The Perfect Solution
An Alternate Universe – Phantom of the Opera Story
Nyasia A. Maire
© 2007
DISCLAIMER: I do not hold the rights nor did I create any characters found in The Phantom of the Opera or Phantom, nor have I received monetary compensation for writing this story.
"Absent, adj. Peculiarly exposed to the tooth of detraction; vilified; hopelessly in the wrong; superseded in the consideration and affection of another.
To men a man is but a mind.
Who cares what face he carries or what form he wears?
But woman's body is the woman.
O, stay thou, my sweetheart, and do never go,
but heed the warning words the sage hath said:
a woman absent is a woman dead."
Jogo Tyree
Excerpt from "The Devil's Dictionary" – By Ambrose Bierce
Chapter Eleven – A Woman Absent
He walked across the room with an air of confidence he did not feel. He felt surprised that a being as frail as the one lying on the bed before him, propped up by numerous pillows could exude such an enormous sense of calm and control. She wore a simple nightgown of gray linen. She wore her long hair braided into two plaits. The worn comforter adorning her bed covered her modestly. Her hands lay atop the comforter, clasped serenely upon her lap. Sensing the movement in the shadows, she raised her eyes to his and smiled.
"Bonsoir, Monsieur Erik. You wished to see me?"
Erik blushed at her words and not for the first time did the thought cross his mind, that this slip of a woman enjoyed tormenting him with words, which held two meanings – one, innocent and one, not. His eyes shifted towards Madame Giry whose eyes were intently observing Christine when she felt his gaze upon her. The woman acknowledged him with a brief nod before she spoke.
"I shall leave you two for now, but please Monsieur, make your visit short. Christine needs to sleep so that she may fully recover by tomorrow."
She raised an eyebrow at him with a small, knowing smile and then giving Christine an affectionate pat on her hand, she withdrew from the room.
Antoinette breathed a sigh of relief as she entered her sitting room and then froze, shocked at the sight that met her eyes. Sitting on the settee, locked in a passionate embrace and kissing one another deeply were Meg and the young Vicomte de Chagny. Lost in the throes of their passion, the two lovers had not noticed that they were no longer alone. Antoinette's stunned silence broke as she saw Raoul's hand begin to slip from her daughter's shoulder and slide to the front of her chest.
"Monsieur le Vicomte! What do you think you are doing to my daughter? Meg! To your room, now!"
She pointed towards the hallway with her cane before she swung around to face the somewhat breathless young man. Meg let out a mortified squeal, pushed herself from Raoul's arms and dashed out of the room with her hands covering her crimson cheeks. The flush on Raoul's face almost matched Meg's, but Antoinette could tell the cause of his flushed cheeks was not from embarrassment. The young man turned and began to make a hasty retreat, heading in the direction of the quarter's front door. His step checked by the woman's growl of displeasure.
"Monsieur le Vicomte … Raoul de Chagny! How dare you compromise my daughter? Do not move from that spot! I have held my tongue until now, but now you will feel the lash of it. I welcomed you into my home and this is how you repay me? You take advantage of my daughter's innocence and you do it under my roof. I think not, Monsieur! You have just given me ample evidence of your unsavory intentions towards my daughter. And, you, Monsieur, call yourself a gentleman? Bah! Why should I allow you to enter my home again? Why should I grant you permission to call on my daughter again? Please, Monsieur. I would very much like to know."
A silence pervaded the entire room so heavy that the man bowed under its weight. His shoulders slumped in defeat as he spoke in a voice so quiet it forced Antoinette to take a step closer to him in order that she could hear his reply.
"I have no excuse, other than I am in love with your daughter, Madame. I truly love her. I do!"
He hung his head and turned away from the outraged older woman.
"Well, that is all very fine and good for you to say, but what do you intend to do with your feelings for my daughter?"
Raoul fumbled in his pocket for a moment and then withdrew a small square jeweler's box. He held the box out to Antoinette, who realizing what the box contained let out a shocked hiss.
"You intend to propose to my daughter? You wish to take my Meg as your wife?"
Dropping his gaze to the floor, he fidgeted and then muttered.
"If you will allow it and she will have me, yes."
Christine nodded towards the chair Madame Giry had just vacated.
"Monsieur, this has been a trying day for the both of us. Please pull the chair up closer to the bed or …."
She paused, as she graced Erik with a devilish grin before she continued.
"There is plenty of room here next to me on the bed. Actually, Erik, I would prefer the second choice. I would very much love to cuddle with you as well as …."
"Mademoiselle! Please? That is quite enough! I find I have a difficult enough time controlling myself in your presence without you tempting me further. Am I simply sport to you or dare I hope that you may harbor some feelings for me? If you simply wish to toy with my affections and have no other interest in me, please tell me now and I will leave you in peace."
The two passed several moments in an awkward silence. Erik stared at Christine and Christine stared at her clasped hands. Erik sighed, his shoulders sagged in defeat as he turned to leave. He walked to the door, his hand moved to turn the latch, but hovered there for a moment. Without turning his head away from the door, he sadly spoke his final words to her.
"I thought you felt something for me. I apologize for my mistake. Adieu, ma amour le plus chère!"
Suddenly, the coquette disappeared and the uncertain girl revealed herself as she called out to Erik.
"No! Please! Do not leave. You do not owe me an apology. You made no mistake. I do have feelings for you, Erik. It is I who owe you an apology. Please accept my apology. I could not stop myself from teasing you because …."
Her trembling voice trailed off into silence. Erik turned his intense green eyes upon her.
"Why? Why would you act this way? Please, Christine. Tell me why? I need to know."
His words were quiet, gentle and sincere and their musical quality soothed her soul. She raised her eyes to his.
"Because I am afraid."
Her words drew him to her side and he knelt on the floor next to her bed. He tenderly parted her clenched fists and held one in each of his own. His eyes met hers and a hesitant smile crept across her mouth. He lifted her hands and turning them over, placed a soft kiss at the pulse point of each wrist.
"Are you afraid of me, Christine?"
She shook her head, which caused several tendrils of hair to escape her plaits. The curls bounced against her cheeks.
"No, Erik. It is not you that I fear. I fear the feelings you arouse in me. I have not allowed myself to feel anything for anyone in such a long time. It frightens me. I am sorry that I tried to push you away. Can you forgive me?"
"Oh, Christine. There is nothing to forgive."
"Thank you. Please be patient with me. I have spent the last 12 years avoiding speaking with people and I am not used to someone wanting to talk to me. I fear I may not be a very stimulating conversationalist."
Erik looked down at their joined hands and caressed the backs of her hands with the pads of his thumbs. A slightly wicked smile graced his mouth.
"But surely, my dear, you must realize that my presence is not in high demand on the social circuit. I, too, am unused to speaking with people and, yet, I find that we seem to be conversing rather well together."
She hesitated.
"But, why?"
Confused he responded.
"Why?"
She nodded.
"Why is it that you do not speak with many people? You are a kind, handsome, soft-spoken, considerate and intelligent man. I do not understand why you are unused to people."
He smiled.
"Ah, but that is because you are blind, my dear."
"Erik, I am not blind. My eyesight is perfect."
He sighed.
"It is not your eyes that are blind, but your heart. You do not judge me because of my twisted face. You see the person within. That is rare. Most people look no further than the flesh, so they find me to be a monster. You look upon me with the eyes of your soul and find a man."
She blushed and turned her head away in embarrassment.
"Christine? May I ask you something?"
She nodded.
"Would you accompany me on an outing to le Jardin de Luxembourg tomorrow? I thought we could bring a picnic lunch, go for a walk and I could show you my favorite fountain in Paris."
"Oh, Erik! Yes. I would love to go with you. Thank you for inviting me. What time should I expect you?"
"Would Noon be alright with you?"
"Noon would be wonderful!"
"Well, then, Noon it is. Now, I believe you need to get some rest and I should be leaving as Raoul is waiting for me. Until tomorrow, Christine."
"Until tomorrow, Erik."
Author's Note: Next up … the outing! Hope you like it. Please read and review! -ny