Finally! I'm sorry it took so long. Here is chapter two! This one is pretty big, and I worked very hard so please enjoy and review!
I awoke to find Erik sitting in his mighty chair watching the now dead embers in the hearth. Only when I stirred did he seem to pay me any heed, giving me a warm smile when I discovered to be wrapped in a thick quilt still upon the lovely sofa. He treated me to breakfast, and I learned that he was an accomplished cook, making anything I craved without even asking for an order. I was impressed, to say the least; however, I longed to sing not make timid comments on unseen weather.
Erik seemed to know my very thoughts. Picking up the soiled dishes and returning to take my hand, he led me to the back of the house and into the largest room yet, containing an imposing bronze organ and shining piano with enough space for three people to move comfortably about and never touch. Erik brought me to the bow of his piano, launching into my former scales without pause. When his hunger seemed sated, he opened a random opera score and flipped to a page without much apparent care. This, however, gave me the perfect chance to study him. Erik's gloved fingers stroked the ivory keys with loving purpose. His lips pressed into a small smirk that lit up his eyes with an inhuman dedication, as he hunted across countless combinations for the proper complement to my voice.
That warmth and spirit flowed into me when he looked up into my eyes with a sentence upon his seemingly perfect lips, but I was distracted by his mismatched gaze. What I had assumed a dark green or perhaps a brown were actually two different colors. I had never seen such eyes before, one blue and one green, hiding a twinkle of juvenile mischief in their depths. Erik's eyes had the same affect as the noble woman's from the day prior only on a much greater scale, pulling our very souls into one.
"I'm sorry, what did you say Ange?" My dreamy voice surprised me and warmth flooded my cheeks as I avoided his gaze. He was quiet for what felt like an eternity, finally clearing his throat and calling my name in a soft whisper enticing me to look back. "You missed your entrance, I understand this is a... 'New' experience for you; however, you need to place the music above your feelings. As I've said Christine, music is sacred, and I ask you not to treat it so haphazardly no matter if you sing to me in this weak vessel or upon the stage." The sudden reprimand brought tears to my blue eyes, but his words still echoed, and I refused to displease him any further, opening the music sheets I picked up from my aria in act 4.
After silently watching for the first several lines, Erik suddenly joined my voice with perfect precision on the large instrument, picking up the pace well past the tempo I read. I refused to show any surprise or emotion that did not pertain to my role, following his lead and I caught sight of what seemed a smirk on his partially hidden lips. How dare he? When I was attempting to impress him, and take his instruction to heart, he was amused! Rare determination and stubbornness blazed in my heart as the final note flew effortlessly from my tongue and my lips curled in satisfaction.
However, if my Angel was surprised, he hid it well only giving a terse nod as he closed the score and rose from his seat. His smugness irritated me, more so because I could not see his true expression and relied upon his mismatched eyes for details. Catching my huff of discontent, Erik chuckled. I watched as he adjusted his waistcoat and held out his hand for guidance; oh this angel is arrogant to believe I would meekly follow behind after such rough treatment. I started out without him, hopefully to the sitting room for a nice book and lounge by the fire.
I felt him follow behind me, silent and watchful. Perhaps as an angel Erik found humor in my womanly emotions. I felt my annoyance deflate as the warmth of the hearth caressed my skin, the fire pulling the faint cold of the underground from my bones. I nearly collapsed upon the sofa, exhaustion from my lessons pulling at me however; my unladylike actions received another chuckle not the gasp of indecency I had been expecting. "You Always look beautiful by the fire's light, Christine no matter your posture." I cast a weary smile up at Erik; he was looking upon my form with desire, a desire that coated love in a thick, black haze that frightened me with its potency and the shining gem of emotion it kept inside. I cast my eyes away from his form while a rush of pride flooded my veins to know my angel looked upon me with such emotions I had only dreamt of him possessing.
To my chagrin a gloved hand came to graze my chin, and a visible shiver washed through Erik, though he tried to hide it as a gentleman would. Shocked, I looked upon his masked face and found him studying me much as he had the forgotten sheets of music. Emerald and sapphire jewels slowly and deliberately traced along my jaw, cheeks, lips, and finally locked with my own eyes. With nervousness holding me in a hard grip, I could only manage a small smile. Erik's somewhat visible lower lip seemed to turn up in return.
My fingers reached up to touch his covered hand, causing him to gasp in pleasure. This gave rise to a dark urge inside of me, one I could not stop. Every inch of skin was hidden from my ravenous eyes, and cognitive thought was fleeting. Our hands traveled higher on one another's bodies, and Erik's cold touch curved into my cheek yet never gave the satisfying contact I longed for. My fingers danced across the fine material of his jacket coming to his shoulder. I pressed into his caress- enticing a low moan from his perfect lips- his eyes clouded in a haze of emotions I was unfamiliar with. My digits stroked his collar, fixing imagined creases. My true target was the stark white mask. I longed to see his face, hungered for it in the most primal part of my soul. 'My Erik.' Before I could remove the intruding article, Erik's body stiffened with agitation, and he sighed in what I took for disappointment. Suddenly his warmth abandoned my cheek, he shoved my hand back with disdain.
"Ange?" What had I done wrong? He opened his eyes with an almost pained expression, patting my hand before speaking. "Come, I should have shown you to your room. I have little doubt you'll want to refresh yourself from yesterday and change your gown. I apologize for not thinking of it sooner. I was only excited to have you in my home, you see. Can you forgive me, Christine?" His voice was heavy and dragged at my heart with every syllable. I would have done anything he asked with that tone but settled for an inclined head and followed after as he suddenly turned on his heel and took me down a shorter hallway. This hallway was barren, no door or turn to be seen in the soft light. The small flicker of doubt was put to rest as Erik came to a smooth halt. His long fingers pressed into the paper, and I was amazed as the wall moved, inviting me into its hidden room. Magic to be sure.
Erik bustled inside, lighting the lantern for my own comfort, as he seemed to prefer the dark. The room was heavenly; there were warm oranges and sweet pinks added in a seemingly sporadic way yet blending perfectly with the white furniture and creamy sheets of the large canopy bed that dominated the room. The bedroom brought a wave of nostalgia with the memories of my fathers bedtime tales. I walked about and could not help but noticed random items scattered around. On the vanity rested a silver bush and jewel-encrusted hand-mirror while upon a small table sat a book with a mark inside. Even more interesting yet was the wardrobe with white wood that was decorated in elaborate dark designs that flowed up its surface. When I pulled on the doors, I found it stuffed with a rainbow of colorful dresses and attire all in the finest materials, surely I would need to save my allowance for three years to buy even one of these.
I turned to find Erik waiting awkwardly in the doorway as he watched me. "This is amazing, Ange. Everything is perfect, but I can't imagine this is all for me. It's too much." He tilted his head in an oddly human expression of curiosity. "But, you do like it, don't you Christine?" I had to stifle a giggle at my teachers need to please me. At times when he was not exuding and overbearing power, he seemed no more than a little boy eager to show me what he could do. "Of cour-" he did not let me finish, "Then it's yours, Christine, anything you want."
This was unexpected, despite our previous encounter I had not expected to be doted upon like a lover. The very thought brought back fresh memories and a friendly blush. Again, it was Erik who pulled me into reality, pointing across the room to another door. "You'll find a powder room there, linens are inside, please take your time and rest." Then much like the heavenly being he was, he was gone without a second look. I spent the rest of the evening in my room, exploring every inch and item inside this paradise. The only thing missing was Erik's familiar presence. I forced myself to pretend that I felt nothing more than friendship for my protector. However, the very thought of catching his eyes caused my heart to sing its own song, doubtlessly in duet to his. Even when Erik was away from me, I still felt his presence in this house as if he was merely a whisper away.
My exploration took me to the bathroom, white tile and bronze accents gave the impression of true royalty. Plush towels and scented oils decorated the marble counter. I bathed in bliss, allowing my first experience of luxury to be free from the worries of my old life. I selected a darker purple gown for what I assumed was evening, and sat at the wooden vanity to brush my wet curls from my face. Looking into my own eyes, I saw the image of a wifely woman, preparing for an evening home with her husband. I pushed the thought away quickly: angels do not have wives. This realization shocked me. What did I believe would come from this union? Erik was my teacher yes, but it might be possible he was simply using humanly emotions in an effort to comfort me in this new environment. As I laid my head upon the soft down pillows and curled under the heavy blankets, I fell into an uneasy sleep fraught with thoughts of never being able to reach my Erik.
Music met me when I opened my heavy eyes, sleep had not yet given way to my conscious. Piano medleys playing a light harmony in the background called to me. When I recognized a note, it's companion took another unexpected turn, leading me down another tune and spinning off as soon as I found rhythm. The sounds were not as faint as I had echoing, traveling down the hallways and rooms of this magic house, and I joyfully followed after, dancing around the air like the ballerinas above in another world. The notes stole everything in leading me to Erik's music room, open to the house. Open to me.
I took the supposed invitation. Erik was facing away from me, seemingly unaware to my intruding upon his heavenly gift as he stroked the ivory keys like the most caring lover in a moment of passion. I approached his virtuosic form, and I noticed the first sight of his ungloved hands I had seen, long and as white as the surface they played upon. He seemed at peace here in ways I had never been witness to, his jacket undone and his tie thrown upon the bench beside him. The only thing unchanged was his mask, still it covered his face away from my curious view as he played from the depths of his soul. My fingers longed to pull the offending article away, so I could see his heavenly visage. I hoped we could be equal, not student and teacher, not as servant and angel, but as man and woman.
My eyes locked on the hem of the material as my hand darted and pulled the mask away. The music stopped as did time, my smile stuck and my mind blank. It was . . . wrong. His face was wrong. No heavenly crafted vision or golden sculpted angel. This was grotesque, pinks and whites contorting across taut skin pulled too tightly to sharp bone with a gaping whole where a nose should be. Horribly defined scars twisted and corrupted the ugly canvas into shreds of a gargoylian resemblance. My mouth fell open in horror at the sight of his bloated and stretched lips as he screamed, in pain or anger I did not care to know. Everything was collapsing around me for before me stood no angel sent by my father or lord. No, before me stood a man with a face unnatural and sickening. A second scream shook the foundation of my thoughts, but this one came from my lips. The monster before me stood with a speed my crumbling mind could not follow. His long fingers curled into my shoulders, and he ripped my body to press flush against his blocking my vision with his eyes. The once welcoming mismatched gems were clouded in rage and blood lust. Fear choked sound from my tight throat. For the first time in my life, I knew true terror.
My angel fell in shattered marble pieces, and stealing his place was a demonic fiend. The man shook me, my head snapped back and pain raced down my neck. In his fury and my disconnection with reality, I could not make out the words he shouted save my name in a pained and almost grieving tone. My mind bid me to flee, but the numbness in my arms and unrelenting hold of the man prevented any attempts. Suddenly he cast me to the floor, and I caught myself by my hands, pulling at the carpet, heaving my terrified body up into a mad dash for the open door. I had to flee from this monster. I needed to find Erik. Erik would protect me.
I ran through the house, caught like a ship at sea in its maze-like threshold, as frigid hands hunted after me. They would grip my hair, dress, or hand until I cried out and let me go just as quickly. I found myself close to my room and thanking whatever saint had found me here I fell inside slamming the door shut and locked into place.
Everything was silent as I sank to my feet and cried out to God, or anyone listening, to give mercy for a foolish child trapped with the devil.