Chapter 13
A Promise kept Part 2
Erik's POV
I watched my angel as she slept in my arms, touching her neck to see if she was warm enough and indeed she was. Her skin was soft and as warm as fresh buttered toast, and her snores were like the purring of a beautiful Siamese cat. I smiled and ran a hand through her curls, in response she snored wearily, completely knocked out in my embrace. I kissed her forehead and stared at the ceiling. If I closed my eyes I could just see the night when I revealed myself to her. What a night it was, she had been standing there in the wedding dress of Elyssa the Empress from Hannibal and looked stunning.
Flashback
There was no doubt in my mind that she had been right for the role, despite the sobbing and fainting in the arms of her accompaniment. The audience smiled, in a kind of nostalgic trance or at least the older ones did. The younger ones had that faraway look as though they were lost in the fantasy of the opera. My pride of course was filled by seeing the famed Jeannette le Blanc, the oldest opera singer to alumni here. There was a shine and glimmer in her old eyes, as she obviously relived the glory days of her old career.
Her approval meant the most to me because she had at one time been called the greatest voice in Paris when she was twice her age. She knew that she was not only beautiful but innocent and young at the same time. I hoped for Christine's sake that she got to meet the woman. She had been Christine's idol since she had arrived here. To make it even better Jeanette was the first to stand in an ovation giving her slow but steady claps. They were purposeful and rising in volume till others joined in calling, 'Brava!' Christine saw Jeanette and then things went horribly wrong…
I had known that her voice was ready for this, it had been so for months, hell it had been beyond ready. But apart from her voice was her inexperience on the stage. I had forgotten that she was only a young ingénue and her spirit was not ready for the make-or-break memento of a real opera. The shock of such a welcoming and prideful reception must have been enough to cause her to swoon. As she was carried off I noticed she looked like the beautiful Marguerite incarnate fainting at the realization of her own beauty…
I was apparently not the only one to notice as that blasted boy had come in to see her. I watched as he arrived with armfuls of flowers that would have made a bride stumble if she used them as a bouquet. He had prattled on some nauseating chatter about their childhood and her Papa as if he could know anything on the subject. True he was her childhood playmate but that was nine years ago and memories of the human race faded over time. How dare he act like he knew her when I, her angel of music, knew her to the depths of her very soul?
The boy knew little of her; in fact he was all about him, the selfish fool! Instead of congratulating her on a performance well done he was reminding her of how he saved her scarf from the ocean years ago. Good lord the way he went on one would think he threw himself to his death for that little piece of fabric. I found myself snickering, something I seldom, no never do as he went on and on about being only fourteen and soaked to the skin. He could be an actor; I would not deny him that, the drama on his face was absolutely comical.
"Christine Daaë, where is your red scarf." He said in that disgustingly solicitous vanilla voice.
I watched as my Christine removed some of her Jewels, "Monsieur?" she sounded as though she was taken aback.
I watched him through narrowed eyes as that blonde-haired blue eyed dandy was pulling at the ruffles of his puffy white sleeves. He took no notice of her slightly startled tone as he smirked, flexing his arms at his own reflection in the mirror. It was amusing to me to watch him forget she was in the room entirely as he became enraptured with himself. This was so typical of the de Chagny clan, or at least that was what I had gathered from watching his brother, God help us all! I had seen that pigheaded Comte Philippe waltzing around and flashing his platinum all over the place. It was no wonder that his younger brother was just as into himself as the rest of them.
The boy put on a pout, "You can't have lost it," he was sashaying toward her in that overstuffed aristocratic way, "Not after all the trouble I took, and I was just fourteen and soaked to the skin!"
I gagged and then my heart stopped, she was laughing, laughing and smiling at him. Her blue eyes shining as she said, "Oh it is you!"
He was grinning like a Cheshire cat and puffed out his chest in such a display of pride it appeared he would crow like a rooster at any moment. Dressed all in blue like that he gave me the impression of a peacock. I simply did not understand how people could find this over-dressed, self-absorbed fop attractive! All right granted, he was blonde and handsome and boyish but that ego was more that anyone should have to suffer through. Anyone including myself, especially me! Surely Christine would not fall so easily for the charms of this overgrown child.
The sight of her blushing and swooning over that fop was enough to make me want to vomit. As a matter of fact I did vomit; all over the bloody wall, sour spit and everything else, (mostly an access of celebratory wine) I just couldn't take the sight of her with the boy anymore and so I hid in the shadows and smiled as she refused his invitation to dinner. My smile faded as he refused to take no for an answer and she blushed. He left and I watched her getting ready to go out with him and I felt my blood boiling to a fever pitch. But I could not go to her, not yet she must not see me until the right moment.
She was undressing and I felt my body stirring with the lust of a mortal man as she pulled her gown up revealing one of her shapely legs to the area just before her knee. I gulped feeling tightness in my slacks as she innocently tossed her golden hair in the most sensual way. She lifted her dress a little more, showing now the perfect slope of side to stomach and I winced needing to turn away but being powerless in my maleness to do so. The sight of her like that made my mind race with images that a beautiful virgin should never see.
I began to feel my mouth growing dry and then wet with salivation as she stood in her corset and chemise, a garment so white it was nearly see-through. It traveled up to her legs and guided my eyes straight to the center between her legs. I could see the tightness there of her virginal center, and I found myself suddenly able to see clearly that sweet, tender treasure so forbidden to me, the golden curls there no doubt tangled within one another. I could feel myself growing hot under the collar and a wet spot growing in the crotch of my pants.
She removed her corset and ran her hands under her breast in the most damnably innocent provocative way. It was obviously to loosen them from the tightness of the undergarment. A gesture meant to be purely sexless and more comforting to her but to a man like me it was enough to be driven mad. It was a well-known fact that girls her age experimented with their bodies, feeling themselves to see what their bodies liked. I was no stranger to it either, in fact this same action and watching the ballet rats dress was what got me through those tormenting pubescent years.
I did not see anything wrong with it at the time; it was well known that many of the women were already supplementing their incomes. I had never used them myself mainly because I am not one to go up and proposition a woman who had slept with more than one of the stagehands who were rumored to be riddled with diseases of every kind some of them deadly. There was no harm or shame at looking at women who had no respect for themselves anyway and as for pleasuring myself with the sin of self-pollution? Well, I am going to hell anyway so what did it matter.
But these girls were not Christine and I felt filthy as I saw her standing there completely naked before me as a rosy blush stole over her .What she did next was my undoing, in that innocent way she reached down and touched her crotch and moaned softly. That was it; pictures flooded my mind in torrential downpours Images of her beneath me, naked and writhing beneath me, her naked succulent breasts in my mouth as I nursed her passion. I felt my manhood growing stiff and reached down gripping myself, closing my eyes as my body enjoyed the show.
I hated myself for it, knew that I should burn in hell but what man be he hideous or handsome can resist the urge to watch a woman like her change. Besides this was the closest to actual sex with her. At least that's what I thought at the time, this was how I justified nights of watching her change and that was how I justified it to myself night after night. I watched her as she selected a white gown that showed how well-endowed she was in the chest.
Its white sparkles glistened in the intimate candlelight, looking like stars in a winter sky and accenting the beauty of her blue eyes. I had to stop her from going to the boy, if he saw her in that, he would fall in love for sure and then all would be lost. So I did, I did the only thing I could do, I quelled my lustful thoughts and blew out the candles with a switch I had installed behind the frame. An ingenious little device disguised as one of the tiles of the wall, one push and boom total darkness.
"Christine…" I said making my voice as stern as I could.
She froze and looked around the room, her forget-me-not eyes widened and she turned to the direction of my voice. I knew she was more startled than frightened as I had been in the habit of not sleeping and in a rather out of the ordinary mood. She sighed and looked down at the ground preparing for a scolding no doubt but I did not really know what to say. I had prepared to give her the lecture of a lifetime but when the moment came I did not know what to say. My heart was pounding in my chest as I tried to shake the hurt from me to no avail.
"Maestro…" she said in an apologetic voice, "I have to skip our lesson tonight."
That cut me deeply, the fact that my Christine would wish to spend time with that boy than her angel. After everything I had given her one look from a handsome wealthy man and she had already forgotten her promise to me. I felt myself choking on tears that clogged my throat almost to the point of making speech impossible. She was continuing to dress and I knew that if I was ever to even have a chance to win her love I had to show myself to her right now. So I steadied my breathing, swallowed my pain and spoke, this time copying the boy's arrogance and failing miserably. I loved her too much to be arrogant with her.
"Indeed," I said, "I am here to give you a congratulatory gift."
This perked her interest as I knew it would but she gave me a modest, "You did not have to."
I laughed, "oh but my child you must be rewarded for your efforts, I am here to become your gentleman friend."
She froze her eyes widening, "oh?" she said, "how do you plan to do that…"
"Look at your own face in the mirror I am here." He said.
She turned and I swooped down, shrouded in mist to my knees I knew she was in shock. It had worked, she had fallen in to my trap easily and with my hand reached out for hers I knew I had won. I felt that she took my hand and knew she was going nowhere with that fop tonight. I lead her down to the lake where she began falling asleep on my lap from the stress and the excitement of it all. But she woke when I lead her there to my glowing world of seduction and music. I lifted her to her feet not knowing what to say when the words came out before I could stop them.
"Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation
Darkness wakes and stirs imagination
Silently the senses abandon their defenses
Helpless to resist the notes I write
For I compose the music of the night
Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor
Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender
Hearing is believing
Music is deceiving
Hard as lightning, soft as candle light
Dare you trust the music of the night..
Close your eyes for your eyes will only tell the truth
and the truth isn't what you want to see…"
She made no move to join me in song not that I had expected her to, instead I lead her to the curtain and she touched my face. I do not know what happened next but I was holding her with her back pressed to my chest and my hands were on her in the most intimate way that I had been allowed with an unpaid for beauty. I ran my hands up and down her side, smiling as she closed her no-doubt tired eyes and leaned on me for support. I laughed gently, my voice always knocked her right out. But I was not ready to let her fall asleep on me yet and continued the song.
"In the dark it is easy to pretend...
That the truth is what it ought to be...
Softly, deftly, music shall caress you
Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you
Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind
In this darkness which you know you cannot fight
The darkness of the music of the night
Close your eyes start a journey through a strange, new world
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before
Close your eyes and let music set you free
Only then can you belong to me…"
She was already mine, I could feel it deep in my heart and I knew even if she left me no other man would satisfy her with his touch the way I was right at this moment. Call me arrogant but there was something about the way she was leaning against me and swooning that told me that I had at least one thing the young man could not. The ability to awaken the woman within this beautiful child, I took her hand in mine and began the final verse, blowing hot air on her neck as I raised her hand to the unmasked side of my cheek.
"Floating, falling, sweet intoxication
Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation
Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in
To the power of the music that I write
The power of the music of the night
You alone can make my song take flight
Help me make the music of the night…"
I showed her just what I was feeling; the love the lust, my body was raging for her as I told her everything as I pulled her to a curtain where behind stood a figure of her. In the first wedding gown I had ever made for her and that was simply too much. Christine fainted heavily on me and I swiftly caught her as I noticed that my voice had lulled her to a heavy sleep and I laid her down in my mother's bed where she would be warm and safe. Her snoring filled my chamber and I left her alone going to my organ, hoping to mollify my raging body in the process of composing.
She woke the next morning and things came crashing down in the worse way I could have imagined. Christine came to me as I snored loudly on my piano bench, having pleasant dreams for once with her close by. She reached down in what I thought was a gentle caress but then felt a blast of cold air hit my face. I knew what she had done and I froze, I turned to her my eyes flaming but when it came down to it I couldn't shout at her, I was too crushed that she had betrayed me like this. I looked at her for a moment my rage coming out in a loud scream; I did not know what I was doing. I was seeing red and shot to my feet.
I pulled her to me and forced me took look at me 'Look at me! Look at who I am, at what I am! Now you see me, yes, now you see your angel!"
I tossed Christine backwards and she screamed crawling away from me in fear but any remorse I had was gone. I wanted her to fear me in that moment, wanted her to see just what her normal people had done to me over the years. I got down in front of her eyes blazing and yanked her to me by her pretty hair. I saw her tears but I could not help it, I laughed at her pain until she was clamping her hands over her ears to block out that horrible sound.
This angered me even more and I cruelly pulled her closer still as I continued to rave, "Tear it off, my love!Come now 'tis not that difficult just like the other. With your prying hands you should have no trouble!"
She was begging me to stop with her eyes as she frantically shook her head and that made me snap. I released her head and it fell heavily causing her to groan, she tried to crawl away but I grabbed her hands harshly. Christine sobbed as I dragged her to her knees and made her tear at my flesh and it tore so easily that blood dripped form the slightest gouge... I gave a mirthless laugh as I then noticed her crying softly as she stared at the dark-red blood on her fingers and bits of skin snagged in her nails.
"It's not coming off is it Christine? No, indeed the mask is still in place... "I gave another twisted laugh and dropped to my knees and crawled away.
I cried for several moments until I heard her voice, "Forgive me, I did this to you."
Her request stunned me to the point of bitter laughter, I had just beaten her and terrified her and she was blaming herself. Not only was she blaming herself, but she was asking my forgiveness, this was positively hilarious. My laughter came and was silenced by the feel of her arms wrapping around my waist as she cried into my shirt. I could barely hear her saying, I am sorry again and then I couldn't help it. I cried too, I hugged her back and I cried into her hair seeing a purple spot on her cheek where I had knocked her backwards.
"No," I said, "I'm sorry…I hurt you."
She shook her head and framed my face, kissing the bleeding spots, and then whispered, "Your price was this…"
I blinked and then remembered that my young pupil still believed that I was an angel come down to be her mortal gentleman friend. I nodded and looked sad, my eyes cast down as I got up, wishing that I had told her the truth to begin with. Still I took my mask up and placed it back on my face suddenly feeling exhausted. I must have looked entirely pathetic because Christine went to me and wrapped her arms around me in an innocent hug meant to comfort me, and I continued the lie without thinking.
You asked me for a gift from heaven, but as Ionce told you– for a gift from heaven there can be hell to pay."
I pulled away and went to the lake, wetting my handkerchief and washing my face and then went to my room without a word. I did not want her to see me weep, I already felt like less than a man and the last thing he needed was her to think any less of me. But when I thought she was out of earshot I cried, and she came in as silent as the grave. Christine removed my hands from my face and hugged me around my torso.
I hugged her back and cried for a long time, "You promised you'd love me…" I sobbed.
"I promise to love you in some way forever…" she responded and kissed me on the forehead.
End flashback
I kissed her head, the memory choking me in a way I had not been in the time she had been with me. Christine sighed gently although she said nothing as she held me for a long time, and let me finish crying till I lay down on the floor, her body heat keeping me warm. Just like she was now, sleeping beside me as my wife, She had promised she would love me and that was a promise she had always kept.