Hey all here is the next chapter for you. Finally! Once again work bumped my writing to the back burner. I have been having to take a lot of double shifts lately. But I am super sorry for making you all wait so long. Hopefully you will enjoy the chapter though!
A huge thanks to Terpsichore. She worked super fast to get this chapter back to you all tonight. YAY she is the best ever!
Oh…and thanks to Silvan and explodingBrain-musik for their super cool gifts they did for me. ExplodingBrain-musik did a cute little Erik for me (Sooo cute.) And sylvan did a couple new fanart pics for me. If you would like to see her work go to the following links (Just take the spaces out.) I know I really liked them.
http / www . freewebs. com / angai / phantom 5Fug. Jpg
http / www. freewebs. com / angai / phantom 5Fug2. jpg
(Ok for some reason part of the address isn't showing up so I will just tell you. Put a percent sign in before the fives in each of the addresses and then take out the spaces and the link should work.)
P.S. The rating at the end of the chapter goes up a bit.
Chapter 62: Moments of Truth.
Two days passed in such frenzied and tiresome succession that Brielle was sure she would lose her mind. She hardly had a moment to wash her face in the morning before Carlotta presented her with some tedious job that needed immediate attention, and though she had told the diva that she would not act the slave at the beginning of her employment, Brielle found herself fetching costume pieces or running errands without a second thought. Somewhere between Carlotta's tantrums Brielle had come to regard her overblown reactions with a wary sort of affection. So now the work felt more like doing a favor than taking a command.
And in a way she was glad for the work, because if she had had a moment's peace Brielle knew that she would only worry about Erik and what his comments that night in the chandelier room meant. It did not take a genius to figure out that he was becoming increasingly worried about something, but whenever she tried to pry the truth behind his dark mood out of him he evaded her. His silence stoked the growing frustration and fear plucking at her heart but in the end she could not find it within herself to become angry at him. After all, I didn't tell him what I suspected about my dream. That it was more than just a nightmare. Lord, I just didn't want it to be anything sinister…But it hasn't repeated, so maybe there really wasn't anything to it. Sighing heavily, Brielle was forced to snap out of her line of thought when a young messenger boy nearly ran her over on his way to deliver his post. Shooting a glare over her shoulder she tightened her grip on the stack of boxes teetering within her arms. Blasted opening day preparations! They are making everyone crazy!
The entire Opera house was in an upheaval as every employee, from the managers on down to the lowliest stagehand, rushed to finish the final preparations for opening night. Costumes for the chorus were frantically being hemmed whilst they were warming up and the din of a hundred hammers droned endlessly in the background, making any attempt at conversation impossible. Crouching uncomfortably upon their hands and knees, a crew of twenty was adding the final touches to the giant backdrops even as racks full of finished costumes rolled by. Red-faced workers hauled hundreds of pounds of heavy velvet curtain to be hung the next day. The air itself seemed to take on the character of those rushing through it, hanging hot and stretched thin, making it impossible for one to catch one's breath in the closeness of the backstage.
Picking her way through a crowd of sweaty stagehands, Brielle grappled with the small mountain of boxes in her hands, trying desperately not to get clobbered by the mad rush swirling all around her. Shifting her cumbersome load, she picked up her skirts to jump over a coiled pile of ropes upon the ground. Ignoring the sticky trickle of sweat sliding down the curve of her cheek, she picked up her pace, wanting to get clear of the stage and into a less crowded area. Turning a corner, Brielle let out a sigh as she moved into the quieter hallway housing the dressing rooms. It was cooler here, and she allowed herself a moment to readjust the dustcloth covering her hair.
Carlotta, never the one to react well to stress, had been strangely subdued the last few days. The prima donna had stuck close to her rooms, practicing her arias with a fevered determination and spending long hours prodding Brielle on subjects that ranged from hairstyle to how not to strain her voice. When she had heard her costumes were ready though, she was quick to order Brielle out to go and retrieve them. Returning now from her fifth trip Brielle made her way to Carlotta's room carrying the heavy load of shoe boxes. Grappling with the dressing room door, she nearly fell through when the doorknob was pulled inward out of her hand.
Standing just inside the doorway, Carlotta took in Brielle's slightly frazzled appearance with a raised eyebrow. "Where 'ave you been? You take too long."
Cursing under her breath in Gaelic, Brielle moved past Carlotta and set the boxes down on a dresser. Pressing a hand against the crick in her back, she turned to Carlotta with a carefully neutral expression. "Well, first I went to the costume department in order to pick up your shoes, but then I was told that the costume mistress had moved them because they needed more room. So then I had to run up three flights to find someone who could tell me where they had put them. Then Meg came to tell me that she was letting her mother watch Aria for a little while."
During her long speech Carlotta made a face and shut the door. "Yes, yes you can stop now. I see, I see. You bore me already," the diva said as she plopped into a chair and began opening the stack of boxes to inspect the shoes.
Pulling up another chair, Brielle fell into it gratefully, glad for the rest from the hectic pace of the Opera House preparations. Raising a hand to tug at her hair covering again, she missed Carlotta's scrutiny from over the tops of the shoe boxes. Slowly the diva pushed the boxes away and folded her hands in her lap.
"Why do you wrap your hair dat way?"
Caught off guard by the question Brielle snatched her fingers away. "Hmm?"
Pointing to her own crown of dark curls Carlotta repeated herself. "Why…do…you…wrap…your…hair…dat…way?"
"No reason. Just to get it out of my way," Brielle hedged, feeling for the first time as if she missed the itchy wig she used to wear.
"It makes you look like a servant."
Smiling sweetly Brielle sat up straighter. "Well, that makes perfect sense, seeing as I work for you."
Flashing an amused smile, the diva rested her chin lightly on the palm of her hand. "Dat is true. You are a funny…eh…person. I am glad you are back." Surprised by the unexpectedly truthful statement, Brielle's smile slipped slightly, but before she could respond Carlotta rushed on. "When you were gone I 'ad no one to carry my tings."
Shaking her head with a laugh, Brielle rolled her eyes. "Yes, how terrible it must have been for you. No one to carry your things or to peer into the future for you. Speaking of which, you haven't asked me to read your cards since I came back."
Shrugging, Carlotta got to her feet and plucked a small handbag from a tabletop. "Eh, maybe I 'aven't worried lately. I realize dis when I heard dat Christine was sneaking around."
"Oh?"
"Yes, I realize she is off being a nobody and I am still 'ere and people still come to see me," Carlotta reasoned airily.
"Well that is very wise of you," Brielle mumbled from behind a hand, trying to muffle the laughter struggling to escape her mouth.
Nodding sagely, Carlotta strolled to the door. "You come wit me now. We must go to pick up my gown for de mask party. I 'ad it sent out because the dressmakers 'ere would ruin it."
Sighing, Brielle felt her shoulders sag tiredly. "Why do I have to go? I just got back from dragging your blessed shoes all over the Opera House!"
Pausing at the doorway, Carlotta raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You 'ave to go because I am going to buy you another wig and you must be dere so it fits properly."
Her mouth fell open slightly in shock. "…What would I need a wig for?"
A slow and knowing smile spread across the diva's face, brightening her dark eyes with a rare moment of merriment. "What? You tink I didn't know dat you always cover your hair? I spend my whole life in de theater. I know a wig when I see one. And I also know dat you now are using dat ugly rag," she said as she pointed at the dark cloth knotted about Brielle's hair.
Caught off guard by Carlotta's apparent philanthropy, Brielle merely blinked up at the imperious woman for several moments. Slowly a wash of color worked its way into her cheeks, making her face burn bright red with embarrassment. "Oh, no…you don't have to do that. It isn't something important…I…"
Frowning now, Carlotta stamped the heel of her shoe against the floor with an audible click. "You lie. If it was not important you wouldn't cover your hair. Now you will come with me because I say so!" Whirling about, the diva opened the door and swept out into the hallway dramatically, not bothering to look back to see if Brielle was in fact following her.
Getting hastily to her feet, the Irishwoman chased after her employer. Coming up alongside the taller woman, Brielle felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Well, I suppose I should be thanking you, then. It is a very kind offer that you are…"
Waving a hand in Brielle's face, Carlotta cut her off. "Shhh, stop dat. I am only embarrassed to have such a ragged-looking ting following me. Noting more…"
"Uh-huh…" Brielle grunted with a knowing smirk, never once believing in the arrogant indifference with which the singer continued to address her. Moving along next to Carlotta as the diva waded into the crush of the backstage workers, Brielle found the first moment of the day when she didn't have something pressing to worry about, and so her mind began to wander. I wonder what he has been doing today, she thought with a sigh. Though she tried hard to prevent it, his latest actions had struck her straight in her heart, bloodying her feelings just as surely as if he had raged venom at her. In a way she would have preferred an open argument, she could handle his temper, but this quiet frustration and unspoken worries were something she did not know how to face. An ache which was growing more and more familiar wheedled its way into her heart; she wanted to help him but she had no idea how to go about it.
I will have to root him out long enough to talk to him. Lord knows I cannot go back into those blasted tunnels on my own again. Worrying her lip between her teeth, she hardly noticed anything around her as she trailed behind Carlotta's imposing figure. Without realizing it, her fears started to seep up through the floorboards of her mind. Maybe he has realized this isn't what he expected. I shouldn't have pushed…I should have been happy with friendship. But I couldn't be happy in living such a half life. And now…now maybe he is backing out. It has been two days and I have hardly even seen him, much less spoken to him…he hasn't touched me in two days…
Biting down hard, Brielle forcibly turned that dark doubting voice in her head off. It is useless overthinking these things. I will just have to face the problem head on. I will pin him down sometime and force him to admit what is bothering him. Feeling slightly better, she squared her shoulders and silently followed Carlotta out one of the Opera's side doors.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Hunched broodingly atop a stacked pile of pale rolls of cloth, the very same material that when painted became the theater's backdrops, Erik glared balefully at a nearby wall. He didn't dare haunt his usual spot directly above the stage for fear that with the increased activity someone would catch a glimpse of him, and if that happened he knew what would happen next. The mob and the torches. And so the last few days had been spent lurking in the deepest recesses of the backstage, keeping close to the shadows and far away from all the noise and light of the work crews. It had been a miserable two days.
He had become so used to human contact, to watching the lives of others play out under his feet, that to be without it was a sudden and harsh shock to his senses. It left him feeling strangely empty inside, like a hunger pain that couldn't be satisfied. With a start he recognized the loneliness curling within him and the discovery sent his thoughts spiraling even further downwards.
In all his years living alone, and mostly unnoticed, within the Opera, he had never once felt this new biting pain. There had always been something to do, something to learn, that he never paused long enough to scrutinize his own solitary existence. He had never felt the annoying kinship with the other inhabitants of the theater which now seemed to plague his every moment. It had been so easy to look down upon them with a certain level of disgust. He had been separate from the human race then, better than the teeming and petty masses of mankind, a being far superior to all others, stalking the night and making music that none could even dream to surpass.
Of course, that had been before he had met Brielle. Her quietly determined care for him whilst he had been recovering at her house had forced him to face a terrible fact: that the human race was not completely formed out of cruelty and hatred. There were some who did not fear him. It had been in those first mystifying weeks under her care that he could no longer claim that his life had known no moment of kindness, and later on when he had grown to look upon her with a certain level of affection it had become impossible to hold himself separate any longer. Her friendship had forced him to step down from his high place and rejoin mankind.
Thinking of Brielle sharpened the void's edges within him, turning the aching loneliness into an almost physical pain. Grinding his teeth together, he shifted upon his perch, raising both hands up to rake through his hair. What am I going to do? I cannot ask her to stay here forever, to live underground in a stinking sewer like an animal. But how can I leave this place…it is in my blood. I have hardly known anything else. Peering out from between his fingers he felt despair growing ever thicker within him. I do not think I have the strength to face the real world after hiding from it for so long. I can still picture the exact look on people's faces when they saw me. Seeing that look again now…it would be like being back in that cage all those years ago. And yet…I know I cannot give her up…I cannot go back to how I was. I will never be so comfortable in the darkness now that I know what it feels like to be welcome in the light.
Growling in frustration, Erik flopped backwards to lie flat on his back, glaring up at the ceiling above him. Prepared to further contemplate his own terrible existence, Erik was slightly started to hear a series of footsteps echoing up to him from the floor. Raising up on one elbow, he carefully peered down to the floor far below. Seeing no one at first, a frown soon wrinkled his brow as he tried to locate where the sounds were coming from. A wicked sounding little giggle broke through the relative quiet of the room, giving the newcomer away as being one of the resident children. What in the world are they doing prowling about? he wondered as he skulked backwards, carefully swinging down from his hiding place to land quietly onto the floor.
Standing with his back pressed against the wall, he listened as the footsteps drew closer. The shuffling sounds moved slowly in a rambling, unconcerned manner, making him certain that he had not been seen. Relaxing slightly with this realization, Erik let out a breath, his mind already turning back to the weight of his worries. He had hardly sunk back into his brood before the patter of footsteps suddenly sounded directly around the corner of the unused pile of backdrops. Before Erik could make a move, a small body leapt out from around the corner directly in front of him, nearly making his heart stop within his chest.
"B-BOOO!"
Falling back against the wall, Erik cursed loudly, his surprised reaction causing the dark-haired child before him to break out into another fit of laughter. Clapping her hands together in delight, Aria grinned up at him, her eyes glittering with the mischief she had just caused. "D-Did I scare you?"
Raising a hand up to rub at his eyes, Erik waited a moment for his heart to settle down. "You nearly gave me a heart attack. You shouldn't jump out at people like that."
Not affected by the sternness in his tone, Aria wrinkled her nose. "H-How come?"
"Because I could have knocked you senseless!" he hissed, some of his earlier dark mood breaking into his voice.
Tilting her head to the side slightly, she studied him for a moment, looking very much like her mother with her wide, laughing eyes. "N-No you wouldn't. S-Sorry if I scared you b-bad though," she said in such a way that he was sure she wasn't sorry at all.
Taking a steadying breath, Erik frowned at Aria, hoping that she would stop grinning at him as she was. It was difficult to lecture her when she simply continued to stare at him so brightly. "What are you doing running around on your own? You should know better than that. You could have gotten hurt…"
Her smiled dimmed slightly then and she stared fiddling with the lace at the hem of her dress. "I am n-not on my own. I just left Madame Giry behind for a little bit."
Rolling his eyes at the obvious holes in that statement, Erik took a step forward and gave a quick search of their surroundings. "Of course you were."
"No, I w-was not," came the indignant reply.
Seeing no one else in the vicinity, Erik reached out and laid a hand on Aria's shoulder, quickly ushering her along back towards the more populated areas of the Opera. "I do not see the point in arguing with you further on the subject. Your mother is going to be furious."
"But I w-wasn't on my own! I w-was l-looking for you!" Aria pressed, craning her neck back so that she could look up at him.
Flabbergasted, Erik shook his head and wondered if all the members of Brielle's family were naturally as contrary as she or if it was their upbringing which had made them so. "All right then. I see your point," he conceded at last.
"I h-haven't seen you in a l-long long time. Where h-have you been?" Aria demanded without preamble, her little face scrunching up as he continued to guide her along in front of him.
Feeling strangely foolish under her gaze, Erik grimaced. "I was thinking."
"I m-missed you though. You s-shouldn't have stayed away."
"Perhaps you should not be so reliant on my presence," he muttered without thinking.
Aria came to an abrupt stop then, nearly causing Erik to trip over her. Turning around in his grip, the child landed a punch against his leg. "D-Don't say mean things like that. I d-don't like it when you go away. And you always d-do it on purpose."
The hurt in her expression was blatantly obvious as she glared up at him, her bottom lip jutting out stubbornly. Turning his eyes away from her, Erik felt very much the rat. In the two days he had been off moping he hadn't once thought what his absence would do to those left behind. This is exactly the reason I am not the meant for any of this. I was hurting her and didn't even realize it.
"Aria, I cannot always be with you and your mother…"
"W-Why not? D-Don't you l-like us anymore? I t-thought you w-were h-happy w-with us. You aren't g-going to r-run away again a-are you?" she asked quietly, her stuttering growing worse as she became more agitated.
Kneeling down so that he was on eye level with the child, Erik took hold of both her shoulders until she raised her gaze to his. "You do not understand. I am not good for you. That is what I realized. That is why I have been staying away. I am not the man you should want to be around. I am not good with children…or with people in general. You cannot rely on me."
Aria took his news quietly, pressing her lips together in disapproval just as he had seen Brielle do a hundred times. "P-People do not g-get to choose l-like that," she said after a moment. "I c-could have told you that and s-saved you the time thinking about it. N-No one picks their f-families. You j-just are a family. G-good or b-bad…B-But I think you are very g-good." Giving Erik a poke in the chest to punctuate her point, Aria let out a breath, obviously believing she was stating something he should already know.
There was a moment in which his thoughts came to a complete stop. Aria's words hit against the darkness in his mind and broke through the worries, causing his shoulders to slump in confusion. Opening his mouth to respond, Erik found that he couldn't formulate a good answer. The child had a point that he couldn't argue with and her simple logic put his constant second guessing to shame. Perhaps she didn't realize it but she had basically included him as a member of her family, a fact that had not escaped Erik's notice. Lowering his head to stare at the floor, the masked man felt his eyebrows draw down into a thoughtful line.
You do not choose… Damn it all… It does seem to be out of my hands now. Everything that has happened has been beyond my control. Brielle finding me in the cellars of the theater instead of the mob… Her taking care of me despite how I treated her. If it had been anyone else I would have died. If it had been anyone else I wouldn't have come to care. It couldn't have been more perfect if it had been planned all along…guided by an unseen hand. For God's sake, she was the one who showed me a bit of kindness when I was a child working for the gypsies. We do not choose…
Slowly the worry lines around his eyes and mouth smoothed out, replaced with a solemn sort of sadness. Raising a hand, he smoothed his fingers down over her dark hair, wondering the whole time how a mere babe had become smarter than him. "So you want me to stay nearby, then? Even though I am always mean-spirited?"
Flashing a dimpled smile, Aria nodded enthusiastically. "Yep! T-That is the w-way it is supposed to be. I knew you w-would figure it out eventually." Stepping forward, Aria wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug. Turning her face into his neck, he could feel her smiling next to his skin. "You aren't b-bad for us. You t-taught M-Momma to laugh again. I w-wouldn't want anyone else b-but you."
With his hands hanging useless at his sides, Erik silently stored her words away within the vaults of his memory banks, hoping against hope that he would some day be worthy of such devotion. I wish it were that simple. "Ah, Love…" he sighed, unable to put anything else he was feeling into words.
Pulling away slightly, Aria giggled. "T-That is what M-Momma calls me, too. You s-should really t-talk to her. I can tell s-she is worried about you. At n-night she s-still has b-bad dreams. But s-she won't talk about them to Uncle C-Conner."
Distracted momentarily from his own inner turmoil, Erik felt a stab of irritation flash through him. "She has been having bad dreams these last two nights!" When Aria nodded, Erik pressed his lips together as he stared off to the side with narrowed eyes. Blast that woman's stubborn nature. She should know better than to keep something like that to herself. She should have told me!
Reaching out, Aria poked him in the middle of his forehead, her eyes looking bright as polished silver as she shook her head at him. "You w-weren't there, r-remember."
Startled from his righteous annoyance with Brielle, Erik blinked stupidly for a moment. "I did not say anything…I…" Then as realization dawned on him a slow smile lit his face. "Ah, I keep forgetting how…er…perceptive you are. But you are right…" he said, getting quickly to his feet. Damnit I should not have stayed away so long. She needed me and I wasn't there.
"I need to talk to your mother."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Having hired a taxi, Carlotta and Brielle arrived at the shopping district in record time. Brielle stood by as the diva fussed and complained as she inspected her ball gown for half an hour. Growing tired of the dramatics, Brielle finally stepped in as the poor tailor's advocate, pointing out all the virtues of the very expensive dress despite Carlotta's apparent dissatisfaction. Finally, after much prodding on Brielle's part, the diva gave in and paid the tailor, having the man wrap up the beautifully made costume and address it to be delivered later that day.
Breezing out of the shop with Brielle on her heels, Carlotta's normally pinched face broke out into a smile. "Yes, dat was fun, no? I didn't even tell you to and you played the part! We got him to lower de price by five percent."
Startled, Brielle looked at her employer with an uncertain frown. "You were doing that on purpose, then? Shame on you."
"Yes, of course. Dose dressmakers will rob you blind. I always do dat." Laughing at Carlotta's deviousness, Brielle could only shake her head. "Now we go to de other shop."
"You really do not have to."
"We already talked about dis. I have decided," Carlotta stated with the wave of one hand as she led the way down the street away from the dress shops. Her dark eyes scanning the signs above the doors, the diva came to a stop in front of a fancy wigmaker's shop. Pushing open the door, Carlotta swept in with such an air of authority that both of the employees within the store jumped to attention. "I am looking for something for my assistant," she announced loudly. "So be quick about it."
Within moments, Brielle was presented with several choices. Unused to such deferential treatment, it took her a moment to regain her composure. Finally she settled on a high quality wig of black, which closely matched her first one. Feeling slightly uncomfortable when Carlotta paid for the thing, Brielle felt a light blush burning in her cheeks. Wearing her new set of hair out of the shop she had to admit how much nicer a disguise it was over a handkerchief, and it did not itch as her first wig had. Following Carlotta down the street, her discomfort faded when she noticed how smugly pleased the diva seemed to be with herself. Well, if it makes her so happy then I suppose I shouldn't let it bother me.
Hiring another taxi without a word to her, Carlotta kept a catlike grin on her face all the way back to the opera house. Climbing the Opera's stairs, the diva looked over her shoulder at Brielle. "I must practice after dis but I want you to stay and watch for awhile. Dat spray you gave me awhile ago is very good I tink. But I want to make sure you say it is working right. Very important, de voice, when de performance is so close."
"All right, I will stay."
Nodding as if she didn't expect any other answer, the diva swept through the Opera House, quickly coming to the stage area where several other members of the ensemble were waiting. "I want to practice on de stage today," she declared loudly, purposely throwing her voice so that all the workers nearby would hear as well, and thereby indicating that they should stop what they were doing immediately. Used to her odd demands, all the hammering and chattering stopped, throwing the auditorium into a sudden hush.
Moving off to one side, Brielle took up a post in front of a side curtain in one of the wings, watching the chorus members quickly scurry to get into their proper places and the conductor scramble through his sheet music after Carlotta stated where she wanted to start. Without the orchestra there they were forced to make do with just the piano for guidance. Smiling to herself, Brielle wondered at the terror Carlotta so easily instilled in those around her. I wonder what it must be like to make grown men quake in their boots as she does.
The practice got off to a good start, no one missed their cues and, despite the lack of instrumental backup, no one wandered off pitch. Carlotta wove her way across the stage with all her usual drama, but Brielle was pleasantly surprised to find that she no longer winced when the diva's parts came up. Though every note still dripped with an overstudied air, the high notes now seemed to lack the strain that they once had. Carlotta was sounding better than she had in years.
Pleased in whatever small part she had in this improvement, Brielle folded her hands before her, becoming lost in the music and the drama playing out onstage. When Carlotta looked to her during a lull in the practice, Brielle gave her a big smile of encouragement. Seemingly puffed up by this approval, the diva continued on with even more flair in her acting than before, forcing several of the chorus members to cover their laughter at her histrionics. Tapping her foot along to a livelier piece, Brielle didn't notice the curtain behind her shift slightly as a body moved behind it.
"Brielle?" a hushed whisper hissed very close to her ear.
Visibly jumping at the sound, the Irishwoman turned her head with a frown, her heart skittering within her chest when she thought she recognized the deep baritone. "Erik? Where in the world are you?"
"Behind the curtain, of course," came the quick reply. "I must speak with you."
Pressing her lips together into a line, Brielle folded her arms over her chest. She hadn't realized until just then how irritated she had become over his long absence. "So speak."
"Could you not step back here for a moment? I do not think it wise for me to come forward and…"
"No, I cannot." A short irritated snort sounded from behind the curtain at her reply but Brielle didn't move. "Where have you been the last two days?"
"I found that I needed some time to think."
"For two whole days?" Brielle demanded incredulously. "Do you know how worrying it is to have a person simply disappear for that long? I didn't know what had happened to you. You didn't even leave word as to what you were up to."
"Yes, yes…I believe we have established by now how terrible I am at that. I am not used to having to leave word behind. You will have to excuse my lapse," Erik's voice stated from behind the curtain, growing slightly sharper the more Brielle antagonized him.
Opening her mouth to respond over her shoulder, Brielle shut it again when a stagehand strolled by. She smiled at the man and waited for him to pass before she turned her head back toward the curtain. Sensing Erik's irritation like a wave of heat upon her back, Brielle purposely set about goading him, feeling it just punishment for his inconsiderate treatment of her. "I have yet to actually hear an apology fall from your lips, sir. And though I know how you are loath to admit when you are in the wrong, I do know that you are capable of it."
"Brielle…" Erik growled from behind her. "I did have something specific I wished to discuss with you."
Ignoring what he had just said, Brielle barreled on, knowing perfectly well how much it annoyed him when she did so. "One would think that a man would treat his lover with slightly more respect, you know."
"Brielle!" Erik snapped, his voice tinged more with embarrassment now than anger. "Must you speak so openly of…well… Someone could hear you and…"
"Well, what am I to say?"
"You could say friends…or something else less…"
"Suggestive?" Brielle supplied when Erik's voice trailed off. A flabbergasted grunt sounded from behind her then and she was sure she heard him begin to pace on his side of the curtain. "Of course not all friends act as we do. Last time I checked I hadn't slept with my other friends."
A loud curse burst out at her words and Brielle felt a hand wrap around her upper arm, dragging her backward into the concealing darkness behind the curtain. Falling against the warm expanse of Erik's chest, Brielle glanced upward to take in his furious expression. His eyes cut through the shadows, flashing with temper as a muscle in the side of his jaw ticked in and out. Pleased that she had accomplished her goal, Brielle's own irritation faded slightly and she beamed up at him.
Seeing her light expression, Erik's grip tightened around her arms. "Were you purposely goading me!" he barked at her.
"Only a little bit."
Closing his eyes, Erik gathered what reserves of willpower remained. Brielle could tell from the tight way he held his mouth that he very much wanted to throttle her at that moment. "Why in the world would you feel the need to purposely antagonize me?" he hissed finally, glaring down at her with such intensity that she was sure he would burn a hole right through the middle of her forehead.
"So that you would know just a little bit of how it felt to have you take off without a by-your-leave."
"Don't you think I have felt bad enough? Why else do you think I stayed away in the first place?"
Trying to shake off his grip, Brielle raised her hands to press against his chest, her fingers curling in the lapels of his jacket. "Do you know what it means to a woman when she allows herself to be seduced and then her man disappears without word?"
"Seduced!"
"All right, so maybe it was me who seduced you. But in either case the result is the same!"
Falling into silence they stood locked together for a heady moment, the sound of their breathing rushing through the air and blocking out all other sound. Despite their bickering, Brielle had the sudden and uncontrollable urge to raise up onto her toes and cover his frowning mouth with hers. Rolling forward onto the balls of her feet, Brielle felt her lips part slightly, her eyes dropping from his to fix upon the downward curve of his sinful lips. Completely losing her train of thought, she hardly noticed when he cleared his throat and attempted to continue the conversation.
"As I said, I did not consider how my absence would affect…er…everyone," he mumbled, his voice going rough and low as he turned his head to the side, purposely breaking eye contact with her.
Closing her eyes to try and clear her head, Brielle slowly drew back from him. "Oh, it is all right. I know you don't always think things through when you get into one of your moods," she said easily, the annoyance which had been fueling the fight draining out of her. "What was it you said you wanted to talk to me about?"
Finally releasing his hold on her, Erik took a careful step back. "Aria told me that you have been dreaming at night these last few days."
Caught off guard by this drastic change in subject Brielle could only gape up at him. "Huh?"
"But they aren't just dreams, are they? And the nightmare you had when I was with you…that wasn't just a dream either. Was it?"
"No, I don't suppose it was…" Brielle allowed.
"Now do not try to deny it I know that…wait, what?" Erik stuttered, not quite believing that she had given in without the usual fight.
"I said no…they are not just dreams," Brielle repeated. "I know what they are. I didn't want to admit it earlier because I felt as if I did that it would make it real. But like usual I cannot make any sense out of them…I wake up in a cold sweat but I do not know why."
Erik remained quiet for a moment after her confession. "What do we do, then? Shouldn't we do something?" he asked in a whisper, worried lines bracketing the corners of his mouth.
Reaching out to pat his chest comfortingly, Brielle flashed an optimistic smile. "There is nothing to be done but keep a watchful eye. Or wait until something else comes to me."
His brows drew down into a dark line above his eyes as he contemplated her words. "I do not like simply waiting about for some evil event to fall upon me."
"I know…neither do I, but that seems to be how it works usually."
Raising a hand up to scratch his chin, Erik turned and walked down the long tunnel that lay between the curtains in front and behind them, motioning over his shoulder for her to follow. Hurrying after him, Brielle followed upon his coattails as he wove his way away from the stage and into a quieter area behind the stage. She could tell from the way that he hunched his shoulders that he was already fretting over what she had told him. Catching up to him after leaving the crowds behind, Brielle reached out and took a hold of his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and face her.
"Now I believe it is my turn to ask a question. What is it that has been bothering you these last two days?" Knowing this was a loaded question, Brielle thought to get his mind off of her and her dreams; she was rather surprised when he paled under her gaze and dropped his eyes to the floor.
"I do not wish to say."
Taken aback by his reaction to her question, Brielle stood in silence, watching the play of guilt and misery wash over his features, leaving him look ragged and terribly vulnerable. She had simply assumed that he had spent the time in the grip of one of his moods. Softening her stance, Brielle reached out to take his hand but he drew away. "All right, if you really do not want to…"
Spinning away from her, Erik stalked over to a group of chairs and fell into one. "I mean I really shouldn't weigh everyone else down with my own flaws and worries. You have enough on your mind as it is."
Biting her lip, Brielle didn't say anything when Erik paused, hoping that he would continue his story if she did not interrupt. She did not have long to wait. When she didn't urge him onward, Erik glanced up at her searchingly. "Please, just do not ask."
Shrugging her shoulders, Brielle moved forward and sat down in a chair opposite him, keeping her mouth firmly shut. "I mean…really it is my problem. You cannot help that I am entirely unequipped for loving another human being. I have never waded out into the world before of my own free will and I do not know how to navigate its realities. I cannot act as normal men do…I cannot associate or make friends…I cannot work at a trade…And I know I could not bear people's stares again…" he murmured, his eyes searching the floor as his internal monolog spilled out of his mouth.
Shocked by what she was hearing, Brielle felt a both a thrill of pure pleasure and the painful pricking of empathy work their way through her. One word in his speech had sparked the delight to glow within her, for he had stated that he did not know how to love someone. That means…even though he hasn't told me…that he must feel a part of what I feel for him. He must love me…at least a little…to say such a thing…to worry about such things. Grinning unconsciously, Brielle missed it when Erik gave her an odd look that quickly sharpened and turned ugly.
"What about what I just said is funny to you?" he snapped, slowly uncurling from the chair to stand trembling a few feet from her.
Without missing a beat Brielle stood as well, practically brimming with excitement. Though of course she could not admit why, she would have to wait until he could say the words directly to her instead of in this roundabout way, but at least now she knew for a fact that the sentiment must be there. "I am not mocking you, Erik…do not fly into a rage so quickly. I was just thinking that you are selling your skills short. You have already made friends with Conner…you have learned how to love my daughter…You have maneuvered your way through the mazelike dynamics of my family life…You know how to teach and how to write music. There has been nothing you were unable to learn."
Puffing up slightly at how easily she contradicted him, Erik shook a finger in her direction. "That is not the same! I am speaking of something entirely different!"
"Ach, if you say so," she returned incredulously. "But I think you have just been wasting your time these last two days. I could have fixed your blasted worries if you had come to speak to me earlier. You know it is the same. You have come a long way from last year, Erik. You are not the Phantom of the Opera anymore…you have relearned how to just be a man. You are perfectly equipped to be Erik now, you just haven't realized it."
A frustrated noise escaped his lips as he raised a hand to rake through his hair, standing it up in all manner of unnatural directions. "No…no…it is not that easy. If it were that simple I would have realized it…"
"You are not the Lord almighty Erik…you do sometimes not see the obvious," Brielle said calmly, watching his movements as the man before her began to pace back and forth.
Ripping his hands from his hair, Erik let out a furious curse and stalked right up to her, until they practically stood nose to nose. "Sometimes you drive me to the very brink of madness! Always so calm when I am flying apart at the seams!"
The revelation of his feelings had been enough to numb her to his tantrum up until this point, but even the knowledge that he truly loved her was not enough of a buffer between her temper and his. "And happy I would be to push you right on over that brink by the way you are acting now, sir," Brielle stated with an overly sweet smile plastered across her face.
With eyes flashing wild as flying daggers, Erik reached out and wrapped a hand around one side of her throat, using his thumb to tilt her face upward. Before even surprise could register in Brielle's brain she felt his mouth crushing against hers, bruising and furious as their bodies slammed together. All rational thought melted away as heated passion, tempered by their combined anger, rushed wildly through her body. Instantly his hands were upon her, strangely gentle in their exploration of her waist and lower back, a stark contradiction to the savageness of his mouth. Their arguing had been building to this moment, stoking the fires which now burned white hot in her belly, and Brielle would be damned if she would let him do all of the ravaging.
Flinging her arms about his neck, Brielle pressed herself brazenly against the length of him, glorying as her curves melted perfectly into the hard planes and valleys of his abdomen. Growling in response, Erik propelled them both forward until her back was firm against the wall behind her. Brielle was dimly aware of her hands upon the buttons of his clothing but she couldn't exactly place when she had made the decision to do so. Everything was all flash and heat, anger and frustration as Erik broke contact with her mouth and rained a series of burning kisses down the column of her throat. His mouth skirted along the upper edge of her bodice, teasing the swell of her breasts until she gasped his name aloud.
Smiling against her skin she felt his teeth graze across her collarbone, only to be instantly soothed by the sweep of one thumb. "You should not have stayed away so long…" Brielle moaned against the top of his head, her fingers firmly tangled in the darkness of his hair.
Raising his face, Erik seemed to wholeheartedly agree as he returned his mouth to hers in a kiss so wild and desperate that it made Brielle's knees turn to water under her. Stumbling slightly to the side, the couple slid along the length of the wall until they came to a partially open door. Reaching out blindly, Brielle felt the door give under her hand. Jerking upon Erik's jacket lapels, Brielle dragged him into the shadows of the deserted storeroom. Without the worry of being discovered holding them back, their actions became less conscious and more elemental, both longing to fulfill the need roaring through them.
Something stark and powerful began coiling ever tighter within her belly as Erik pushed her backward onto what appeared to be a pile of ancient green velveteen curtains, the burning desire becoming ever more urgent when Erik's hands hiked up her skirts around her waist. Wherever he touched her, her skin hummed to life and whenever he growled her name her soul rejoiced.
Wickedly groping at his pant fastenings Brielle knew only one things for certain, that she couldn't wait one more second for their union because she might die from the agonizing pleasure blazing within every fiber of her being. When he drove into her, joining their straining bodies at last, she dug her nails into the cloth stretching tight across his shoulders. Wrapping her legs around his middle she moved with his every frantic thrust until the pressure building within her finally exploded, sending her mind scattering in a thousand different directions, her body arching up and stiffening as she came to and fell over her peak. A moment later she felt Erik come right behind her.
Dazed by the violence of her reaction to him, Brielle lay gasping for breath upon the soft and slightly musty cloth beneath her, unable to formulate a thought, much less words, at that moment. The weight of Erik's slack body lay heavy and comforting over her for the few moments it took him to regain his composure, but all too soon he lifted off her and sprawled out at her side. Raising a hand up to try and press the stars from her eyes, Brielle stretched languidly, both worn out and completely invigorated by their wild bout.
Rolling onto her side, Brielle propped herself up onto one elbow. "Well," she breathed, a satisfied smile curling her mouth upward. "I suppose that is one thing you are perfectly equipped for."
Erik glanced over at her with a slightly startled expression clouding his eyes. Then suddenly the blue of his eyes brightened and he broke out into a deep belly laugh, his sides shaking with the force of his mirth. "Lord, woman… How can I stay irritable and moody with you around to say such things?"
"It is impossible, sir. It is no use fighting my charms. Just give in."
His smile dimming slightly, Erik reached out and ran a finger along the curve of her cheek. "I should have come to speak with you two days ago."
"Really? It was the speaking part you would have been wanting then?" she teased.
"Yes," he responded, perfectly serious as he curved his palm reverently over her face. "You take my worries and make them seem not so impossible to overcome. I cannot do that on my own."
Turning her face she pressed her lips against the heel of his palm. "Well, that is the beauty of it all…you do not have to try to do it alone anymore."
"No, I don't suppose I do..." he nodded, the blue of his eyes turning dark and calm as the sea on a still summer's day. "Thank you, Bri… Thank you."