HI I'M SORRY FOR DYING SO LONG.

More apologies and explainations at the end.

This chapter deserves the M rating.

Chapter Twenty

Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.
Rabindranath Tagore

When the children had been playing in the room and had gone to bed, Christine then spun on Erik, they still had unfinished business. At first, the children had been too excited to sleep, seeing how the bed was fluffy beyond belief. With the help of Madame Giry's coaxing and Erik's violin, Christine had finally put them to sleep,

"Erik." She said, unblinkingly. "Now, speak."

"Do you still harp on that incident? I thought you understood my rationale." he bit back, acerbically. She nodded, but looked up to him with a tad bit of resignation. Drawing closer to him, she gave a small sigh. Her eyes focused on him as he gently caressed her hair lovingly, breathing in its scent. Leaning down, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, sighing too. Broken, he wrapped her in his arms, feeling almost as if she would disappear with the wind. Erik felt her again, he wraith-like form buffeted by the chills that was the house late at night. He had hurt his Christine, his beautiful wife, all in his want to please her. Mournfully, he looked into her eyes again, beseeching his dearest wife as if in their silent way of making amends. As they walked up the stairs together, their bodies moved as one, as a fluid motion that was but the both of them together alone. His eyes glittered lovingly as the apologetic motions of kisses grew more heated and more frequent, their contact drowning the both of them in love.

Christine stared deeply into Erik's eyes, softly moaning as he licked her lips. As they entered their room, Christine let herself topple onto the bed, Erik above her, letting out a deep sigh as she collapsed into the bed. She reached up to cup Erik's jaw, placing a soft kiss on it.

"What are you instigating, little girl?" he murmured, laughing softly.

"I missed you…and I want us to have a child," she replied, whispering the last bit, wrapping her arms around him as she let out a giddy laugh, pulling him closer. He let out a contented sigh, conceding to her as he returned the favor of a kiss.

"Mm." Christine slid her hands down his back, pulling the shirt out of the waistband of his pants bit by bit. Emboldened by her act, Erik flipped her over such that she was pinned underneath him, and she let out a slight gasp at the swift movement.

"This," he said in a low growl, pulling at her chemise, "comes off."

"Oh," was all Christine managed as he ripped the flimsy cloth in two, pulling it off her body. The cool air washed over her body, heating it as she felt the evidence of her arousal beginning to pool between her legs. Christine let out a soft gasp as Erik lovingly caressed her breast with his wicked tongue, taking the milky globe whole in his mouth. She felt the strained material of his pants against her naked legs as he continued suckling her breast, gently stroking her face lovingly. She let out a low moan, approving of his unbridled want of her. Reaching down to his mask, she yanked it slightly and let his whole getup tumble off, wig and mask and all. Feeling the uneven planes of his deformity caress her collarbones, she blushed, wrapping her legs around his body, wriggling underneath his ministrations.

"Er-ik!" she gasped, as his body moved up to lick a particularly sensitive spot behind her ear. He ignored her cries however, and continued to lick his trail down his wife's precious body, tongue flicking out to tease her hardened areolas or to swirl in ber belly button, making her writhe in delight underneath him. Ungracefully, she yanked the white shirt from him, tearing it as he had done to her chemise. Amused, he looked up at her with a growing fire in his eyes, letting out a low growl as her hips ground up into his well toned body, goading him into his growing want for her. She let out a soft mewl of delight as her hands found him in the waistband of his pants, sliding the obstructive material out of the way, cupping his hardened member in her small hands. Slowly, she moved, experimentally, up and down the engorged shaft as she teased the tip with her fingernail, flicking it as she felt the precum cover her small, white fingers. Erik let out a low moan, eyes hooded as he gazed at her.

"You play with fire, mademoiselle."

"So burn me, Erik! I burn for you…" Christine said, bending her head to taste him. Her soft mass of curls fell over Erik's shaft, leaving feather light touches over it. Erik gasped, almost wanting to scream. Christine's soft touches on him made him almost want to release from the new sensations she brought to him.

"Christine…" he growled, capturing her attention, as he roughly brought her lips to meet his. The kisses they shared had never been with such all consuming passion nor fire, as he ran his hands over the body in his arms, hearing her delightful moans as they connected in their hands and lips. Her hands wrapped around his neck as she groaned, feeling his kisses on her collarbone. Their movements almost frenzied, she pulled and he gave, he demanded and she succumbed, as their want engulfed them. And yet, they still weren't done. Erik's form pressed into Christine as she gave a small squeak, wrapping her legs around him, his member splitting her open, but never entering her. Their bodies moved fluidly as one, the sinful foreplay they engaged in as they would soon conjoin together as the married couple they were again. Erik heaved himself off Christine with reluctance, even if it was to be for the slightest moment. Slowly, they moved, perfectly as if they were actors who had practiced their movements a hundred times, but with the base, carnal instinct of want, as woman guided man into her, joining them in a smooth movement. Filled, and the hunger satiated for the barest of moments, she let out a satisfied groan as he, before the fire burned in their abdomens with a force greater than ever. If eyes were the window to a person's soul, then the fire would have burned them both to blindness as their gazes fixated on each other hungrily and Erik began to move in her.

"You are mine, Christine Daae."

She could only moan in reply as he smothered her with kisses and showered her body with more. As her eyes closed and rolled into the back of her head, all she could think of was the pleasure that was him. Instinctively, she bucked up into him, moving along to the rhythm. His eyes only focused on the woman before him, and his senses on the way they both melded together. Christine's voice soared above the lower register of his grunts, her gentle sighs and moans goading him on to pick up the pace.

"Erik!" she cried, as he grabbed her hands, manacles around them as she felt the restraints on them. He smirked, bucking into her with wild abandon as he watched the expressions of surprise and then pleasure as he rocked into her body. Christine felt the fire burn deep in her loins, her belly as he released her hands eventually, and slowly, she felt the coil in her belly begin to tense up, and she cried his name, falling off the edge of pleasure as he did, feeling her tighten around his engorged member, leaving them both breathless. With half lidded eyes, Erik regarded his wife, who faced him with her own set of beautifully entrancing eyes.

"I love you," he murmured, slowly slipping under the covers with her and pulling the coverlet over, that they would rest, in a night as peaceful as twelve cannons firing.

Raoul ran in the rain, it falling in sheets around his face. He could not wait any longer, no he would not! Gritting his teeth, he ran on, not even bothering to hire any hansom cab whatsoever. How would you describe even a place as hidden as that? And yet that monster seemed to get about from there to civilization so easily! Damn him, how long had it been since Christine had seen the sunlight? In the conversation he had with Erik, he realized soon that he had made no question about Christine's happiness, not really, directly. How could he question her choice? Still, to him, she was his Angel, his loved one. Tears mingled with the rain, failing to keep his emotions in check, much like a chain of pearls, broken as the promises they had made one summer. But then again, he asked, how will summer ever be constant? Nothing lived forever. Could he hope that the love, was it even love? No! It could not be love to such a monster, Raoul reasoned. He sneezed, soaked to the bone. Just then, he reached the outhouse, where it was locked. Curse that man and his need for privacy! Raoul swore, as he slumped wearily against the cold marble. His thoughts were all but with Christine. In dreams, she was there, but she always distanced herself from him. Why, Christine, why? He screamed and banged against the cold confines of his mind, sobbing.

When he awoke, he found himself draped on a piano stool, and a pair of intense green eyes watched him from the darkness. It glittered as it glowed, and it scared him half to death.

"Have you made your choice then?" a voice cut acerbically through the blinding darkness. It seemed disembodied, as if the chair spoke to him! Raoul trembled involuntarily, and the chair all but seemed to give a smug laugh. Damn him and his ability to see in the dark like the demon he was! Unlike Raoul, who had lived a life in the light, Erik knew the darkness since he was a child. Brought up in that infernal hellhole, abandoned to the dark forever, he knew each shadow like his friend. Raoul glanced up at the dancing green eyes that hovered over him.

"I came here for one purpose. To tell you…"

"Yes."

"No. I won't leave Christine to the likes of you!" Raoul scrambled backward, even though he wanted to stand his ground, but the dark was not his element. He could not fight, not in this dark. Best to drag the monster out into the light, best to shame him, where he would flee, he thought. Raoul gritted his teeth and groped in the dark for the door.

Damn! He swore, as a firm hand grabbed him from the back and he cried out in pain, writhing.

"I recommend we have another talk, Monsieur. Clearly you did not understand that although I presented you with a choice, it was crystal clear what you should have chosen."

Raoul bit his tongue—did he have a choice even? All he could manage was a weak very well, before the world swam before his eyes and he succumbed to the darkness he fought against so, once more.

Erik turned over in the bed. Although Christine was still asleep, the incessant drips of the rain, which had turned into a thunderstorm again seemed to be a discordant chorus in his ears, far more effective than any morning calls nor alarm clocks. He frowned, pulling on his dressing gown as he decided to pay the outhouse another visit to calm his frayed nerves. Silently, he padded down the steps, one by one. Strange, he could almost make out a broken voice that sounded much like the Vicomte. His interest aroused, he hurried down the last few steps with the speed of a bobcat after its prey, leaping across the black expanse of marble before he reached the door, flipping the switch, albeit gracelessly and with a bit of fumbling due to his hurry. Who was this unwanted intruder that should invade the confines of the peace of his kingdom of Music? They would certainly not go unpunished, specially if it was that blasted boy! Erik donned a spare mask he had swiped off the table of his den, putting on his cape as well, such that he may seem imposing to the intruder, no matter how fragile they were. He opened the door to the outhouse, the singular door that led to the outer world, one in marble, unlike the stained glass that covered the other walls of the little room. Seeing a form slumped over, he instantly recognized it as the damnable fop, and dragged him in, cringing at the fact that he had now caused the marble flooring to be extremely slippery, not to mention the mud that covered it. Erik sighed, propping him up against the piano stool before repositioning him to sit nicely on the stool. The form slumped involuntarily, and Erik turned away, irritated at the pathetic excuse of a brother. Dragging a chair meant exclusively for guests should he ever turn this into a performance space, he sat and waited, waited for the boy to awake.

When he should awake though, it was only an hour later or so by Erik's reckoning. He awoke abruptly, as Erik had begun to stir from his post of watching him, wanting to play the Surprise Symphony to wake the slumbering man. Quickly, Erik resumed his seat, speaking to the boy.

"Have you made your choice then?" he spat, not wishing for the slightest bit of formalities with this damn fledgling. Certainly, he had not come all the way to give the right answer that Erik wanted, Erik was sure of that. After all, he looked as if he had ran, RAN in the rain just to get there! If not for a show of gallantry and fight, then what not? Erik projected his voice neatly to the chair, watching in amusement as Raoul jumped.

"I came here for one purpose. To tell you…"

Ah, the dumb fish spoke, Erik mused, having seen his gaping mouth and bulging eyes, instantly likening it to the fish he saw in the market but days ago.

"Yes?" Erik continued. Perhaps the boy would see reason.

"No."

Damn him!

"I won't leave Christine to the likes of you!"

Erik rose to strike the boy, holding back only as he ran to the door, a futile attempt to escape.

"I recommend we have another talk, Monsieur. Clearly you did not understand that although I presented you with a choice, it was crystal clear what you should have chosen."

All he saw was Raoul's fearful eyes as the boy blacked out again.

I feel sick still D; I probably will wrap this up soon having lost the muse sort of for writing altogether, having never really recovered after promos :(

I'm sorry if the ending may feel abrupt, but I swear I'm leaving some loose ends IN CASE I happen to take up this story again and write a sequel-of which you all probably won't see me for about a year or so-having major A levels next year OTL

I'm having my A level Project Work Oral Presentation tomorrow and am feeling a wreck, not to mention I have to write another document tonight.

Sometimes, I want to be horrible and pepper my sentences with "FUCK IT."

But I shall not :D and continue the masquerade of the nice authoress, although I have aliases online that are as dark and as sarcastic as the Phantom. Would you like to tangle with them? Sigh, been editing slides to the millimeter today. Since 11am. All the way until 6pm. Wheeee. And THAT idiot in my class who received the brunt of my sarcasm today, I'm not sorry.

In fact, I hope you die for stressing me further. :D