Chapter six-The morning after

Christine woke up and reached for Erik only to find his place in the bed empty. Of course she was mildly annoyed with him. One did not appreciate losing one's innocence and waking the next morning to find its new keeper gone. Much less so when they were in pain because after all, she woke to find herself naked and blood dried from between her legs and her lover was nowhere to be found. She heard soft music coming from the other side of the room, beautiful but horribly sad.

It was eerily reminiscent of the music that had tortured her for so long. But it held wildness to it that not even his Don Juan possessed. It made her move her hands over her breasts but this time not with a virgin's awakening but a woman's wanton experience. She looked down at the white sheets now stained slightly pink with the remains of her innocence. A blush stole over her as she recalled last night. She thought she could feel his body cold and swollen atop hers as he moved back and forth on her in that steady rhythm with that instinctual dance.

Christine looked over at Erik just across the room from her and writing down notes with precision. But then he crumpled the paper and tossed the ball into a pile of crumpled papers. Christine picked up a stray wad that had passed by her bed. Her brow furrowed in confusion because this was so beautiful and she began to hum along to it.

"Once there was a night
beneath a moonless sky,
too dark to see a thing
too dark to even try.

I stole to your side,
to tell you I must go.
I couldn't see your face,
but sensed you even so. "

"No…don't sing that song…" he said, his voice strained.

He was covered in a hood and cloak and she could hear him sighing as if in despair. His fingers smoothed down his hood and glared at her from the brim. This annoyed her because of what she had given him last night and she had half a mind to stumble over to him and slap him across the back of his thick skull. But she noticed dried tears and smeared residue streaked across the bridge of his nose. His silver eyes were rimmed in red and swollen as though he had been in a fist fight.

But then this puzzled her how could he be sad after what they had shared last night? Isn't that everything he had ever wanted? She paled, had she been so horrible at pleasuring him that he no longer wanted her? She paled, did he find her ugly? Christine stood up and carefully, supporting her weight on the creaking bed. She tried to stumble over to the other side of the room. Her mild soreness was awkward for her but she had to know. But when she tried to walk her leg protested so much that she had to sit back down.

"Why don't you want me to sing?" she asked, "Does my voice displease you…"

"No, it's not you, it's the song. It's garbage…" he said bitterly, "Throw it out…"

"No it's not, Erik it's lovely." She argued.

"I said, throw it out." He snapped.

Christine flinched at his forceful tone, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, go back to bed and leave me to my work…" she could hear that he was close to tears.

Christine shuddered at the strained brokenness in her lover's voice and tried to soothe him by singing the piece she was holding. He glared at her and stood to his feet walking over to her and wrenching the paper from her, threw it into the fireplace and stormed back over to the piano and sat down heavily. His fingers moved smoothly as if automatically despite his hands shaking over the piano but oddly enough they were still graceful in their musical precision. She could hear him weeping in what sounded as the epitome of sadness.

He threw another paper ball at the fire and missed his target with a sigh of frustration. He got up to retrieve it. She grabbed it before he did and smoothed the wrinkly paper out seeing a gorgeous piece that poured love and devotion through every note of its haunting melody. Erik tried to take it from her but that required him having to pass by the bed. Christine put her hand on his shoulder and he turned standing utterly with a sharp expression that had used to frighten her. Now she sat still as she met his angry gaze with a calm one of her own. Christine gazed at him till his expression of anger became a pleading one filled in with watered eyes.

"Christine please…"

"Shush…"she whispered, "come here…"

She tugged at his arm until he relented and sat down with her. Erik's raindrop eyes were full of that remarkable pain that only he could bring to life. When she removed the hood she saw the deformity was hidden again in the mask. Her hand seemed to reach up and remove his mask of its own accord. She saw fresh blood on his face and she felt her heart break. He must have hurt himself during her nap. Christine hated it when he hurt himself almost as much as she hated his sadness. Taking out her handkerchief she wiped the blood away while it was still liquidy.

It came away easily with the water of his tears but he still winced when she moved the cloth over his injury. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed his malformed head into her shoulder. His face was cold, so very cold but she held him hard wanting to take away the pain to and to give him that love he desperately craved and had been denied for so many years. His hands were shaking as she pulled his arms around her. He felt his tears falling on her head feeling her nuzzle him, tighten her arms around him.

"Erik, what's the matter?" she asked.

"You are going to leave me…" he sobbed, "That song reminds me too much of you…"

"Why would I do that? After last night…or were you absent?" she smirked, trying to inject some humor into the situation.

He glared at her with a look that was plainly unamused and for a moment she saw not her lover but a man starved for affection. The epitome of his sadness was too much for her when she reached for his hands to kiss them he pulled them away and shot to his feet. Christine stood clumsily to her own feet and tried to soothe him with a lullaby but he clapped his hands over his ears and screamed like a wounded animal freshly shot. It was the kind of sound she had heard the night she had first removed his mask, a wretched sound as though he had lost everything that he had ever had.

Christine winced at the pain in his cry and pulled him to his feet and kissed him, "Do you really think after I gave you everything …"

Erik clapped his hands over his face and let out a wretched sound somewhere between a sob and a blood-curdling scream, "No, it was a dream!" He shouted, "Now you'll leave me…"

Christine moved his hands from his face and showed him the blood between her legs where he had claimed her. "It was not a dream…I love you…"

Erik caught her and pulled her close. She snuggled him and he carried her back to the bed where he had basin of Luke-warm water and a cloth. He spread her legs and gently washed away the virgin's blood from her thighs. Erik's eyes widened and he scraped the grainy stains from her his grey eyes filled with an unbelievable amount of remorse in his eyes. Sighing, she climbed on his lap and poured all her love for him into her kiss. Erik gasped and tentatively wrapped his skeletal arms around her. His hands were gentle and caressing and he coaxed her to stand again. She squeezed him tight as she could without hurting him.

He kissed her lips and pulled her close and let himself be held. She reached over and pulled him back down so that she was resting her head on his shoulder. When they broke away she reached across him and picked up a hairbrush. Christine handed it to him and he looked puzzled.

"Erik, would you brush my hair?" she asked.

"Anything, my love," he said.

Erik went to the bed immediately, picking up the bush and doing as he was asked. "Come here and lean back so I can reach your head."

She leaned back into him and he began to work with her hair. His fingers combed out the gnarls in her hair with tenderness unlike any she had ever seen. He brushed her hair and counted to one hundred as though she were a princess. He seemed to smile at her and she leaned back into him when he began to elegantly weave her hair into a sunny-red braid. It was strange that felt so safe in the arms of a murderer but then she knew she had his unwavering devotion.

He would never hurt her that much she knew and she also knew that she loved him and was willing to take that risk for him anyway. His calm hands were as smooth as a bone and as cool as a spring breeze. She relaxed in his arms and snuggled him, he loved her and the warmth of her hair spilled over his icy shoulder causing him to groan. Christine grinned as he entwined his fingers in her hair. Erik seemed to fall asleep against her but when she looked at him his eyes were open slightly he looked thoughtful. He tightened his arms slightly and he looked down at her brightly.

It was a strange thing to see him this happy when in all the time she had known him she had never seen his eyes light up. He raised himself from the bed and kissed her, leaving her in the bed, he picked one of his long shirts up. He walked over to the bed and slipped her into the silk. He lifted her bad ankle and slowly re-stitched it and splinted it. Christine winced for a moment and then sighed as he laid her leg back down.

"Ouch…" she groaned when he tipped her leg up to assess the damage, "Put my leg down that hurts."

"Hush, we seemed to have torn your stitches in our…" he stopped, "over-eagerness."

Christine giggled at his unwillingness to say the word passion even when she was lying naked before him. She reached up and kissed him, pulling him down on her and liking the way he landed full on her where he immediately stiffened with need but tried to pull away. She shook her head and pulled him back down to her but he stood back up and looked up at her with a shine in his eyes that warmed her to the core. It was amazing that eyes that had at one time frightened her and now made her heartbeat quicken and her pulse warm.

She wanted to wipe the doubt from her face but he was already at the piano far out of her reach. She watched him for a bit; watching his eyes grow heavier and heavier until they shut in the euphoria of the notes. It was a sad melody that repeatedly spoke the same question of why she loved him and the words tugged at her heart strings. He reached into the coals of the fireplace and retrieved the piece she had been singing smiling at the duet and walking over to the piano he started to hum softly.

Christine felt her head grow heavy and her voice was too thick to ask him to stop. Erik smiled and whispered a soft goodnight to her and covered her in his scratchy blanket, wishing he were able to wrap her in something more comfortable. But still she smiled at the left-over warmth from him and her together the previous night. His love smiled in her sleepy state when he kissed her cheek with his horrible, malformed lips.

Her reaction to his touch and affections still amazed him but even as he watched her sleep he had a sinking feeling in his heart. Erik sat down by the bed and watched her for a moment more and thought of last night. How soft she was…Her body so warm and pure beneath his hands and her shield breaking away and letting him inside her most secret haven. His body came alive at the memory and a few tears trickled down his cheek at how perfect the moment was.

Erik stared out of the window at rainy woodland surrounding his home and sighed turning his attention to his sleeping love. A breeze blew his flimsy door open and a blast of wind and water blasted his face. He got up and went to the door shoving it shut with a semi-loud thunk and Christine groaned. Erik looked over fearing that he had woke her but she was soon snoring again, deeply lost in her dreams. He stared at her for a moment, marveling at how innocent she looked there in his bed.

Despite the loud noise emanating from her she looked so peaceful almost childlike. Her golden-red hair splayed out like a halo, silky from his attentions with the brush. Erik moved her outstretched arm back to her chest and folded her other hand on top of it. She smiled as he selfishly lowered his horrible lips to her hands. Reaching over he ran his icy hand over the bite-marks on her porcelain throat, like red hearts leaving a permanent kiss there. To him however they looked like blemishes, horrid little marks left by the Nosferatu. A demon's mark, worse yet was the fact that he had given it to her.

Erik squeezed his eyes shut, two tears falling down each of his cheeks and he shook with silent tears. He got to his feet with a sigh and went to the door opening it dejectedly; shushing it softly when the door creaked on its rickety hinges. Turning back he stole one last look at Christine. His dream was over; he had held her in his arms, spent a night with her by his side and even gotten to comb her hair. But alas it was cold and harsh reality in which the dream must descend into nothingness.

He had everything he ever wanted for one golden moment and now it was over. With a sigh of self-hatred he let out a frustrated shout and slammed the door viscously. The rain glistened before him and then a loud clap of thunder shook the sky like an earthquake. The drizzle turned into a full on downpour making his already somber mood even worse. Then with a jagged movement a bolt of lightning sliced the sky. Erik groaned and stepped out into it letting the chill soak into his already-cold body. Erik stood out there in the rain for what felt like hours, hoping to get cold enough to catch hypothermia and die. His teeth chattered, his knees banged together and his body shivered with the cold.

Somewhere in the clattering of the rain he heard a voice," Erik what are you doing?"

He turned in her direction and saw her standing lopsided in the doorway, leaning heavily on the frame to take the pressure of her bad leg. Her face was pale and the way the shirt she wore rode up on her thighs and back revealing half of her rump made him burn all over again. Her eyes were filled with worry and her hair was tousled and badly windblown. She had never looked more desirable to him at that moment and he turned away groaning with the ache to go back and sweep her into his arms and kiss the living hell out of her.

"Erik get in here now!" she snapped.

"Go back inside..." He said.

"No, you get back inside you're soaked." She retorted stumbling towards him.

"I am leaving Christine…"

"Leaving?" she asked.

"Yes." He said.

"When are you coming back?"

"I'm not."

She paled, "What?"

He became distracted and started to hum:

"And now that we're done…before the son can rise…ashamed of how I look…

And wounded by the lies, I cannot remain and I must say goodbye…

"To my one perfect night, beneath a moonless sky…"

Smack!

The sound echoed like a gunshot beneath the rain and Erik stood there in shock as the delicate young woman he loved hit him again and again on the back of his head. He did not turn to her even to stop her because he could hear tears in her throat. Finally she let out a moan of frustration and shoved him but he did not lose his balance. Christine had no words to describe the frustration of this oh-so-awkward morning after. But one thing was for sure she was not going to let him walk away from her if she could help it.

"Damn it Erik look at me!" He did not turn and she shouted, "last night that was not a lie."

"You slept with me out of pity then… you never loved me…"

"What are you talking about?"

"I am a creature of darkness…

This is the life I have known…

God gave me courage to accept

I'm always alone…"

Christine slapped her forehead hard enough to make herself dizzy and she swooned starting to fall forward. He turned around and caught her when she fell forward and he pulled her close to support her weight. She fell on him and he fell back to the ground where he landed with a splat. The mud flew up and squirted her in the face but she could have cared less and forced her lips on his so deeply that he didn't even have the strength to stop her from pinning him. She pressed her mouth to him and began tearing the buttons of his shirt open and frantically pulled him out of it.

She struggled out of his shirt and then with utter desperation she straddled him and tugged his slacks down to his knees. Erik kept his eyes shut as she accepted him despite the pain he knew she was in from her feminine soreness. He did not want to open his eyes and see the aching on her face Christine had no words for him because this was one of those moments where nothing she could say would make it right. It was over too quickly for both of them, both left breathless and gasping before they collapsed on the water-softened earth.

Erik opened his eyes after several minutes and pulled himself to his feet and looked down at her. He then, ever the gentleman extended his hand to her and took her to her feet and then unable to stop himself pulled her into his arms. She clung to him and cried with him for several minutes, never realizing just how alone they really were without each other. They cried till they had no tears and as Erik swept her off her feet and carried her into the cottage his eyes filled again. This time however they were tears of joy for as he laid her down in the bed and climbed in beside her he felt loved for himself…