Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera, or any of the characters.
Chapter Six
"The rotten viper…that vile, no good woman. After all I've given her…And this," Erik held up the silver chain, "this is how she repays me," he spat. He sat in a small room next to Christine's room, the swan's head visible out of the corner of his eye. If he concentrated hard enough, he could still see her lying there. He closed his eyes.
A small feeling rumbled in the pit of his stomach, slowly making it's way up his throat, and into his eyes. Tears streamed down his face, smearing the black make-up from his costume, which he still sported. His hand searched for the glass holding the strong smelling liquid. He opened eyes, seeing the swan again. Rage swarmed through him as he let out a loud growl, throwing the glass against the wall.
His scarlet cape suddenly became unbearable to wear, and he began to sweat under all the heavy fabric.
"Perhaps a bath would calm my nerves," he grumbled, peeling off the wretched costume.
"Why must it be so dim in here? You'd think he'd put more candles-OW!" She rubbed her right foot, pain searing from the bottom, up. She'd stabbed it into something extremely sharp; she realized this when she tried to touch it. A damsel put into a situation like this, would undoubtedly give up and walk no further until someone came to help her, but Christine was determined to get to Erik and straighten things out, even if she died trying.
Limping into the darkness, she moved on.
Once at the entrance to the lake, she froze. There was no boat. Panic rose out of nowhere, and a slight sweat broke out on her forehead. She glanced around desperately for anything that would keep her afloat. Fortunately, God had taken pity for the girl as she spotted an old, tiny wooden boat inches away from the dock.
Once inside, she prayed to God to give her the strength to row to her lover.
He lay with his head resting on the edge of the white tub, breathing in the scent of sandalwood. His mask was still on; he didn't dare take it off even in the privacy of his own bath.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he sensed her presence. He sighed, swallowing down his anguish before it resurfaced as tears.
"Why are you here?" he whispered. She fiddled with her fingers, looking down guiltily. She swallowed down the lump residing in her throat.
"I came here to apologize."
"Oh?"
"A-and to explain about the ring, and Raoul-"
"Do not say his name while you are in my domain, and don't fret, there is no need to explain. Your actions are shouting louder throughout this opera house than your words can. You've made your choice; now leave me to die alone, as fate intended me to."
"Erik, I-I came here for one purpose and one alone: to tell you, explain to you, and I will not leave until I have." He remained quiet, and she limped forward an inch.
"I hadn't heard from you for months, and I went with him out of pure weakness, for my angel was nowhere to be seen, to hold me up. I do not love him Erik, I never have and I shan't ever. I love you, and I am truly, truly sorry for my moment of weakness."
"It wasn't a moment Christine, it lasted a few months. That was more than a moment."
"Well you simply vanished without so much as a good-bye, without so much as an I love you!"
"I was about to tell you, if that bastard hadn't showed up to ruin everything like he always-"
"The only one ruining everything is you! Who gives a damn about what he thinks! I would've run away with you if you'd just told me right then and there! You've had so many chances, yet you've blown them all away. You're a coward-"
Anger had found its soul mate once again as he sprang out from the bath, glaring at her. Never paying any mind to the fact that he'd been naked in a bath the entire time, she blushed instantly, her eyes locking onto his manhood. He didn't seem to notice or care at the moment, and pointed at her.
"Don't you dare call me a coward! If anyone is a coward, it's that fop of a man that you agreed to marry for stealing another man's love! A real man would've found that on his own!" His breathing was ragged, yet it stopped as he noticed a slight draft, and looked at her face. She was staring at his…
"It is not polite to stare, Christine," he said flatly, covering himself with a nearby towel.
"I-forgive me, it's just that it's so-so…big." He turned away, smiling to himself, then remembered who was in the room and grimaced.
"Perhaps you should leave; we wouldn't want your precious fiancé to worry." He turned to face her, and saw her limping to him, her expression now turned to hopeful rather than upset.
"Not until you tell me what I want to hear."
"Why are you limping?"
"Never mind that. Tell me what I need to hear."
"Christine, your foot-" She covered his mouth with her hand, then cupped his face, gazing deep into his never ending eyes.
"Tell me." All the anger he'd built up came crumbling down as her hands caressed him. He stared into her eyes, an ocean flooding his heart. All he'd ever lived for was her, and he'd be a damn idiot if he let her go for the sake of a mistake. He'd come too far. She loved him, didn't she? He couldn't fool anyone; he loved her and could never hold a grudge on her for too long. Reason had at last found its way out as he told her,
"I love you, Christine." Then, the most radiant smile he'd ever seen erupted onto her features, melting his iron heart. He leaned in, stealing her breath in a deep, sensual kiss. His tongue parted her lips, exploring every region of her mouth. She moaned ever so softly, making him tighten his embrace around her. Thinking it might last forever, he pulled apart, still concerned.
"Now, your foot," he smiled. Dazed, she simply nodded lazily, oblivious to what he was doing, and awoke to find herself on a cushioned swan bed.
"Now, Mademoiselle, how did this happen?" he asked, pulling out a small nail from the bottom of her foot. She gasped, clenching her fists into the sheets.
"I hurt it trying to get to you."
"Brave girl," he cooed as he wrapped her foot gently. "All done love." He rubbed the top of her dainty dancing tool, making her groan.
"That feels nice, Erik," she purred. The sound of her voice and her small groans began to penetrate his mind, sending small messages throughout his body. His hands travelled further up her leg, massaging her calf. Small moans escaped from her lips, and he shut his eyes, forbidden images sprouting up in his mind. His hand moved up to her knee, and she purred. That was all it took.
He gazed down in horror as his member began to rise, her moans the music to his snake. The fact that he merely wore a towel was absolutely no consolation whatsoever. He stopped touching her, looking around for anything to hide it. As luck would have it, it was too late.
"Erik, why have you stopped-Erik!" she blushed, turning away.
"Oh, please forgive me, it's just that your breath, and the way you sigh-"
"Please, don't explain, I understand. Please calm down," she said, slowly turning to face him. His hands were hanging at his sides, and despite the panic she knew he felt, his face remained calm. She stared at it, scared yet utterly curious.
"Is-is that what I do to you, Erik?" It looked like she was talking to his member rather than him, he smiled, trying not to chuckle at the thought.
"Yes. This is what you do to me. And if I may be as bold as to say that this isn't the first time you've done this."
"I have done this to you before?"
"Yes, many times." She finally tore her eyes away, and stared into his amber eyes. Without any shred of shyness, she asked him.
"May I see it?"
"You have already seen it."
"Not when it is hard. Elizabeth told me it looks different hard." He chuckled at her innocence. After a moment of thought, he nodded slowly, and stood to remove the towel, revealing his proud friend. Her eyes widened.
"It's even bigger now!" For some reason, he felt awkward standing there before her with his organ in midair.
"May I touch it?"
"What?"
"Oh, may I touch it please?" She batted her eyelashes, smiling. Reluctantly, he nodded. Walking over to him, she kneeled down, and slowly placed her hand on it.
'She is going to be the death of me…' he thought.
TBC…Up next, they finally…well they do the deed. ;