Author's Note: As usual thanks for reading!
Trigger Warnings: sexual abuse
The real world was grey compared to Erik's home under the opera house. Browns and tainted whites filled her everyday world as she strived harder than she had ever before to impress the constant eyes upon her. Erik was still there every day, every hour, watching and guarding her as she continued to train. Out of respect, she did not ask him of his relationship with the opera house or how he came to know it so well, or why he alone was allowed to hide in his secret crevices to protect her as he wished. So they continued on as they had before, but now she knew his mortality and knew what it would mean if anyone found out about their strange relationship. In the hours of the day she was a ballerina, but in the evenings she was a singer. Erik led her down into his home, his cloak wrapped about her shoulders, where he fed her a dainty appetizer before he pushed her to sing for hours on end. Finally, with exhaustion heavy upon her waif of a body, he fed her a hearty meal before carrying her back to her rack in the dormitories.
She could never tell him, she realized, of the longing for his comfortable mattress or down pillows, or the touch of his hands upon her cheeks, or his lips upon her own. But she ached for these things more than she was willing to admit, so much that a heat filled her in the evenings and when she found the energy she pleasured herself to the thought of him taking her again and again. Christine could not help it, she had known such a friendliness from only Raoul before, and that had led to kisses and an engagement. But she would not end this the same way, she would not let her tainted soul ruin a relationship between a man who was offering her the world.
So each evening, when her little body fell upon the thin slip of a mattress in the dormitories, she grasped his hand with her much smaller ones and thanked him with a brush of her lips to his cool knuckles. Oh what bliss it was to feel skin beneath her lips! After he played the piano, he once revealed to her in confidence, he could not find it within himself to constrain his fingers within the hot leather. And so as he carried her back up to her bed, she reveled in his cool hands against what bit of skin he touched. A brush against her hot neck caused her to shiver against him and so he would grasp her body tighter to his own, to ward off the cold. The feeling of his large hands, those beautiful hands that danced across ebony and ivory keys, through the thick material of the dress he'd given her, was heaven on earth. Raoul's pleasant kisses were the last thing to come to mind as she fell asleep at night, and for that, she owed Erik even more.
The dormitories were stuffed full of other workers full of ambition, hoping to rise to the top while they struggled at the bottom. Christine found that she did not like the others staying there with her, they were mostly men, a group of young men away from home for the first time and a group of old men who sneered and leered at all other workers, especially the ballerinas. The young men were usually respectful enough, the odd few who called out to the ballerinas in the wings did so jokingly, and a few of them had even taken the girls out on the weekends. Christine did not know much about this, all of her knowledge of the young men was gained from what little she saw of Meg, as Christine was often too preoccupied to care much about gossip between the gangly men and the giggling ballerinas.
"You might have a chance with him, you know, he's been staring at you all of rehearsal." Meg whispered, one evening, as the girls stood clumped together on break, each one louder than the next as they discussed their weekend plans. Her blonde head was inclined toward a horribly gawky looking young man, maybe in his mid-twenties, with choppy blonde hair atop his crooked face. The only thing worse than the horrible crookedness of his nose was surely how shiny and greasy it looked, even from his distance in the wings where he stood watching them onstage. Upon gaining Christine's attention, he waved excitedly, thin arm raised high above his head and unsightly smile revealing cracked teeth. Christine had bedded worse, but had never planned to do so again.
"No thank you, Meg, I don't seem to have time for those sorts of distractions."
"Those sorts of distractions from what? A boy?" Christine had to contain her smile at the prospect of Erik being called a boy, no, she doubted he was ever boyish in his life.
"My career, Meg, perhaps you should pursue him instead." Meg, looking slightly offended at the idea when she had already so publically promised herself to a much more handsome fly technician, stalked away. Christine rolled her eyes at the low expectations Meg assumed her to have, but tried not to think on it as more than Meg's impossible competitiveness for attention that Christine was more than happy to let her win. Her eyes wandered, of their own regard, to Box Five. It looked empty to every other person in the theatre but Christine could feel the burn of his eyes upon her skin as he watched and critiqued, she wondered how much he could hear, if he was proud of her commitment to the craft she'd promised herself to.
"Dearie, you're in my way." It was a snarl from Buquet, one of the older men who worked on the fly system, a terrible man who reeked of sweat and booze. His grubby hand reached out and grazed the white of her rehearsal skirt, sending her tittering backwards on the stage, only then realizing that she was a lone ballerina amongst a group of technicians. They had probably gone off to lunch as she stared, entranced by the velvet curtains of Box Five that were tauntingly still.
"Apologies." He muttered through a sneer.
Her white skirt flounced, revealing more skin to the men she passed, as she raced into the wings in hopes of finding the rest of the girls. They had an hour for lunch and often they dressed and went out for coffee, she wasn't invited often but when she was, she found she quite liked the refreshing drink along with the fresh air. It wasn't often she was given the chance to spend time in the outside world, so she enjoyed the opportunity when given. The feeling of the male gaze stayed upon her as she traveled up the staircase toward the dormitory, but she could not find it within her to glance behind to see who was following. Whoever it was would have to leave when she changed, regardless, so she simply hurried along, fingers grazing the railing of the winding staircase until she reached the familiar door to her makeshift home. As she reached out for the rusted nob, she felt herself moving backwards before her brain was able to comprehend what was happening.
The grimy fingers of Buquet were snug upon her mouth as she was slapped backwards against the wall of the dark corridor, tears springing to her eyes at the immediate pounding headache she felt upon impact. Panic rose quickly, heart pounding as his bloodshot eyes traveled the length of her body with a snigger.
"Lovely, lovely, lovely, aren't we?" His free hand trailed the length of her thigh, up beneath her skirts, his heavy body pressed against hers so she was unable to do much more than thrash against his brute weight. Tears rolled quickly as she acted upon instinct, biting his dirty hand, only to receive a harsh slap across the cheek that sent her head against the brick wall once again. The corridor spun for a moment before she was able to focus on him in outright terror, the feeling of his pudgy fingers trailing across her tights sending disgusted ripples across her skin.
"Right, you'll shut the fuck up, give me a li'l suck and we'll see what happens from there, aye?" The smell of onions pervaded her nostrils and she felt her head spinning, unable to keep the flashbacks from flooding to the surface as tears flooded her cheeks and wetted his hand across her mouth. Horrible men that dug their nails into her scalp, even worse ones who held her against their thighs until she swallowed. She wanted to gasp for air, but was unable to and was growing dizzier by the moment as she realized he had released her thigh as he was working at his belt buckle.
"Bitch, you answer me when you're spoken to!" His grubby fingers pinched at her breast through her leotard, amazingly finding her nipple and giving a horrible squeeze that forced a screech of agony from her throat. In his fury, he tossed her to the ground, her hearing was lost as she stared up in horror, unable to look away as he moved to mount her, his horrible hairy stomach a much more pleasant sight than the grisliness between his legs. Her sight was flooded and she was helpless as he pressed his weight upon her forcing her against the damp ground, fighting with her to spread her legs as she attempted to clutch her knees shut with her mouth prepared to scream, when a great shadow was cast upon their tangled bodies. Shock and embarrassment poured over her as she realized exactly what the shadow meant, tears flooded even harder as Buquet was removed from her shaking limbs and she looked away as her angel dragged the man into the shadows.
She could not hear or talk or think, she only sat and waited in the darkness, entire body trembling as she laid sprawled in the corner. The pounding of her head was making her heartbeat echo through her skull, creating a rhythm that Erik walked in time with as he stepped closer and closer to her body. All of her senses told her to cower away from him, to retract her spread legs into a curled position and wait for all men to forget about her existence until she could crawl to her bed. But she did not. Her body flung itself at him instead, recognizing his voice and warmth but not taking in anything he said. The world was spinning around her and the flickering of the candles upon the walls were making her sick to her stomach, her face and neck were wet, she was freezing and curled close to the body carrying her. Gentle hands combed through her hair as incomprehensible words were sung softly into her ear as they travelled, before she felt herself reaching up toward him, the world slowly coming into focus in the darkness as her gasps for breath slowed.
Small hands came to rest upon his cheeks, the covered one cool and other bare and hot beneath her fingers, before she desperately pressed her lips upon his. They stopped moving and she realized for the first time that they were moving down towards his home, as his soft lips slowly reacted against hers. It only made her feel more wanton and useless to know that this kiss was not her first to give, oh but she wished it could have been. She wanted to give all of her firsts to Erik, he deserved every first of anything she had to offer, but she couldn't. Wishing horribly that she could retract every part of her soul that she had whored away for money and give it all to Erik, but knowing she could not, caused her the greatest pain imaginable. The tears were cascading down, tangling in her curls, falling upon his lapel, as their kiss grew more passionate. A heat sprung through her at the feeling of his tongue softly begging for entrance and she could not deny him, not when she wanted this so badly for so long. Oh what it was like to kiss an angel! Erik pulled away with a gasp; still holding her in his shaking arms as her weak hands slowly relinquished his face. They stared at each other for quite some time, hearts pounding loudly as they squinted in the dark to study the other's eyes.
"Did you mean that kiss? Or was that your way of thanking me?" The insult was not intended, she reassured herself, but it ached to know he would always remember her past.
"I wanted it…I meant it, I'm sorry that was inappropriate-" A gasp was lost in the darkness as her feet were released, and he crushed her chest to his own, curled toes dangling above the ground as he pressed her tight against the wall. Passion swelled as he delved his hands into her knotted hair, moaning to feel her kisses at his chin and neck in the darkness. When she had started wanting him, she did not know, but oh how she wanted.
"Let me take you home." She turned, expecting to head in the direction of which they came and for a formality to come over them as he straightened up to fix his cloak, but she smiled as he scooped her back into his arms and continued forward into the darkness. The throbbing in her head did not subside, the shaking of her limbs continued on, the utter humiliation of Erik having seen her with Buquet brought an unrelenting blush to her bruised cheeks, but she grinned as she stared up at the half-hidden face of her tutor as he stared straight ahead. He was taking her home.
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