the cottage. There was a small, broken-down well to the right of them; beautiful in its state of disuse.
"It's not much... but it should be safe for the present time."
"It's beautiful! It's perfect... it reminds me of my father's house by the sea... It's the greenery, I think... or perhaps it was just the way I felt; that happiness that I find familiar. Help me down, Erik so I can take a closer look."
Erik slowly began to dismount Caesar, once more grimacing at the pain the movement caused him.
Almost there now.
Each second brought him closer to what could quite possibly be his final moment with Christine. Of course, if she wished to leave him after this, he would allow it. He would even escort her back despite the risks... and the heartache. His boots hit the dirt and he stood for a moment facing Caesar; his fists clenched.
Just do it. Better to get it over with.
I'm going to regret this.
He had to reveal himself to her; his true self. No more lies. No more pretense. Erik took a deep breath before taking a step forward and presenting himself to Christine. She looked down at him. Yes, he looked a mess; perhaps worse than ever given his injuries and the night they had had. His face was just as she had remembered it to be but she took a moment to study it; his right eye was still slightly sunken in and the eye-lid still drooped as she had remembered it. The reddened mass of uneven flesh stretched from the right side of his nose to his skull where no hair grew. His face actually looked better than it had previously; perhaps it was the lighting, perhaps it was in contrast to the other side of his face which now looked quite bad due to the blood... perhaps it was something else... Her gaze reached his eyes, pleading and piercing blue; they were hoping, praying that she would accept him, that she would be different; that in the cold light of day her feelings had not changed for him. She knew that he was expecting some sort of response; a signal to show him that she was neither afraid nor disgusted with what she saw.
She smiled at him and stretched her arms out for assistance. "If you don't help me down from here, I shall have to jump. Then we may both be injured." For this she was rewarded with a rare sight. Never had she seen a more genuinely placated smile. His eyes seemed brighter than they ever had and they possessed a certain warmth that she had not yet seen. It was the smile of a boy; elated, unhindered... perhaps it was the smile of a boy; a boy who was finally able experience the acceptance and love he had been searching for his entire life. It seemed as if everything had been building up to this moment for Erik and one little smile from Christine was all it took for one of his many barriers to come crashing down.
He reached up and helped Christine down from the horse. Without speaking he pulled her into his arms and burying his face in her curls, held her tightly and exhaled.
"Thank you." He breathed shakily.
Christine did not respond. The fact that he felt the need to thank her for something so small; something so many took for granted was more than she could bear. She was not ignorant to what this moment meant to him; she had seen it all in his pained eyes as he had stared up at her, begging her to accept him, to want him, to love him. Being mindful of his injuries she embraced him in return. She wanted to weep, weep for him, for his suffering but she restrained herself. She could tell by the way he was desperately gripping her that he was already quite emotional and the last thing she needed was for him to misconstrue her sadness; if he thought for a second that she was weeping because of him rather than for him this would all be over. She knew by now that he could be quite capricious and irrational when upset. He would not give her time to explain herself and the trust would be broken. She built up her courage and placed a small kiss on his neck.
"Oh... Christine." He purred; his voice deep and gravelly. "You... truly have redeemed me... Just by being you..."
"Erik, you... are... wonderful. You are... well you are quite temperamental but you are witty and caring and... loving and amazing... You are talented in ways that most men could not possibly imagine and you... are beautiful."
Of course Erik could not begin to believe what she had just told him. Truthfully, most of it was lost on him. His head was still spinning from the kiss she had so generously bestowed upon him. He did not respond until he was sure that he could control his voice.
"Come, I must take Caesar around the back and cool him off, then we can go inside."
Erik led Caesar around the side of the house and into the small stable at the back.
"It's good that Caesar will be out of sight."
"Yes. Part of the reason I chose this property."
Christine watched as Erik lovingly washed his horse down. Caesar hastily accepted the bucket full of drinking water in Erik's hands.
"You and me both, Môn ami." Erik said affectionately. "You must be hungry?" He looked up at Christine. "Thirsty perhaps? Both? I know that I am. Shall we go inside?"
"Yes!" Christine exclaimed, excitedly. They walked back to the front of the cottage where Erik produced a small key from underneath the front step. Before he could put the key in the lock, Christine embraced him.
"Ouch..." His wince soon changed to a smile. "What's this for?" He smiled.
"We made it. Our lives can begin." He looked down at her and allowed himself a momentary indulgence. Her eyes were swimming with possibilities for them both and for a moment he found himself lost in their chocolate depths.
Our lives.
Our.
"...Let's go inside" Their eyes seemed to be locked together and he had to consciously look away lest he be frozen in this blissful moment. He turned to the door and unlocked it.
"After you." He said, holding the door open with great difficulty. "I know it isn't a lot. I wish I could give you what you really deserve..."
"Erik, stop. I love it."
"Well... I think that it is an upgrade from where we used to live..." He smirked.
"Most definitely."
Slowly, Erik sat down on a chair that was by the door.
"No, come on. Let's clean your wounds so that you can properly rest."
"No. I'm fine, Christine." He began to stand up again. "I'll make us some tea." Clearly he was trying to delay that which he was not looking forward to.
"Tea? Erik, I have not come all this way just so that you can die of infection. Now, where are your bandages and... things?"
"Things." He smirked under his breath.
How cute.
He sighed. Everything is in the cupboard... there... in the corridor."
Christine walked over to where Erik had gestured and returned with bandages and alcohol. She then found the kitchen and returned with a bowl of water.
"I should start with your face."
He laughed cynically. "I'm afraid there isn't much you can do there, my dear."
"Erik." She said sternly. She was far too fatigued for his self- deprecating humor.
"It's fine though, really. Let me do that. I can't reach my back, would you do that for me Christine?"
"Don't be like this."
"I'm not being like anything. Please, allow me some dignity. I would rather you not look upon my face for an extended period of time..."
"Just let me do this, Erik!"
"...Alright." He stared at her, shocked at how forthright she had just been.
"Sorry... I"
Erik waved his hands in a dismissive gesture.
"It's fine. Work your magic, Môn ange." He smiled.
She wiped away most of the excess blood from his face. Now that she could actually identify the injuries, it was not as bad as she had once feared. His face was bruised and there was some swelling, but the large cut on this cheek would not need stitches and the rest were quite small.
"Sorry about this." She said, holding up the alcohol.
"It has to be done." He nodded. He winced as she sterilized the wounds on his face. The large cut on his chest did need stitches but he calmly guided her through the process in spite of the pain and she dutifully followed.
"I'm not looking forward to this." She said when it was time to treat his back.
"Neither am I." He said, taking the cape off.
The process of cleaning the wounds on his back took the longest and it was the most painful but Erik did his best not to cry out so as to not frighten Christine.
"That part is never easy." He breathed. "You did well, Christine. Thank you."
When she had finished she wrapped the bandages she had found around his torso.
"This has happened to you before, then...?"
"Oh yes."
"Well I... noticed old scars on your back but I didn't want to pry..."
"Yes... in the past I have had... encounters such as last night"
"I... never quite know what to do when you say something like that; When you talk about your past. You speak about it so casually and I can't imagine the horrors you went through"
"Oh." He laughed. "I am sorry. I had not meant to frighten you. I speak of it in such a casual manner because it is the only way I can cope with it. If it disturbs you in any way I... will make a point not to bring it up again."
"No, I don't want you to stop speaking of it... I want to know but i... just don't know what to say."
"You needn't say anything." He smiled. "I don't mention my past because... I'm looking for some misguided sense of pity..."
"Yes, I know. It is confusing in a way because sometimes you want to speak of it and sometimes you don't..."
"I want to speak of it on my own terms." He said plainly. "If I feel as though I can handle the weight of a certain memory then I will discuss it. If I'm feeling particularly vulnerable, then I won't. It's quite hard to explain, Christine. I don't expect you to understand..."
"Don't treat me like that, Erik."
"Like what?"
"Like I could not possibly understand you. I want to understand you but sometimes I think that you don't want me to..."
"I don't mean to sound condescending, Christine. I simply meant that I do not expect you to understand me because most of the time, I do not understand myself." He stood up and walked to the window.
"I am a complex man, Christine. My mind is a dark, chaotic place. Most of the time tumultuous memories cloud my thoughts, nightmares rob me of sleep and my own thoughts threaten to push me over the edge. You cannot live the life I have and not be changed... scarred..." He gestured to his back. "As much as I feel for you, I cannot simply change who I am and divulge... everything."
"I know that." She walked up to him. "I am willing to wait."
"I cannot become the outgoing, social man you may be searching for."
Was that a reference to Raoul...?
"I never wanted you to change. I do not wish for you to be any different. It's just that you know so much about me and... I want to know about you."
He sighed. "If it makes you feel more at ease... you know more about me now than most people on this earth."
He was being dismissive with her and although she knew why, she wasn't at ease. She knew that he was complex and that he was a private person but how could she possibly get close to him if he wasn't going to share anything with her?
"Come. We should change out of these clothes and find something to eat. Follow me." He led her up a set of old wooden stairs and into a small bedroom containing nothing but a bed, a wardrobe and a small window overlooking the dirt road upon which they had traveled.
"No mirror?" She asked, slightly disappointed.
He looked at her; a look which admonished her for asking such a question.
"Yes." She nodded. "Right."
"There... is only one bed but... don't distress. I shall take the couch downstairs."
"No. You will have the bed. You're injured! No need for chivalry here, Erik. I can see how much discomfort you are in."
"Come now, Christine. You shall have the bed. It is the least I can do..."
"We cannot risk it. You need proper rest after everything. Take the bed!"
"Well... ordinarily I would not oblige but you are right..." His side was throbbing and a sleep on the lumpy sofa downstairs would do him no good at all. "Anyway..." Hesitantly he opened the wardrobe to reveal a number of decorated dresses and garments. "These are your clothes... I'm afraid I don't have any ladies nightwear. Until I have opportunity to attain such items, I fear that one of my night shirts will have to suffice..."
"...That will be fine." She responded, slightly embarrassed at the thought of wearing his clothing. "These dresses are beautiful, by the way."
He smiled proudly.
"These are all your clothes?" She questioned, taking note of the right side of the wardrobe; finely tailored shirts, waistcoats and tailcoats hung neatly in line.
"Yes."
"Phantom clothes..." She mused quietly.
To this he laughed audibly. "What? What does that mean?" He smiled.
"I didn't realize I had said that out loud... I just meant that these were the clothes you wore when I knew you as 'The Phantom'" She laughed.
"I see. Then what, pray tell does Erik's attire consist of?" He teased.
Unintentionally her eyes flicked down at his body and she blushed. Under the bandages he was still considerably under dressed...
His eyes caught her gaze almost immediately and he snatched a shirt off one of the hangers; suddenly quite conscious of himself. A sheepish grin on his face, he pulled a second shirt from inside the wardrobe and handed it to her.
"...You should change... It's unwise to stay in damp clothes for an extended period of time, particularly in this weather."
She took it gratefully. "Erik... what did you mean before, when you said that I was searching for an outgoing man...?"
"I meant nothing of it, really."
"Did you mean Raoul... because I don't..."
"Did you want me to mean Raoul?" He turned to her.
"No... I"
"Have you thought about him since you have been with me? I can't say that I blame you... He is the ideal man, I must admit. Does he seem ideal to you, Christine?" his voice was now rising and it was dripping with sarcasm. Christine could see that this was escalating.
"I was just asking if you meant Raoul because if you did you would be wrong!"
"Why do you keep bringing him up, Christine?"
"I don't!" Now her voice was raised. "You do!"
"...Because if you want to go to him, perhaps you should!"
"Urgh... I don't! ...Why do you keep dismissing me!? And stop yelling at me!"
"I am not..." He sighed. "I am yelling. I am sorry, Christine." He walked back over to the wardrobe and gently closed the doors. "I am no longer hungry... if you wish you can help yourself to any food in the house. There should be fresh bread on the bench top and you will find a range of accoutrement there as well."
"Erik, please. Let's eat together."
"I'm not in the mood... Take the bed, please." With that, he walked down stairs.
Christine flopped down on the bed in frustration. What could she possibly do with this man? He was infuriating! Perhaps, in time she would learn to deal with his shortcomings but for now, she needed rest. A good sleep would put everything in perspective.
Erik sat down on the couch, grimacing at the pain he had caused himself in his haste. Perhaps he had been too short with her... He was aware of his temper, yes... and perhaps he had overreacted... but he was no fool. Surely Christine had thought about the boy since they had last spoken. Surely with every new hardship she would think twice about her choice; reconsider her options. If that was the case, perhaps he should escort her back sooner rather than later.
"Erik..." a small voice sounded from the bottom of the stairs. He turned to see Christine standing before him in his night shirt... For a moment he stared at her in awe, his eyes hastily searching her body. He couldn't breathe.
He cursed himself and turned away. "Christine... this is highly improper." He said shakily. Surely he was expecting some sort of response from the entrancing woman at the bottom of the stairs but the words she spoke were not at all what he was expecting.
"Come upstairs..."
