Neither could deny that there was something beautiful in being able to be themselves with one another. Gangle didn't feel the need to wear the collar of his long coat turned up conceal his neck and Fleck didn't need to wear long dresses that hit the floor to hide the legwear she had to endure. The spent nearly every evening of the week together, while at day they spent their hours together, performing for crowds that their master drew in.
"It is finally becoming something. Something other than a freak show, something akin to a theatre."
"A theatre of the macabre." Meg added, watching Fleck and Gangle perform on stage. She could hardly watch them.
"Meg dear," Madame Giry started, patting her daughter's leg, "do you see that gentleman right over there?"
She nodded, "The handsome one in the blue suit?"
"No. There."
Meg looked where her mother pointed, noticing a slightly heavier set, middle aged man. She nodded.
"Good, now Meg, he is the manager of development here in New York and we desperately need him to approve of the Master's plans."
"Well, if you could make him feel satisfied with our ideas, it could work to our benefit."
Meg gulped, looking down at her scantily clad costume. The feathered skirt came to just above her knees, her legs extenuated by high heels, and a top that reminded her of Hannibal. "Of course mother." What man would deny that Meg was sent as an offering? She was no smooth talker, but where her talking was rough, her skin was smooth.
~o~
"Our little Gustave is six months old today!" Raoul reminded Christine. He settled himself onto the bed beside his beautiful wife as she nursed their young child. "It is remarkable how quickly time is passing." Despite his gentle words there was an underlying disappointment in the time that had passed. Christine had grown romantically distant from him, she seemed little interested in him. He had consulted close friends of him who had assured him that a few months after childbirth a wife would return to her former self. But Christine had not.
"Half a year old." Christine smiled, watching as Gustave nursed. "He is such a handsome little boy."
"Just like his father?" Raoul asked teasingly.
Christine looked up at him slowly, "I would not think you so little and boyish. But handsome… yes." The words were hard to say, hard to say with the knowledge of the real father. "What is wrong, Raoul, you look troubled?"
"I will tell you once Gustave's been put back to bed." Raoul replied, resting back against the bed. They'd been married well over a year and had been a faithful husband, unlike many men he knew. He had been frustrated with her marital negligence but he had done nothing about it. He had been patient with her. He had always been patient with her.
Christine carried on with nursing Gustave until the sleepy little baby unattached himself and started to drift to sleep. Christine carefully lifted him into her arms and carried him across the room, placing him into his crib. She returned, straightening out her gown before sitting down on the bed once more. "Now what is that you wish to talk of?"
"We have been married for nearly a year and a half-" Raoul started.
"I haven't forgotten!" Christine giggled childishly, moving closer to him and resting a loving arm across his chest. "They have been fifteen months of joy."
"But have I been the one to bring you joy?" Raoul questioned, placing his hand over hers on his chest. "Or has it been Gustave? You pay me little mind and I dare to say that you do not comprehend the torture that it has been for me."
"Oh, Raoul, it cannot be so very bad." Christine pursed her lips, "I have not felt that romance is lacking from us."
"But I have Christine. If you took the time to inquire on my feelings perhaps you would know." Raoul pushed her hand away from his chest.
Christine sat up quickly on the bed, tucking her legs beneath her bottom. She crossed her hands across her chest and stared at Raoul. "I do ask of you. I constantly ask of you."
"But do you care about my feelings, my emotions, my desires?" Raoul grabbed her arms in a hasty move. "I am tired of your cat and mouse game. You lay beside me like my wife, you kiss my lips like my wife, and yet you keep me at a distance which would bring me such pain. I patiently waited for you to consent to our marital bed and now you deny your love again."
Christine's eyes opened wide as Raoul's grip tightened. "I did not mean to hurt you Raoul, really, I did not. It's just… I'm terrified of all these duties that my life here consists of. Raoul, I'm frightened of having another child. I am so cautious with Gustave, I dote upon him and care for him so thoroughly. I am afraid to do the slightest thing wrong. Please Raoul. This also scares me so. You cannot expect me to be at ease."
"I expect you to be at ease as my wife. I expect you to want to be my wife. But I find that you have no interest in me. Where was the girl at the Opera Populaire who was so ready and willing to be my wife? So quick to lavish me with sweet kisses and gentle caresses? Where has she gone? And why did she leave such a timid beast in her wake?" Raoul growled, letting go of Christine and rising from the bed. "You try my patience."
"Please Raoul." Christine begged, following after him with tears running down her cheeks. "Please, please."
Gustave started to cry and she hesitated, looking between Raoul and the crib.
"Go ahead, tend to the child. Don't try to save your marriage." He headed towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Christine asked desperately. She moved to the crib, quietly shushing the baby. "Please Raoul, come back to bed and please I don't want to argue with you."
"No." Raoul snapped, wheeling around and watching Christine as she was lifting Gustave from the crib. "I am going out. I should like to drown away my sorrows."
"Raoul please."
"No." He slammed the door, the sound sending Gustave and Christine into a fit of tears and weeping. Christine could not understand why this had all transpired. She had thought that she had been a good wife and a good mother.
Had she come to be unmovable past the knowledge of Gustave's birth? Was that blocking her relationship with Raoul? Was her Phantom still seeking to possess her as his and only his? Perhaps a spirit as his name sake said? Come back to haunt the woman that he loved and the child that he would never know?
~o~
A/N: I have a tumblr if you'd like to follow, PM me, and I will give you my user name. Also, midterms this week. I'm writing this as I watch Jane Eyre for my BritLit class and alternating between history memorization.