A/N: So, here's a good enough time as any to interject a little pro-me thing. Haha. I've also got several other stories that I would love to have more reviews and thoughts on. Also, on the sister site to , , I will be posting a story I've been working on that I hope to one day turn into a book and really really really want opinions on. Just think! If it does get published, you could have an input on the final product! And I promise you, it is much more edited than this is. Anyway, it will be under the same pen name (xo-little-lotte-xo). Come check me out!
"Come," he said simply, taking her hand and leading her through the mirror. As normal, she was so entranced by him, that she hardly remembered the trip down to the fifth cellar. She was far too caught up in his face, in his body, in his warmth.
Down through the catacombs, into shadows, deeper and deeper, then rising again. She could only rarely find her way to his home under the opera house without getting lost. Thankfully, she usually did not have a reason to wander alone to find Erik. He was always there when she needed him to be.
She was distracted by light. She knew instinctively that they could not have reached the fifth cellar that quickly. When things began to make more sense, she realized they were actually very close to outside. Confused, but loyal, she followed Erik out into what turned out to be a stable.
Erik's beautiful black horse waited patiently for his master.
"We will need some help getting to our destination," he explained to Christine's bewildered expression.
"And where exactly is our destination?" Christine asked, feeling the excitement mounting.
"That, my love, you will have to wait and see," he said, lifting her effortlessly onto the giant horse. Erik did not use a saddle, only a blanket, and Christine knew that was purely for her own comfort. Erik rode without anything more than a very simple bridle.
She sat sideways on the shoulders of the horse, giving Erik plenty of room to gracefully swing himself in behind her.
He briefly closed his eyes to savor the feel as she leaned back into his arms and rested her head against his chest. He wrapped an arm around her waist, not so much to keep her safe, but to keep her as close as possible.
He was sure he looked like a demon stealing an angel as they rode off into the night. More than once as they got further from the city he let the horse lead and took to leaning over Christine to capture a kiss.
Once, during one such kiss, his hand traveled up her stomach to graze lightly across her chest. Her moan was nearly his undoing. It took all his superhuman strength to just stay on the horse. He was thankful that they were past the city and in the fairly secluded area by that time. Someone was bound to report them otherwise. The monster abducting the damsel.
In the daylight, he was sure it was look beautiful, but at night, at night it was positivity breathtaking. Rolling green hills with houses tucked back and away from sight. Gardens upon gardens grew in seemingly every direction. Roses of each color intermingled with patches of lilies and orchids. But not even a sight as impossibly wonderful as was surrounding him could begin to compare to the woman he held in his arms. The moon itself paled in comparison. It seemed as though it were reflecting off of her porcelain pale skin and golden gown instead of the other way around.
She looked like a goddess. An unearthly entity who chose to inhabit the form of a simple girl. His Persephone, goddess of spring and light, loved unsurpassed by the god of the underworld and darkness.
He stopped the horse when they came to the end of the dirt road. Christine turned around to look at him. "Why are we stopping?" she asked, still taking in the sights around her.
"Because we're here," he said, sliding off the horse and catching her in his arms as she did the same.
"Where is here?" she asked, the moon catching the lighter colors of her rich, chocolate brown hair, giving her an ethereal glow.
Most of the stars had been blocked out by clouds, but the moon shone unhindered for no more apparent reason than to be her heavenly spotlight.
"I'll show you," he said, taking her hand and laying it on his arm as they stepped through an old wooden gate.
"Are you sure the owner won't mind us walking here?" she asked, always aware of other people's feelings.
Erik chuckled. "Yes, I'm quite sure he will not mind."
They left the horse to graze in the vast open green of the yard. There was a stone path they followed through the slightly overgrown grass. Trees dotted the extensive grounds and Christine noted with delight that a few had benches below them. She loved nature and it brought her joy to see that whomever owned this fine area also enjoyed sitting beneath trees and looking at the beauty around them.
When the house came into view, Christine had thought she had been transported to a dream. There, in front of her was the most perfect house she had ever seen in her life. Large, but not so grandiose that it was unlivable. It was more like a very extensive cottage that should belong on the hills of Florence, not hidden away here where no one would ever see. It was a perfect little haven. She found herself quite jealous of the person fortunate enough to call this home.
"Oh Erik! Is this not the most beautiful sight you have ever seen?" She exclaimed with delight.
Erik smiled as he watched expression cross her face. It made his heart soar to see her so happy. "I can think of only one sight more beautiful."
Christine held onto Erik's arm to stop him as he began to walk towards the front door. "Erik, aren't the owners at home?" she said, worried that somehow he had forgotten that you couldn't just go walking into someone's house, no matter how beautiful.
Erik turned towards her and gave a soft and tender kiss. Before pulling away and while their lips were only a heart beat from each other, he whispered, "They are now."
Christine pulled away, her brow wrinkled in confusion at his statement.
"But Erik, we're the only ones-"
Her sentence was interrupted by her audible gasp as Erik held up a key and dawning began to settle on her. "Oh Erik! You didn't...?"
"Yes. I did," he said, holding his breath as to what the tears in her eyes meant. "Christine?" Erik asked, slightly concerned now.
When she still did not answer, he took her face in his hands. "Christine, do you like it? It's yours. I bought it, thinking only of you."
Christine's mouth hung slightly open, the only sign of life was her occasional blinking.
"Christine, please say something. Anything. Tell me you hate me if you like, but please just say something," Erik pleaded.
"I don't know what to say," she admitted. Her voice sounded distant to her. Unnatural. "I've never been more happy in my entire life," she said as the tears finally spilled over and ran down her face.
"Then why are you crying?" he asked, desperately brushed away every tear.
"Don't worry," she said, finally smiling so brightly, it seemed like noon instead of close to midnight. "they're happy tears. Very happy tears."
Erik gathered her close to him and buried his face in her chocolate curls. "So you like it then?"
"No Erik, I don't like it," she said, feeling him stiffen in her arms. She quickly finished her sentence. "I love it. I adore it. I adore you."
Erik crushed his lips to hers with such a force that it caught her off guard and she nearly stumbled backwards. Erik, of course, kept his arms around her, safely pulled to him.
Christine gasped at the sensation as Erik ran his tongue over the seam of her lips. Christine had heard Meg speak of this, but to her it had sounded disgusting. She had to admit, with Erik, she could kiss like that every time.
It was a new experience for the both of them, but it did not take long to learn. Erik kept one hand tangled in her hair while the other was pressed against the small of her back, melding them together. Christine moaned subconsciously as she felt the evidence of Erik's passions.
His hand on her back lowered slightly, grabbing more than a handful of material. Damned if he wasn't ready to ripe that dress off her right then and there. So help him if she moaned again, he wasn't going to be able to stop himself.
"Christine..." Erik's voice was hoarse as he forced himself to pull away from his ultimate temptation. "We must stop, love. Before I don't have the strength to."
He put his hands on her waist and held her away from him, causing her to groan in protest. Both were breathing heavily and Erik had to force his hands in his pockets to keep them off her. Christine, likewise, twisted her skirts in her fingers. She knew he was right, but she also knew that she wouldn't have stopped him. Something deep in her called to him. Called for his touch.
"Perhaps we should go for a walk before we go inside," he suggested. He had to cool off and he wouldn't be able to do that while he gave Christine a tour of the bedrooms. It would be far too enticing. Granted, there was very little furniture in the house yet. There was very little anything yet, but he couldn't wait another day to show her. And he was very glad he hadn't.
Christine nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. They walked towards the gardens, the cool night air doing little to help the temperature they both had been heated to.
Christine was sure they looked comical, with both their arms crossed over their chests, walking quickly in no general direction. Neither one talking and certainly not touching. To the random stranger, they would look like they were having an argument instead of fighting their basic instincts to latch on to each other.
She wasn't sure how long they had been walking when she felt the first drop of rain. They both instantly stopped and turned to each other, eyes wide. They had both been so busy avoiding touching each other that they hadn't noticed the thick clouds rolling in.
Before either could utter the words, "Uh oh," the skies opened up and began to downpour. Erik grasped Christine's hand as they turned and made a run for the house. The clouds unleashed their full fury. Wind, lightening and thunder completed the orchestra of heaven as the two soles dashed as quickly as they could through yard, realizing just how far they had walked.
It was Christine that started laughing about half way there. All the emotions she had experienced in this night came spilling out and she had to stop running to clutch her side and she nearly doubled over in laughter.
Erik couldn't help but join at the sight and sound of his beloved Christine, but he also knew that they needed to get in the safety of the house. He scooped her up and carried her like a child the rest of the way. Both were so drenched, that it was really pointless to run. It wasn't like they could become any more soaked.
When Erik finally managed to get the door unlocked, he set Christine down by the door and went to start a fire in the main room. Christine's laughter turned to giggles and then slowly faded away into a contented smile.
The inside of the house, if possible, was more grand than the outside. There wasn't much in it yet, so it seemed so vast. The entry room that she was standing in now was tall, showing up to the second floor chandelier that hung overhead. A great spiral staircase was just in front of her, she wasn't sure if it was the night that was deceivingly her, but it appeared to be made of marble. In face, despite the cottage appearance of the outside, the inside was a delicately interwoven mix of antique, dark oak wood and thoroughly modern looking white marble. It was like nothing she had seen before, and it had not yet sunk in that it was theirs. That she would live in this beautiful home until she was a wrinkled old woman.
The rain pounding against the roof sounded like little feet running and she pictured children running through the halls, laughing and playing. Their children. She could so easily see her and Erik raising a family and growing old in this home. In fact, she couldn't think of a place she would want to be at more, or a person she would rather be with.
The thought of Erik caused her blood to stir again as she caught a glimpse of the warm glow of flames from the room to her right.
"Christine?" Erik's voice called to her, but she purposefully did not answer. She wanted him to come to her. Something had been awakened in her. A temptress who demanded to have her way. And Christine allowed herself to become this seductive tempest with great, wild abandon.
Erik came around the corner, holding a candle for light. He stopped dead in his tracks. His smile instantly faded and he swallowed hard. There stood his Christine, soaking wet. Her hair was just a mass of drenched tangles and her skin was so alluring. But was captured his attention was the fact that her beautiful yellow dress was entirely see through when wet.
Every curve, every movement was completely exposed as she shifted her weight, leaning against the door. Her nipples were hard from the cold and stood out against the tight fabric. His throat went dry and his jaw clenched. His hands began to shake and he had to set the candle down before he dropped it.
"Christine..." Her name was a warning. The only one he would give her. The elegant and always in control Erik vanished. And the man in his place was primitive, possessive, and in desperate need of his woman.
Christine was doing nothing to help the situation. She beckoned him with a finger and like a sultry devil whispered, "Come to me, my angel of music. Come and claim me for your own."