A/N: I'm sorry, it's been so, so long and I can't help it, I just have so many exams! Other than that, I say thank you to CrazyPerson2671 for my 100th review! You are AMAZING!
Chapter Twenty-Three: A Red and Black Christmas
I was silent for the rest of the night when I got back to the lair.
It's not really like it's my fault, although I guess it is because an interesting aspect to my disorder is the times when I virtually feel that I cannot bring myself to speak, not even a single syllable at all! It's nerve-wracking, as one should really expect, but I have absolutely no control over it, and I remember I used to make such a fuss over it when I was younger.
I was not the only one who did not like this little side-effect of Schizophrenia, my teacher in fact, loathed me for it, as she thought that it was just a desperate plea for attention when I would pull that stunt. I scoffed at this, even as a child, which she found to be very rude. She called my Mom and told her about my 'distasteful', as she called it, behavior, and she came rushing to my school.
Out of all the people in the whole, wide world, including myself, my Mom was the only one who seemed to understand why I would get so silent for so very long. She didn't know the science behind it, but she told me that sometimes, I would feel like I had nothing important to say, in which case she rationalized that I would say nothing at all. I believed that, but my teacher was absolutely and completely not convinced. She insisted that it was a warped plea for attention, and she inquired as to my father's relationship with me, and if my parents were negligent towards me in any way shape or form.
I wanted to smack her so hard that her nieces and nephews would feel it -for I was under the completely plausible impression that no one of sound mind would ever marry that awful woman, much less impregnate her- but I did not, I shook my head and glared at her in the most frightening way I could, the end result was effective, for she brought up the issue no further, and merely let me and my family be.
Erik didn't seem to mind my borderline odd silence, in fact, I think he was rather glad of it as I said nothing and went to sit down on this comfortable, cushy yet worn arm chair that I had 'claimed' a week ago. I couldn't bear to find sleep in case Erik's face came to haunt me that night. I loved him, but he was still very frightening.
I didn't like the feeling I had when I thought about Erik's face, it wasn't one of pure fear, as love watered down the potency of fright, but I was afraid, deep, deep down, and I think that was what scared me the absolute most.
I also didn't look at Erik all evening, I couldn't bear the embarrassment I would feel, and I didn't want to make him feel any more uncomfortable than I'm sure he already did, that would finish me.
So instead, I sat quietly and busied myself with looking at the wall. Boring business, I know, but what the Hell else could I do? What the Hell else indeed.
I wondered for a moment -or possibly close to three hours- just how far away Christmas was. It didn't feel at all that distant, and I thought perhaps that the time to give Erik his gift would come much, much sooner than expected, which made me quite happy.
I wanted to give it to him as yet another peace offering, and I was suddenly consumed with a wave of guilt as I realized just how often I found myself saying sorry to my dear Phantom of the Opera. it was yet another strike in the heart to add to the many theoretical stab wounds that already lay there, imbedded in the skin, and it also sent a wave of depression through me as I had yet another epiphany.
No wonder he hates you. I heard myself say. You're a bother, you're not picture-perfect Christine who doesn't get her nose into anybody else's business and she certainly doesn't talk to herself like you do! I growled lowly, so low in fact, that Erik, who was absent mindedly scribbling down music on the thick sheets of lined paper in his own language at his organ a few mere feet away, didn't notice in the least.
His music usually calmed me, although he would never sing, but that day, it filled me with a terribly intense feeling of angst and frustration. I wanted to scream when he played a few bars from 'The Music of the Night', but I didn't, I grit my teeth in silence and waited for my ability to talk to come back, hopefully with Goblin following.
When my voice returned, the first thing i asked was about Christmas.
"Erik?" I asked hesitantly and he turned immediately this time to look at me. I almost blushed at his almost angry gaze in embarrassment, but I suppressed it and tried not to look too small. "Do... do you know when Christmas is?" I asked and he looked thoughtful for a moment.
"I'm afraid I do not, Annika." He tells me and a wave of butterflies lift through me as he obviously still cares enough to call me by y first name.
"Well, could we e make up a date and go from there?" I asked hopefully. "I'm kind of tired of waiting for so long, and you and me could use a little joy." I say and again he pauses to think.
"I have never celebrated Christmas, perhaps it is time that I did." I feel a little bit bad that he never had Christmas before, and yet almost a little bit proud that it would be me to show him just how much fun he could have.
"Well, we don't have a turkey." I began, trying to cheer up. "And we don't have a Christmas tree, usually, I would say that with out a tree or turkey we have no Christmas, but, when there's a we, there's a way!" I said brightly and a ghost of a smile appeared on Erik's lips, giving me the nerve to keep going.
"What do you suggest then?" He asked and I shrugged.
"I don't know, but we could get out some of the bakery food and we could chill out." I said and Erik looked at bit confused as to what 'chill out' meant, but he seemed to think it was a good idea.
"Very well then, but I put you in charge of this Christmas then whilst I keep on working, feel free to call on me when the set up is finished." I shook my head, there was no way he would get out of this.
"Half the fun of Christmas is setting your shit up, and you will help me." I grabbed him by the arm and led him down the steps away from his organ towards the table. I shoved a table cloth that was no doubt around a zillion years old into his hands and pointed to the piece of furniture's shiny, round surface. "Please?" I asked and he nodded, making me squeal and run to the food box.
Plates, knives, forks and napkins were loaded in my arms when I returned to the front of the lair, smiling widely when I saw the table cloth that was bunched up in a messy ball from before was now spread out evenly over the table.
Erik noticed how much I was carrying and immediately turned to help me, taking most of the load from my arms and setting it down on the dinner table. I nodded to him in thanks and set two places at the table, making sure the cutlery was straight and that every little thing looked its best.
Mom would pull out all the stops when it came to Christmas, and I do mean all the stops; I would find her on Christmas Eve morning, at around six in the a.m., chopping stale bread for stuffing and prepping the turkey. She always made way too much food and Grandad and I would take bets on how many different kinds of pie she would make, he knew his daughter better than I did, and he always found a way to win, although I would tell him he cheated.
I shook myself back to reality as I picked up the food from the bakery that remained. One of Erik's demands was that Mme. Giry would bring him enough food from the local bakery to satisfy him for a month, to avoid detection that I was here, Erik orderd less, and then gave it all to me. I found this unfair, but I didn't argue about it, he hardly ever ate anyway.
I set what was left on the large serving dished that were already laid out and arranged it so that it looked pretty. Indeed there was quite a bit more food than I'm sure myself and Erik could eat, but I mentally shrugged and just put it all out, just in case we needed it.
Erik disappeared for a little bit, no more than a few minutes, before returning with two fine crystal wine glasses and a bottle of champagne. He explained that he enjoyed an tasteful alcoholic indulgence, but never drank himself into a stupor, he felt that he had too much class and I agreed. Champagne did seem to fit him so well, as Erik did have very expensive taste.
His suits, I found, were all imported Italian silk, his cologne, as I have previously mentioned in a way that makes me blush, is of the highest quality, and the art that drenched the walls of his lair was both appropriate and quite elegant. If not for his face and the fact that he lived beneath the Opera house instead of attending the opera every single night, I would have mistaken Erik for a nobleman who practiced his airs and graces often.
I sighed and wondered what life could've been like if I was rich and lead a different life, perhaps that was it, perhaps Erik didn't love me because of how common I was.
I couldn't blame him, why would a man want an overly willing rock when he had a slightly reluctant diamond just a few miles above his head? Maybe I'm just hopeless.
Again I shook myself back to reality and tried to put on a smile that said I didn't feel like my innards were ripped out. Erik poured us each a glass and then walked around the table and pulled out my chair like the gentleman he was. I blushed and sat down, focusing on the intricate lace pattern in the table cloth and not meeting his gaze, feeling like a stupid girl talking to her crush the whole damn time.
Erik sat opposite to me and raised his delicate glass in a toast. I'd never toasted anything before, and so I merely settled with trying to copy his movements. I picked up my glass as well, trying not to break it, and I held it aloft.
Erik was silent and it occurred to me that he wanted me to make the toast. Again I blushed scarlet at my major blunder and tried not to stutter.
"To Erik" I began "A talented musician, an amazing architect, and also, a very good friend." I said. If my toast made Erik uncomfortable, he did not show it, and for that, I'm glad, I always hated embarrassing him.
He clinked my glass lightly with his before taking a sip of the champagne and nodding before looking to the bottle.
"An excellent year." He commented on our alcoholic beverage, and even though I didn't even have an inkling as to what made champagne taste bloody amazing, it was still very good.
It was bubbly, like soda-pop, which appeased my inner five-year-old, but it had a bitter bite to it. Champagne was pleasant, I decided I liked it right then and there. I finished my glass quickly and Erik refilled it, just as swiftly, not spilling a drop on the table cloth before sighing and giving in.
I had already taken enough food to feed a small family for myself, but the Opera Ghost had not touched anything, eventually, he broke down and allowed himself to eat; a fact that made me smile.
In the same thought, not a second later, it occurred to me that to any outsider that happened to swim across the lake and look at me, having dinner with the Phantom of the Opera, would assume we were on a date. I don't know why, but that sent a snakebite to my heart, filling it up with venom as I almost excused myself right then and there.
I could dream all I wanted; I was not on a date with Erik.
We finished eating quickly and cleaned up jut as fast, as I wanted to show Erik my gift right away. I hoped he liked it, and Shock assured me that he would, I just didn't know if I could trust her.
"Okay, the best part of Christmas besides the food is opening presents!" I exclaimed as I lightly pushed Erik down in a chair and then turned and ran to where I kept his gift well hidden.
I sauntered back to the Phantom with my hands held behind my back. I opened my mouth to tell him to close him eyes, but thought better of him. I didn't think Erik trusted me, and for all I knew, he could think I would try to kill him.
"Here." I said, handing him the neatly wrapped parcel. He nodded and carefully removed the outer paper. He nodded once more when he pulled out the little crystal chandelier, almost as if he approved of it. This sent a million tiny lights dancing around in my stomach, he actually liked it!
Erik motioned for me to help him stand and I did, making sure he didn't fall as he walked over to him miniature Opera house and hung up my gift to that it hung over where the audience would be. I smiled as a faint grin washed over his lips, and he turned to me.
"Perhaps" he began "Christmas is something I have quite missed out on." He said and I smiled.
"It's never too late." I reminded him and he carefully raised one of his icy hands to gently cover my hand, which was entwined with his arm, keeping him upright.
"I should hope not."