Revelations Chapter 2, a phantom of the opera fanfic

Thank you all so much for the wonderful comments! As promised, here is part 2.

A/N—Erik reflects on marriage.

The Usual Disclaimer—these characters are not mine, belonging as they do to the heirs of M. Leroux, to Sir A. L. Webber and the RUG, and to Susan Kay. I thank them for the privilege of their use. All errors are unfortunately mine, and for that, I do apologize.

Please read and review.

Revelations, Redux

He has learned of softness, the feel of ribbons slipping through his fingers, of curls brushing his wrist like feathers, of silk charmeuse and satin.

That a whisper in the dark can be more intense than a shout.

He has learned the sweet velvet of her mouth, the caress of soft hands, the satin of her skin.

That her eyes cannot help but betray her thoughts, that the wild-rose blush means she is thinking of him, of them.

He has learned of her strength, her stubborn refusal to hear the word no, her willful disobedience of his wishes when he wants only to drown in the black well of despair that floods his soul.

That he would move the earth to be the man she thinks he is.

He has learned of guilt, and regret, and shame, but also that the past is unchangeably the past.

That the piano and violin can also sing with a voice of joy.

He has learned the mysteries of the flesh, that she is satin and steel, willing and stubborn, adventuresome and shy. He wonders what she would look like, bare in the candlelight, what would be in her face, what she thinks about in the dark when lying with him.

That she likes her tea sweetened, her coffee with cream, that champagne makes her eyes sparkle.

He has learned that she smells of lavender and roses, honey and vanilla.

That she does not know he knows she dreams of walks in the park, of dinner parties, of dances, of a babe in her arms. That she will never say these things aloud. That he wishes it was in his power to give them to her.

He has learned to accept that she loves him, though he cannot understand why. He wonders how much she has guessed, what he has said when the nightmares come.

That she somehow sees him; not his face, not his past, not his scars.

He has learned she will return to him.

That her touch brings joy, not pain. That his touch can bring pleasure instead of death.

He has learned that it is somehow possible to go on breathing, when your heart is five stories above you, in the light.

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