Ok, Here is an edited and final version of this chapter, I have to say that I really enjoyed how it came out. I hope that you all will enjoy it as well.
Endless Longings
It was late, past midnight at least. Still tonight Meip had found sleep elusive. She had been wrestling with the bed sheets for an hour after retiring before finally giving up. Angered at her own restlessness, Meip had then contented herself to glaring at the ceiling. Still unsatisfied she ripped the covers from her body and flew onto the floor pacing. Her face was scrunched, her teeth pulling at her lips as she ground out her frustration. It was absurd, acting so flustered over a man. Yet flustered she was, and over such man as Erik.
For weeks now he had been pestering her, giving glimpses of himself to tempt her wicked dreams back to life.
Oh God the dreams she was having of him!
The incident in the chorus line was only the beginning. Soon after, Meip began to envision him everywhere. No place was safe from his angelic caress. Meip found herself victim to the flutter of his fingers over her skin when walking down the hall. The warmth of his arms encircling her as she attended practice. The passion of his mouth on her skin as she performed. All this however was nothing compared to the nights she spent dreaming of him.
Meip sat back down on the bed, burying her face in her hands. The dreams she had of him were both frightening and wonderful at the same time. A part of her relished in them, counting down the hours till sunset, when Erik would come to her in song and show her the true meaning of pleasure. Meip could not stop the small groan that escaped her lips as the memory of those dreams rose in her mind. She swore she could almost hear his sweet voice whispering to her of passion in the dark, luring her towards the pull of sleep, the promise of desire. Meip could feel herself slipping, the thought of another night with him a powerful temptation.
With a frustrated growl Meip flung herself from the bed, grabbing the vase of water from her vanity and splashing the liquid across her face. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Meip felt disgust growing her belly. She was a proper girl, and although the other ballet girls all thought her ridicules for refusing any lover, Meip had always been proud of her chastity. It was the one thing that she felt was completely hers and hers alone. The small thought of freedom that she kept treasured in her heart, and swore to never give away like so many other foolish girls in the opera. Bartering their virtue for a chance at riches and fame. No, Meip had refused such a path long ago, vowing to fulfill her dying father's wish and marry in white.
Still she was not naïve to the 'needs of the body' as many of the ballet girls put it, but instead had chosen to keep those feelings under lock and key till the day she fell in love with a man and married. The fact that she was having such impure thoughts day after day about a man she hardly knew, was unnerving to say the least. Meip felt sick of herself. Her dreams were now a source of guilty pleasure. She could not deny that she craved his gentle touch and the whisper of his angelic voice against her skin, but her guilt was that he was quickly becoming no more than a nighttime specter. The lover girls laugh about in secret, and sneak out to see, but are no more than a mere distraction. Meip wanted more than that, she wanted to know him, speak with him, spend time with him, but try as she did Erik remained as evasive as a shadow.
Every day she searched for him, and everyday she caught only glimpses of his shadow. Meip was beginning to wonder if maybe this whole thing was a game to him, perhaps to him she was nothing more than a girl to be toyed with and thrown away after.
This thought was what had kept Meip awake, terrified that it was true and she would lose the only thing she ever had to give.
"Please," She spoke into the darkness. Her despair raging through her like a flood.
"Please a want to know you, I don't want this to be some mere whim of passion." Meip broke down crying, the stress of her own emotions causing her whole body to shake with sobs.
As she felt herself crumble onto the wooden floor, her body suddenly to tired to stand, Meip thought she heard his voice reaching out to her from the shadows, wrapping her in warmth and safety. There was another feeling circling around her as well, a tiny fluttering that began in her stomach and flooded out through the rest of her. It was odd but welcome, filling her with peace and lulling her to sleep. As Meip's eyes closed she almost thought she saw a man clothed in shadows coming toward her. The sense of being airborne registered dimly in her mind as she recognized the arms holding her. The arms she had been longing for, the arms she already knew so well.
'Erik.' She thought happily, then fell soundly asleep.
8:8:8:8:8:8:8:8:8:8:8:8
Erik stood looking down at the girl, who had occupied so much of his time and thought for the past two months, with a mixture of guilt and admiration. True his intentions at the beginning were sometimes less than honorable, but something had changed over the course of those two months which had Erik completely confused.
He had begun to fall in love.
It was subtle at first, a simple thought of her, a causal stroll that somehow brought him to her. Soon thoughts of conquest began to morph from lust to desire, he began to notice things about Meip which were not entirely related to nighttime pleasures. The way she smiled, the look on her face when she concentrated on her pirouettes, the sparkle she would have in her eyes when she strolled around the scenery. What thoughts passed through her mind as she touched the sets, a sad wishful look on her face.
Most of all, when she danced, Erik found that everything else in the world seemed pointless. Only the sight of her lithe form mattered. On stage Meip was perfection, her style and form always flawless and filled with a passion for the performance. Whether she was the mouse turned to horse in Cinderella, or the maid in el Muto. There was always something in her performance which made her stand out, if was as if she could take the most common roles and transform them into the lead simply by outshining the rest. Erik wondered often to himself why he had never noticed her before, she was so obviously gifted.
Still her talent notwithstanding, it was her company that Erik found he craved more and more. The thoughts of desire had not left but now they were preceded by the need to simply be with her. This need scared Erik.
Having lived his entire life alone, shunned by the world with its prejudices, he had grown weary of rejection. There had been many times in the past when he had reached out for love, only to be cruelly turned aside. It was this same fear which had kept him from revealing himself to Christine. The thought of someone he cared for rejecting him was too much to bear, instead he had decided that the only way to have her was to be something otherworldly, an Angel to the girl who had lost everything. Even the night he planned to seduce her was wrapped in shadows, Christine would have never known who he was truly, she would have thought it all a dream.
How ironic it was that it was that same night that a girl from his own dreams stepped into his life.
Meip however, she was different, she was special.
Even in the beginning Erik knew that he didn't want to hide from Meip. For some unexplainable reason, Erik had always wanted Meip to know him. To see him, speak with him, want to be with him. No it was more than that, Erik wanted Meip to choose him, not because she was under his hypnosis's but because she wanted him, Erik. All of him, the opera ghost, the phantom, the man.
Still old habits die hard they say, and old fears die harder.
It was not to long before Erik's inhabitations took hold of him again, and cast him back to the familiar dance of predator and prey. Even in his own mind, Erik could not deny that he enjoyed watching Meip chase after him. The look of frustration on her face, how her brow would crease in determination, the fine shine of perspiration coating her arms as she ran. How delightful it was to tease her so! Beyond those small games of cat and mouse however, there was what was quickly becoming the highlight of his day. Spending the night by Meip's side, singing.
How her body would react to every change in his voice, every switch in pitch. What a joy it was to see the expressions her face would take on as he sang.
Those nights that Erik spent singing to Meip in her room were some of the happiest nights he had ever spent in his life. However, as he looked down into the face of the girl who had begun to capture his heart, Erik felt an acute sense of guilt.
His own insecurities had made him unintentionally hurt someone precious. Now the question loomed, what was he to do about it?
Meip stirred on the bed below him, her soft curves unconsciously curling toward him. With a half sardonic smile, Erik leaned down and half whispered, half sang into her ear.
"What strange creature are you? Turning the phantom to man? Is he even a man at all?"
The last part was a question to himself, even Erik did not know the answer. Perhaps if he even was a man, would that change the darkness in his heart? How would she react if he revealed that part of himself to her?
Vague images of past tainted deeds began to flow through Erik's mind. He saw the days of his youth spent in India, playing entertainer to the Tsarina.
The devices he built for her amusement could only be described as sinisterly brilliant. The crowning jewel of which had been the torture room. Ah yes, his most ingenious invention had pleased the Tsarina immensely. It had been a perturbed sense of pride that he felt when the Tsarina had felt he deserved the honor of watching his contraption work first hand. The liquid that leaked from his eyes later that night had confused him. It should have not bothered him, after all it was their own fault that they were in there. He could think of many he would gladly have sent to that dark hell. Yes there had been many in mind when he had made the torture room. People whom he wanted to see scream in terror at his power over them now.
It was with this thought in mind that he had began to laugh, his mind racing with vengeance and pain he could not understand. He was so wrapped up in his own devious vision, that he had not notice the door to his room open, or hear Khan's voice shouting at him. He could only hear the screams of his torturers as they became the ones who were weak and tortured. It wasn't until Khan had physically begun to shake him that he was even aware of where he was.
'Erik! Wake up!' He remembered being surprised at seeing the Dargoa's face in front of him, and not his long banished torturers.
'What were you doing?' Khan's voice had held a note of sympathy, but his eyes had been weary. It had made Erik laugh.
'I was envisioning the death of my enemies. Is that not what every man of power dreams?' He had begun to walk around the room then, his posture copying that of the Tsar. The only man of power he knew at the time.
'But, Erik,' Monsieur Khan's calm voice carried across the room, quietly denying Erik's facade.
'you are crying.'
Erik brought a hand to his cheek, almost chuckling at the moisture he found there.
'Are you suggesting that I am sorry for my thoughts Monsieur Khan?' Erik's voice was trembling, a vulnerable part of himself wanting to rise up. He quenched it with memories of his abused childhood.
'How laughable!' Erik smiled calmly, his hand casually reaching out to overthrow a chair.
'Are you saying that this 'monster', this 'thing' feels sorry?' Erik gripped a nearby bookshelf. Anger was good, anger didn't feel like anything, anger he could deal with. The wood of the bookshelf began cracking under the pressure he was emitting.
'Answer me!' Erik exploded at Khan's silence, toppling over the bookshelf, ripping apart nearby cushions and window coverings.
'Get out!' He screamed, his booming voice shaking the room. The Dargoa had risen and left without a word, tossing a look of pity over his shoulder. It had made Erik even angrier. Causing him to spend the rest of the night tearing apart his room.
Who was he to pity him?
It had been more than that Erik realized later. It had been the feeling of desertion. The Dargoa had seen, he knew the depth of darkness in his mad soul, and left him in it.
Looking down at Meip once more, Erik felt fear hinge around the corners of his tottering mind.
What if she ran from his darkness?
So there it is, such as it is. I do hope you enjoyed seeing some of Erik's past, i know I did!