Katja's fingers on the keys were as awkward as Erik's were graceful. She wondered how on earth he could have so much patience. He never complained or got angry with her, only stopped to show her how to play it correctly.
When she fumbled for the millionth time, she hung her head and sighed in exasperation. "You just started," Erik replied in response to her growing frustration. "You just need practice. Try it again." She tried to play the melody again and failed. Katja buried her face in her hands, unable to look at him. He was so amazing, and she was just so horrible. How could he stand listening to her?
"Let's try something." He had her play the phrase slowly, one chord at a time. When she was able to play it at the slower tempo, Erik had her try her it at a faster speed. They repeated the process over and over again until Katja could play it. "See? I knew you could do it."
She shook her head. "Not like you."
"Well it's not a fair comparison. I'm the Phantom of the Opera," he murmured.
Her eyes widened. "What? What does that mean?"
"That's what they called me," he explained. "I worked behind the scenes to influence the opera house. Between that and my mask, it was a nickname I acquired along the way."
"Will you play for me?"
"Anything in particular?"
"Something you wrote."
He nodded and his fingers went into motion. Katja slid away to give him space and sat in her favorite armchair. She loved watching Erik play. He got lost in the music and just let everything around him melt away, and he usually pulled her away with him. As the music began to take over, she curled up, closed her eyes, and just let the world around her fade away.
Erik's desire was insatiable. He pulled Katja closer to him, claiming her mouth again. She returned his kiss with equal fervor, her hands running up his chest. A moan of pleasure escaped her lips, but he quickly silenced her with another kiss.
Breaking contact for a moment to take a few needed gasps of air, Erik studied the girl in his arms. Her lips were swollen from the ferocity of their passion, her eyes sparkled with arousal. Katja wore nothing to cover her breasts but a corset. "Touch me," she whispered.
"I'm not going to treat you like they did," Erik protested. His voice was husky with desire, which didn't make a very convincing argument. She leaned in to kiss him again, but Erik turned away. He knew if he gave into his lust now, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from pushing too far. "I won't take advantage of you. Not after Javert hurt you so badly."
"You won't hurt me, you promised me you wouldn't," she whispered in his ear. "I need you Erik. Make me yours." She grabbed his hand and guided it to her breast, but he pulled away. "Please Erik," Katja groaned. "Don't make me beg."
After being granted permission, he immediately seized her lips again. His hand brushed across one of her soft mounds. She moaned as Erik lined kisses along her jawline and down her neck. "Oh Erik," Katja cried breathlessly, throwing her head backwards to grant him greater access to the sensitive skin.
Her hands pulled his head closer to her as he kissed the crook of her neck. Her fingers ran through his hair, before locking her fingers behind the nape of his neck, pulling him even closer. His trail of kisses continued to travel downward. Erik gently pressed his lips to the top of each of her breasts, eliciting a gasp from Katja.
He reached around, his fingers fumbling with the laces of her corset. When they were finally undone, Erik began to slowly peel the fabric away from her body, torturing them both with the anticipation. But he could take the wait no longer and ripped the fabric away from her body and…
Erik woke with a gasp. He pulled his mask off and rubbed his eyes. He must have nodded off while playing, something that he used to do all the time. Looking over, he saw Katja sleeping in an armchair. Apparently he wasn't the only one who had fallen asleep.
Trying not to disturb her, Erik carefully took her into his arms. She began to stir at the movement. "Shhhh," he cooed. "I'm just taking you to bed." Katja whimpered at his words, making Erik realize that his phrasing would be upsetting to her. He carried her into her bedroom and placed her on the bed, tucking her in.
After taking a step back, Erik looked at the sleeping girl. She was completely at peace, there was no sign of the pain that Javert had put her through. He brushed a stray hair off her forehead. "Good night Katja," he murmured as he left the room.
Returning to the music room, Erik let out a sigh. He couldn't believe his dream. If he couldn't have Christine like that all those years ago, he really couldn't have Katja. Erik knew he wouldn't have given in to his lust as easily as he had in his dream.
Or would he? No. He knew he couldn't risk frightening Katja. Nadir's words echoed back to him. As much as he'd like to deny it, he was getting rather attached to the German girl.
Erik enjoyed having the company she provided. Now that she had been here for as long as she had, she didn't seem to fear the mask, which set her apart from everyone he had ever met except for Nadir.
His friend had accused him of taking her in simply out of selfishness. Could that really be what he was doing? Erik thought he was doing what was best for her, but that didn't mean it wasn't out of selfishness. Was it a chance that he had brought her here to be the companion that Christine refused to be? Is that why he kept having those dreams about her?
No. Not an option, Erik reminded himself. If Katja wanted to leave, then he would take her. If she wanted to stay, then he would treat her with the respect and dignity she deserved. That meant these dreams were going to have to stop.
A whimper echoed out of her room. Erik found Katja tossing and turning violently in her bed, crying in her sleep. "You're safe. No one can harm you," he whispered, putting his hand on her cheek. She turned into the caress. It was an unconscious action, but still…Most people recoiled from his touch. Maybe she really did accept him. Damn, damn, damn, Erik thought. She is not an option!