Another long one! And lots of fluff. I enjoy writing the fluff just as much as the suspense :P Enjoy!
Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.
Erik awoke to find Christine in his arms and snuggled into his chest. Again, he had to remind himself that it was all real. That it was all happening. Sleepily he reached behind him, blinding grabbing at a pocket watch that he had left there the night before. After sighing in frustration at not being able to find the object he decided it necessary to get up. He turned back to Christine; a sight which made a voice at the back of his mind suggest that two more minutes wouldn't hurt. But he didn't know the time... He had to get up.
He stroked her face gently and placed a kiss on her forehead, always lingering a few more seconds than necessary because he didn't know when it would be his last. Slowly he slipped from her grasp and with pocket watch in hand, crawled out of the makeshift tent; brilliant sunlight greeting him along with biting cold. Hissing at the discomfort he reached back into the tent and retrieved his jacket which he hastily put on.
His watch read seven o'clock... late enough. Arms stiffly folded to keep out the cold; he walked to the river bank and reluctantly washed his mask-less face.
Too cold for anything else.
Slipping the watch into his pocket he felt something else; Christine's letter. Staring pensively out into the early morning fog he held the letter in his pocket. Should he read it he would destroy all the trust he had built with her. But what if he did not? Anything could be in that letter... he could be living a lie; spending time with Christine and falling harder for her with each waking hour only to find that her affections really lay with Raoul? He could not have that. It was demeaning, embarrassing... worst of all it would shatter his heart completely. He simply had to know...Slowly, he began to pull the letter out his pocket...
"Erik?" called a small voice from behind him. Immediately he shoved the letter back down so that it would not be seen. As soon as he had heard her voice he admonished himself for thinking such things. He would have done irreparable damage to his relationship with Christine only to satisfy a curiosity; something The Phantom would have done, not Erik. He did trust her. What a folly that would have been.
He turned around to see her; to see what he could so easily have thrown away.
"Christine." He said warmly.
"It's... f...f...freezing..." She said as she walked towards him, teeth chattering.
"I know. Come here." He smiled. Erik opened his arms with a smile and she gladly walked into his embrace, snaking her hands under his jacket.
"You're s...so w...warm..." She smiled into the folds of his clothing. "I woke and you weren't there. I was worried..."
"You don't need to worry, Christine." He began, pulling her closer to him. "I would never leave you. If I had my way I would never be further than three feet from you."
"Three whole feet!" She teased, receiving a chuckle from Erik. With her ear pressed against his chest the sound seemed to emanate from within him and it filled her with warmth. "This distance is preferable."
"Hmm yes. I agree; a total of zero inches between us; in a word, ideal."
Christine pulled away and looked up at him. Smiling, she reached up and stroked the right side of his face. As soon as her hand had come in contact with his skin, Erik flinched and pulled away.
"I am so sorry, Christine. I had forgotten that I wasn't wearing it..." He turned away from her so that she could only see the left side of his face.
"Erik! We spoke about this last night! I told you..."
"Last night was last night. The sun is up... you can see... too much." He moved to walk back to the tent but Christine caught his arm.
"Please!" She said, stopping him in his tracks with her tone. "After all that we have been through, do you not feel that you can show me your face? I know how you feel about it and I understand but truthfully, it hurts me when you act like this." Her face fell. "It is all because of that night Erik? That night when I removed your mask?"
"No! Christine, God no." He walked towards her, hand covering his face. "Please, don't think that. I told you I had forgiven you for that... I don't even think about it anymore."
"And I told you that I don't care about your face." She reached up and touched the hand that was covering his face. After a few moments he allowed her to remove it. He hated it; hated every second that his face wasn't covered, even if Christine was the only one who could see it. He had spent years, his entire life hiding it from people and it would be hard to change such habits.
"There." She said, looking upon him. Erik felt terribly uncomfortable under her scrutinizing eyes. As she studied each imperfection she was smiling, which put him slightly more at ease but nevertheless he wished that she would stop looking; stop looking and release him from her gaze so that he may turn away as he had always done.
"I like to see your natural hair color." She said, touching his hair and staring at each strand with fascination. "It's so light in the sun."
He did not speak but smiled at her. Only an angel would choose to notice his hair color rather than his lack of it... only Christine. At that moment, her acceptance gave him all the confidence he needed to bend down and place a kiss on her lips. Days ago he would never have dreamed that he would one day have the confidence... have the right to be able to do such a thing. But she loved him... she was his. She had chosen to be with him rather than anywhere else and that was enough. Immediately she greeted his mouth with her own and opened it eagerly.
What he had learned from his experiences with Christine he had remembered; He had mastered yet another skill. His kisses were varying in pressure; strong and passionate at times, gentle and tender at others. Christine smiled into his mouth. She found that the anticipation of predicting each kiss added to the pleasure. How had he learned all of this from their limited intimacy?
"How did you get so good at this?" She asked between kisses. He did not respond, only smiled in return against her skin. She placed her hands on his back, digging her fingers in as he began placing kisses on her neck. She wanted nothing more than to touch him, feel his skin under her own. As he continued kissing her, the temptation became too great and striking a balance between forgetting where she was and not caring she slipped her hands under his shirt. She noticed him flinch as she did so and questioned him with her eyes.
"Still sore." He smiled.
"Sorry." She said, removing her hands and placing them on the sides of his face. He deepened their kiss and then, without breaking it and without warning picked her up and walked to the tent. He could not think of consequences, not now. He could think of nothing but her. Each time she touched him he lost himself further; fell deeper. He hadn't thought of what would happen upon entering that tent... or perhaps he had. All he knew was that he had to get there... he needed to have her, whatever that meant. He was filled with such urgency but to do what? Christine obliged and placed kisses on his neck as he walked.
"Oh, Christine..." He moaned. What she was doing was making it almost impossible to walk but he didn't want her to stop. Deciding that he could take no more he gently dropped her just outside the tent and moved on top of her. Clumsily, trying not to break contact they scrambled into the tent. Once inside, Christine gently pushed Erik down so that he was on his back.
"You will be the death of me, Christine." He said, smiling as she sat on top of him and again began kissing his neck. What was this? How had he lived so long without such a sensation? He had always believed himself to be knowledgeable in all areas, to have a broad understanding of the world but this... he could never have imagined such a thing or how it would feel. He gripped her tightly as she tasted his skin, shivering with delight as she moved down to his chest; the combination of her lips and her warm breath was truly unearthly.
Christine kissed down his neck, moving her body against his as she did so... pulling his collar open to reach his collar bone. She wanted more... To hell with where they were. To hell with everything. She wanted him.
Again, she slipped her hands under his shirt; Erik inhaled sharply as she did so.
"Your hands are cold." He smiled as she questioned him again.
She smiled and continued kissing him, allowing her hands to explore the contours of his torso as she had never done before...
"Actually, maybe... Maybe we should slow it down." He breathed. The shock of the cold had somehow brought him to his senses and Erik knew that soon he would not be able to stop. This was the last place he wanted anything like that to happen. What if they were found?
"Yes..." She said as she continued kissing him.
"I... at least I need to slow down..." he laughed nervously and sat up slightly so that he was resting on his elbows.
"Yes... we should slow down." She said; agreeing but following his mouth and kissing him again, this time softly. She put more weight on him so that he was obliged to lie down and continued absentmindedly trailing her hand over his torso. He lay back, powerless to object any further. He was in heaven. Her fingers were setting his skin ablaze and he was in no rush to stop her. Again, she felt him shudder as her fingers reached his stomach.
"Ah... not there..." He laughed. At first she looked at him, perplexed, but her expression soon changed when she remembered what he had told her.
"Oh, yes! You're ticklish, aren't you?" She teased, eyes wide; seemingly delighted at being reminded. "Are you well enough yet? Am I allowed to...?" She dove for his side but he caught her hand and held it.
"No... Certainly not well enough yet." He smiled. "Perhaps I won't ever be well enough for that..."
"Oh! You liar!" She laughed and squeezed his side with her free hand.
"No!" He laughed; squirming away from her.
"You are well enough!" She said.
"No, really I'm not." He laughed, now holding both of her hands. In his weakened state she was able to wriggle free of his grasp and tickle him before he was able to stop her.
"No...!" He laughed. "Don't!"
"I'm sorry, Erik. It's just too much fun." She teased. She pinned one of his arms to the ground with her knee and tickled his side, causing him to throw his head back and laugh loudly; that deep, rich laugh that she so seldom heard. She had come to be quite fond of it.
"Stop, Christine!" He laughed. He managed to free his arm but she was much faster than him and was always able to reach his body before he could stop her.
"This is for lying to me!" She teased.
"Stop..!" He managed, laughed overcoming him. "Please!"
"Alright." She giggled. "I'll stop." She rolled off him and lay next to him, smiling.
He turned to look at her. "You evil woman." He smiled, out of breath. "Why did I ever tell you that?" He asked, pulling his shirt down and sitting up.
Christine simply shrugged with a smirk on her face.
"You didn't." She said, sitting up and holding him from behind. Knowing the effect it had on him, she began kissing his neck again. "I discovered it on my own."
"If you continue with that thought Christine, I fear that I won't possess the strength to leave this tent." He leaned into her slightly before reluctantly pulling away. "And we do need to leave here. I don't want to stay in one place for too long."
"Yes, I know." Christine sighed, embracing him from behind.
"Come, let us pack up." He turned and kissed her, again allowing his lips to linger on hers for a few moments and closing his eyes. He surprised himself at how confident he was becoming, how natural it was all beginning to feel. He was actually becoming accustomed to human contact and much more...
"So, if you don't mind my asking... what is the plan?" Christine asked.
They were walking beside Caesar. Erik had decided that he needed the rest and that they would only ride him if it were absolutely imperative. The horse hadn't been properly ridden in some time and yesterdays sprint had taken its toll on the animal.
"Plan...?" he responded, almost under his breath.
"I mean... the gypsies. If what you say about them is true then... they won't easily forget about you. They won't easily give up."
"Yes, I know." He answered curtly. "I'm sorry, Christine."
"No, it's fine. I know that you must be stressed."
"Truthfully..." He began. "I don't have a plan. I suppose that at some point..." He looked at her. Of course, she must know. If things escalated then he would do what he always did... what he always had to, to survive. "I will have to..." He struggled with the words and looked at her, almost expecting her to say them for him. Thankfully, she did.
"You... will have to... kill." She said. Erik exhaled.
"...Yes."
There was silence between them. Yes, they had been through a lot and over the last few days she had gained a lot of understanding about him and why he made some of the choices he did but he had not yet addressed his murders... they had not spoken of them. Perhaps Christine preferred it that way, perhaps things like that she had pushed to the back of her mind and perhaps it was better that they stayed there.
"Yes I... I understand that you may have to do that."
"I would do anything to protect you, Christine." He began eagerly. "I would do anything that I had to. I have always done what I needed to keep you safe."
Have?
"Are you saying that... those murders..." she hated having to mention them; having to mention the past. Things were going so well between them; they were finally building trust, building a connection...
"That... you murdered Buquet for me? Please don't say that, Erik."
"Well... I..." He stuttered. He had not expected her to mention the past. It had all seemed another world away, another time and place. "That was for a number of reasons but yes... I felt that... if I were to... remove him from the world, you would be safer."
"You cannot pin that on me, Erik!"
"I'm not, I... Well, like I said there were other reasons!"
"Well what were they?!"
"He did not deserve to live! He was a letch! He was guilty of many heinous crimes inclusive of but not limited to; looking in on the chorus girls changing, stealing, drinking on the job, gambling..." He listed these on his fingers as if adding such an illustrative quality would help Christine to understand. "...he was a waste of space, Christine! I was worried that if I let him live he would harm you... I could not live with myself. I used to see him watch some of the girls when they were alone and I could almost read his mind; I almost knew the sick things he was thinking and if he ever touched you I... Please, I'm not saying that I did it entirely because of you but please do not try and defend the man..."
Christine stared at the path ahead of them. She had heard stories about Buquet. Meg had mentioned on occasion that he had made her feel uncomfortable but she could never really place it. Surely though, that did not excuse his murder? Understanding Erik's motive did not make the crime acceptable... did it? She turned to him with another question.
"Why that night, though? During the performance?" She asked.
"I lost myself momentarily; I was so utterly enraged and offended by the managers' casting choices that lost my temper and gave away my position when I spoke over the auditorium. He was following me... and I knew that if I did not... sort it out, his curiosity would lead him to a place that I didn't want him to be. I couldn't have it."
"But you did so much to ensure that I would have the leading role... and when I was about to go on stage... why did you do it then?"
"I know. I ruined it for you. And I am so sorry... but I lost control of myself and all I could think about was him. Killing does that to you, Christine. It turns you into an animal... and it blinds you. I have never been one for self- restraint... I know that I ruined it for myself also... I know that I lost your trust that night, Christine; that I lost you. I know that that was the turning point but by the time I had awoken from my crazed delirium it was too late. I do not regret him... but I do regret what it did to you. I am so sorry if I hurt you that night."
Hurt? Yes, he had hurt her. He had hurt her so deeply that any hopes she had had of him she pushed to the back of her mind.
"You did hurt me." She said honestly. "And that was what ruined it all... I was just getting to know you and what you did both frightened and shocked me. I didn't want to believe that my angel was capable of such a thing... Even when I knew that he was a man underneath it all. I had you up on a pedestal... I thought so much of you and I suppose that when you did that I felt lost. As if the one thing that was perfect in my life, that had helped me through some of my darkest times... wasn't perfect at all. I felt as if I had nothing because I couldn't even turn to you about it..."
"So... you turned to him." He said stoically. Erik's memory had always been a powerful thing. That night his heart had been just as icy as the roof of the Opera. It appears that that night had broken them both.
"Yes... I turned to him because I wanted to block you out and to be perfectly honest, I was afraid of you."
"Christine, I'm so sorry. I know I've said it a million and one times but truly, I never knew that... what I did... affected you in such a way. All I saw was you and le Vicomte and I thought it was simply a case of you choosing him over me..."
"You forced me to make that decision, Erik."
"But surely you must have known that I would never hurt you... even then?"
"I didn't know anything about you..." She shrugged. "If you had just spoken to me as you are now..."
"I was a different person, then." He mused.
Christine smiled. Yes, he was... but murder was murder. How could she look past that? How many people had he murdered? She understood that someone like him could not altogether avoid catastrophe, and that there would have been times when it was a matter of self defense but did that mean that she could accept it? Regardless, she felt much better now that they had discussed it and while there was a long way to go, they were really beginning to understand one another.
"Erik?" She asked after a few minutes of silence.
He looked down at her in response.
"Where are we going?"
His eyes narrowed and he shifted uncomfortably. Of course he would have to tell her. She would find out sooner or later... but how would she feel about going there after what he had told her? How would he? Soon enough she would ask to hear more. She would ask for the small details he had spent a lifetime trying to wipe from his memory. He looked ahead. All that could be heard was the dirt beneath their shoes and the gentle, lulling rhythm of the stream beside them. He took a breath and then without looking at her, in a voice both detached and vulnerable, he spoke.
"We are going to my childhood home."
I thought that they deserved some fluff after so much drama... and lets face it, there is bound to be more ahead of them. Trouble follows Erik. Part of his charm maybe?
Let me know what you think! :)
Many thanks.
