A/N: Here we are.. Another chapter and I am caught up in this story with my notebook. Just have to catch up in my other story, Music of the Soul, and I won't be able to brainlessly type anymore. I'll actually have to think! Lol. Hope you enjoy.
Chapter Thirty-three
Come Morning Light
Darcey's fever had finally broken at about five in the morning. He had managed to get her to drink water a couple times through out the night. He had been very careful not to get her too cold. After being up all night with her, getting cool cloths for her forehead, and bathing her face and arms in cool water when she got overly warm, he was very tired. Now she was well and all he wanted to do was sleep. He sat down heavily on the chair next to the bed and had just closed his eyes when he felt a gentle hand on his knee. He forced his eyes open to see her looking at him with concern.
"Come lay down," she whispered. She scooted over and lifted the blankets for him. He went gratefully and sank down heavily next to her. His eyes closed instantly. He felt his arm being lifted up and then she was in his arms. He smiled, kissed her now cool forehead, pulled her closer, and fell asleep. It didn't take even a full minute for her to follow suite.
She was startled awake two hours later by someone knocking on the door. "Darcey! Are you alright?" Meg and Nadilee's voices were heard.
Erik chuckled, his eyes still closed. "So much for no one bothering us," he murmured.
"What are we going to do? The door is locked, right?"
"Afraid to be caught with a man in your bed?" he asked, sending color to her otherwise pale cheeks. "I locked the door. I suggest trying to go back to sleep."
Outside the door, Mme. Giry's voice was heard. "What did I tell you girls? I told you to leave her alone and what do you do? You go and bother her. She needs rest if she is to recover. She has been well cared for. You can see her later. Now shoo! Go on, go!" There was a short pause before she spoke again. "If I just lied, so help me Erik."
Erik chuckled and Darcey couldn't help but smile. "I wonder what she would have done..." he murmured, amusement evident in his voice. "A pity I will never know..."
He yawned and Darcey placed a finger on his mouth when he started to speak again. "Shh. You need rest too. You were up all night with me." He chuckled and kissed her finger.
"As you wish, Mademoiselle." He yawned and pulled her close against his chest. She spread her fingers out so her hands were flush against his skin. It was so warm and she could feel the muscles tense when she first touched him before relaxing. She sighed. She loved the feel of his arms around her. As she studied him, she found her gaze pulled towards his mouth. How she wished he would kiss her again. As his breathing evened out and he fell asleep, she couldn't help but let her hands wander. One went to his back to feel the scars there. The other went to his face and she traced the lines she found there. The edge of his mask, his jaw, and finally allowed her finger to trace his mouth. He stirred and before she could move, his eyes opened. She blushed to have been caught.
"I'm sorry," she whispered and pulled away. Or rather she would have pulled away had his hand not encircled her wrist.
"Don't be," he whispered. He kissed each of her fingers before letting go, giving her silent permission to continue her exploration of the contours of his face. She hesitantly moved her finger down, drawing a line to his chin. Then she once again followed the path along his jaw to reach his ear and continue along his hair line before going down his nose and reaching his mouth again. She then made a slower course matching the first but on the right side. She hesitated, her fingers at the edge of his mask at his forehead as if wanting to pull it off. She sighed before moving her hand to cup his left cheek. "Are you afraid of what you might see? Of the horror that is my face?" he whispered, hurt coloring his voice.
She shook her head. "I am not afraid of you. I'm afraid of telling you what happened to me." she said, avoiding eye contact.
Erik recalled the promise they had mad to each other. He would show her his face and she would tell him her story. He had the sudden feeling to show her his face. He had no idea why but as he saw her struggling, he wanted to be brave for her and show her his face. He reached for both of her hands and held them in his before taking a deep breath. "I can wait," he whispered before placing her hands on his mask.
"Are you sure? You don't have to show me yet." He swallowed, nodded, and let go of her hands. He saw admiration in her eyes before she pushed her fingers under the edge of the mask and gently pried it off. Erik had to force himself to not close his eyes. He needed to see her reaction. He watched as she lifted herself up and placed the mask on the table before settling back down. He flinched slightly when she touched him. He was unable to read her expression as she used her fingers to lightly turn his face towards a faint beam of light as well as to explore the uneven surface of the right side of his face. He was surprised when she kissed his ruined cheek and felt moisture on his face when she rested hers against his. She was crying. She trailed soft kisses along his face as she pulled away. She didn't bother to wipe away her tears but instead was searching his eyes for answers. "Why do you hide?"
"Because it hurts to see people terrified by the mere sight of your face. My own mother couldn't stand to see my face."
"I'm sorry, Erik. You shouldn't have had to suffer. Couldn't they see past it to see the good in your soul? She stroked his cheek again. "I don't understand. Your face may not be perfect but it is not ugly. How could people mistreat you because of it?" He shook his head, too awestruck at her reaction to speak. Her tears dried and she continued to hold his face in her hands. She felt the overwhelming urge to kiss him but was too afraid. It wasn't long before he placed a hand behind her neck and pulled her face to his. He hesitated for a second before leaning forward and placing his lips against hers.