Chapter 10

Reactions

Erik laid awake long after they were on the boat, too restless to sleep while unanswered questions plagued his mind. for what felt like hours watching the sun slowly reach its highest point over the cerulean water. From the corner of his eye he saw the water through the circular window of the cabin, noticing how much it looked like sheets of gossamer silk and blue satin. Erik made a note to make Christine a dress of this exact shade when they landed, a smile creeping over his face as the imagined his young beautiful wife in such a gown. Her strawberry blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight as he and her walked hand-in-hand down the street, she looks like a beautiful fairy queen and he her mighty black-clad guardian.

They would be the perfect star-studded couple she would be famous at the Manhattan opera where she would awe the masses with a voice that people would die to hear. He would open a small music school where just down the street he would teach people mediocre music skills as their minds were not big enough to handle the purity of real music. They would pay him handsomely of course because Americans were just dumb enough to pay richly for a life of simplicity. Erik grinned as he imagined what he would buy with that money and how rich he would become. The first thing he would buy would be the best of everything; he wasn't quite sure what everything was but he was going to get Christine everything he could possibly afford.

He could see them together, him in his opera cape in a four-horse carriage helping his beautiful bride step down from an elegant ebony coach in that blue dress. For once people would look at him not in disgust but in envy. He would brush her lips as he took her inside to her work where he would leave her at her dressing room door with a kiss and a wish for a good show. He could just see when she would finish her performance and he would kiss her and hand her more roses than she could carry. She would smile and kiss him deeply on the lips in front of the entire ballet to prove their love.

Erik would smile back and steal one last kiss before he went to box five for the show, not really watching the show but the audience. It was more of a pleasure for him to watch the men drool over her knowing that she was entirely and irrevocably his. Erik was amused by the lust on their faces and would pity them the rotting that their souls would do when they find out she was married. He would of course, forget them and become lost in his wife's voice standing with the crowd at the end, feeling that swell of love and other –ungentlemanly feelings- rise within him when he saw her again and race to her room to kiss her and declare their love.

He would offer her his arm and she would take it and they would wave to the shocked masses as she kissed his masked cheek. They would leave into the moonlit town back to the carriage where they would take a romantic and leisurely ride to the comfortable apartment they owned together. She would be grumpy on the ride home (she always hated carriage rides because of how bumpy they are) complaining about the way it made her bottom sore. He would pull her on his lap obligingly and she would cuddle closer to him dozing off a little. She would drowse until he woke her with a tender kiss upon their arrival where he would carry her over the threshold and remove her wrap.

He would deposit her on the comfy sofa after helping her hang up her coat. There, she would relax and read a book in the sitting room while he made her a cup of her favorite English tea with milk to soothe any stress on her throat. He would light a warm fire as he set her cup down, she would thank him and sip the tea the warmth making her sleepy. Erik saw himself sitting down with her as the book fell slowly fell from her hand. He would read it to her with great animation it would be one of those sad romances that she loved so much. His voice will sap the rest of her stress and she would curl up on him like a kitten. They would fall asleep like that; it would be this way for the rest of their lives...just her and him and their love.

They would grow old side by side together having people come to see the home of the great retired diva and her oddity husband. People would gather around to hear her still-beautiful voice sing an old song from their past. She would pick a duet and his eyes would mist over with happy tears as he weakly finished it with her. Their voices no longer holding the power that had astonished the masses but still in the same emotional state that brought people to tears. The people would leave when the song was done and Erik would go inside to his typewriter and scratch out his memoir which would be a best-seller about the man with the face of death and his beautiful love.

Christine would come at the end of the night and pull him up from his chair and take him to bed. They would be too old to make love by then so Erik would cover her up and she would hide in his shoulder whispering into his skin about the memories of their lives when they were young. He would kiss her head and tell her he loved her and then in their old age they would die in each other's arms leaving their friends to find them in love even in death come the morning.

It was a beautiful fantasy, almost like the end of this horror story with a, 'and they lived happily ever after' at the end. Erik found himself laughing deeply, the deep soft sound filled with an amount of joy that he had not felt in years if he ever had. His life, like many opera's was a sad story, one of pain and torture, of utter despair. But unlike the opera, he had his happy ending at last, just like the tale of Beauty and the Beast. Only this time Belle truly loved the beast in his every form, as massacred and twisted as he appeared. Though he would never truly be the handsome prince, though his curse was forever she truly loved him.

He looked down at his sleeping wife and wondered how she could sleep so deeply when they were on this rocking boat. His laughter grew a little louder and he pulled off his shirt looking at the scars on his chest. He shook his head, the salty air caressing his bare skin. This time he tipped his head back letting the cool wind tickle his throat and chuckling at the sensation. He had never laughed to himself in anything but the unbridled genius of his wicked intentions. But now, he laughed for the simple enjoyment of being able to do so. So that was just what he did, he laughed at the beauty of everything, the light the joy, the prospect of the future and above all the beauty and newness of it.

He could not believe how little he had noticed the beauty of the daylight world, how he had always scorned it as garish and insignificant. True the night held a special kind of subtle elegance, the kind where lovemaking could be done by the soft light of candles. The night was meant for music, passion and secrets, its colors of flame and sex and romance where the daytime colors were too bright and pale and sometimes stung the eyes. But he had never really noticed just how many different shades of color there were. The only thing missing from this perfect scene was music and he tried to think of an appropriate aria for the situation when the musician in him tuned into the strange music of the sea.

It was a strange and interesting music, but a charming one unlike anything Erik had ever heard. The sounds were vibrant and filled with new life richer than anything he had ever seen. He heard the sounds of gulls cawing and squawking as the waves sloshed against the side of the boat. It's steady even rhythm as it thumped in a disconnected tune more freeform than he was used to but it still had its beauty as did any music. His mind silently drummed up lyrics that his voice did not say out of respect for his wife who was sleeping in his lap. He ran his fingers through her hair tenderly to ease her deeper into her nap and it seemed to work because if it were possible she felt even heavier with the weight of her rest.

He laughed gently to himself at the thought of anyone waking her because it was impossible to wake the woman. She was such a deep sleeper that the only thing that could wake her was those awful thunderstorms that she was frightened of. Erik ran his hand unconsciously through her curls, silently reassuring her that no one would ever hurt her again. He tried to say it out loud for so many months but it was just one of those things that had no words. No words, no music, and no nothing could describe the love he had for her.

Deep in the shadows he found himself hearing a wordless song in his mind. It was one of love by the sound of the tune. He had no words for it however, but then when he looked down at her he felt words coming before he could stop them. There melody did not match the outside music but they matched the feelings pooling in his heart. They were lyrics of love, romance and the purest intentions, not like the ones he had written for Christine in Don Juan Triumphant. These words were innocent and romantic and almost as disgustingly cute as what the fop had sang to her on the roof that painful night a year ago. But these lyrics were made of what he felt, there was no request or demands in these word… just pure and honest love.

"I've waited a hundred years

But I'd wait a million more for you

Nothing prepared me for the privilege of being yours

If I had only felt the warmth within your touch

If I had only seen how you smile when you blush

Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough

I would have known what I was living for

What I've been living for

Your love is my turning page

Only the sweetest words remain

Every kiss is a cursive line

Every touch is a redefining phrase

I surrender who I've been for who you are

Nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart

If I had only felt how it feels to be yours

I would have known what I've been living for all along

What I've been living for…"

Christine sighed and curled up into him, her lips parted as she snored into his shoulder. The sound made him want to sleep too and so he tucked her head snuggly under his chin. Her hair was silky like a beautiful little blanket to keep his poor face warm, soothing the itchiness that his mask caused. It wasn't long before he felt himself sleeping, too comfortable to fight it. It was amazing that she had that kind of effect on him so as to both soothe him to the point of sleep or to inflame him with her kiss and her passion. He pulled her into his arms, so that he was her bed. Erik loved how warm she was, how good she always smelled and inhaled deeply as he fell asleep.

Christine woke up soon afterwards feeling pleasantly warm and peaceful in Erik's gentle arms. She had no idea where she was or how she got there one minute she was with him on a boat. Christine smiled at first, thinking this was a dream of some sort and any moment now she would awaken in the inn. But then she blinked her eyes twice over and noticed that she was awake. Christine went as white as a sheet. Erik was snoring softly with his chin atop her head, making tiny gurgling sounds that Christine admittedly found adorable. Who knew that the Phantom could make such small noises as he slept?

He looked so innocent and vulnerable laying there snoozing away like a little baby. She looked at her husband and felt a tender smile touching her lips as she watched him snuggling into the pillow, hiding his face in its softness. Christine laughed and kissed him on the cheek like people did in the stories. He responded even in his sleep by rubbing her head gently with his hands tenderly before relaxing again. Christine found herself stroking his head, toying with the tufts of dark hair as she remembered how gentle he was. She removed the mask and head-piece and ran her fingers over the marred flesh and holes tenderly as though she were trying to soothe the ache that she knew the wounds must cause him. He mumbled something akin to her name and nuzzled the top of her head with his stubble-roughened chin.

It seemed a shame to wake him but she needed some answers and so she jostled him slightly. Erik moaned softly and then his raindrop peeked open a crack, he smiled at her sleepily and pulled her close to him again. His eyes shut and he went back to sleep and Christine curious as she was to find out where her husband had taken her got up to look around. The room was made of beautiful but well-warn wood in need of a good polishing, there was a tub and stove in the corner for taking a hot bath. Erik was lying on the cot sleeping away and the windows were circular and there was nothing but blue outside.

It wasn't long before she noticed that she was on a boat. Not that she minded boats; papa took her sailing all the time when they lived in the house by the sea, but still the whole thing was a rather curious affair all together. Christine felt a smile creeping over her face and shook her head at her sleeping husband with a loving glance. Erik and his surprises, he was probably whisking her away to spoil her for a little while and then bring her back to Paris to start their lives together. He woke up when a wave jostled him grunting like any normal man would at the unpleasantness of being woken. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, leaning his head down on his chest for a moment to catch his mind dozing off again and wake up. Christine shook her head apologetically at him and kissed him as a way of saying sorry for disturbing his rest. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap where they kissed for a long moment.

She pushed him down on the bed and began to deepen the kiss as she pulled open the buttons of his cravat. He kissed her back his hands automatically finding his favorite place on her body. Christine groaned softly when his tongue darted in her mouth and sucked her breath straight from her lungs. He slouched a little so that he was over her in his favorite position of dominance; she anchored him to her mouth in a long drugging kiss that he groaned into. His arms came around her and she moaned as she loosened her gown feeling herself start to burn with that feeling of lust only he could arouse. She began to move his hand to her breasts but he pushed lightly a negative sign that puzzled her.

"Angel stop I need to talk to you." He said regretfully pulling away.

"Shush Erik we have the rest of our lives to talk we are on our honeymoon so let's just enjoy ourselves for the moment and worry about idle chatter later."

Erik shook his head; his poor wife thought they were on a honeymoon and seemed so happy about it. He got to his feet, swallowing hard he took a deep steadying breath and took both her hands in his. The trust in her blue eyes, the love everything, it broke his heart over ruining this moment with her. He shook his head and kissed her lips, wanting to pour every apology he would find himself too sorry to actually voice. She responded accordingly, her hands cupping the back of his head and deepening it. He pulled away and looked at her framing her face, and then he finally spoke.

"Christine, we aren't on our honeymoon."

"We aren't?" she echoed.

"No," he said slowly, choosing his words carefully, "We are moving to America because someone found out who I am…"

He waited uneasily for her to respond as her eyes widened and she backed away from him. His heart was breaking at the sight of what appeared to be blatant rejection. Erik wished she would say something, anything to show that she did not hate him. But she said nothing instead all the color drained from her face. He said her name but she didn't hear him, she took a shallow and shaky and then her eyes rolled back in her head and she swayed. The last thing she felt was Erik catching her as her world went black.