Again, I am so sorry for the delay. But I cannot thank you all enough for your reviews. They are so insightful, and it's very fun to see you trying to figure it all out!

A couple reviewers asked about my inspiration for Sky, and if I had an actor in mind for him, and the answer is yes, actually. Sky's appearance and sort of gentle/strange nature mostly comes from Christian Camargo's character on the tv series Dexter (he plays the Ice Truck Killer. If you have not watched Dexter I highly recommend watching season one, at least). I think he is a pretty accurate fit; very calm most of the time, not too handsome but not ugly, dark hair. Sky's eyes are dark brown, though, and Camargo's are actually a really pretty hazel. Anyway, I hope that helps picture him if you are familiar.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Thank you so much for reading, and please review.

Nothing But A Lie

Chapter 8

Release. Bliss. Happiness.

He could barely remember the last time he had felt so satisfied. It had been so long since he was in love with someone other than Christine, even longer since he had been intimate with them. It was never the same when he pleasured himself, or even when he had one night stands with strangers. They only left him feeling…incomplete. Not fully satisfied. But there was really nothing like having someone he loved touch him, stroke him, bring him to the very brink of ecstasy. Someone more special, more beautiful than anyone else…

Someone who was currently puking her guts out because of him.

Sky couldn't help but be a little annoyed when all of the serene thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of Christine getting sick in the bathroom next door. He groaned quietly, cleaned himself up, and adjusted his pants, trying very hard to ignore the sounds coming from the bathroom.

In the very back of his mind, he knew there was the tiniest hint of another feeling too, along with all the others: guilt. He tried to ignore it as he went into the kitchen and started making dinner, but it kept resurfacing when he thought of how tears had run down her face the entire time. How she couldn't even look at him, at what she was doing.

But then, the much louder voice in his head justified it. She'll get used to it. She'll have to stop being a baby about everything at some point.

God, he sure hoped so. Now that he had gotten a taste of her perfection, been touched by her perfect little hands, it only made him want her more. Crave her. She was like an addiction, a drug, always calling to him, screaming to him. But his satisfaction would always be short lived if she just…freaked out every time. She had to get used to it at some point…right?

Of course she did. She was his. He shook the doubts aside, focusing on cooking a nice, healthy dinner for himself and his girlfriend.

There wasn't very much for Christine to throw up, having only eaten crackers all day. When those were out, she experienced horrible dry heaves, hot tears blinding her and the disgusting stickiness on her hand making her feel even sicker whenever she remembered it. When she eventually gave up and lifted her messy, tear-streaked face from the toilet, she stumbled up and viciously washed her hands and cleaned her mouth, gagging all the while. She could feel the panic rising, couldn't control the rush of tears streaming down her face, her sobs coming harder and louder.

Shaking, she shut off the sink and dried her hands and face with a hand towel, accidentally glimpsing at her face in the mirror when she was through. She looked insane. Unrecognizable. She didn't know who the girl looking back at her even was, and it was so terrifying that she began gasping for air, choking for it. Her muscles were tensing, her heart pounding so hard she could feel every beat in her head, shrill screams echoing through her mind.

Only when her throat burned did she realize the screams were hers.

She'd only had one other panic attack before in her life. It was a week after her parent's funeral, and she had finally settled into her new home: a small guest bedroom in the Valerius's house. They were an elderly couple that went to her church and were close family friends, and the only ones who offered to let her stay with them. Of course, she had been thankful; anyone who would be willing to take in a damaged, thirteen year old girl under their guidance had to be saints. But it had finally begun to hit Christine that her parents were really gone, that she was the last living Daae, spiraling her into a frightening rush of sobs and screams.

Luckily, Mr. Valerius had been home when it happened, and being a retired EMT, he knew exactly how to talk her through the attack. Christine tried to remember some of what he had said as she sunk to the floor, uncontrollable shrieks bursting from her lips. Something about breathing? Counting through breaths?

It was too intense, almost seizure like, Christine unable to concentrate or think clearly through the writhing, screaming, crying. She couldn't breathe, didn't know how. Was this what dying felt like? She was sure it was, and that only served to increase her panicked state. The bathroom floor was cold underneath her, and yet she felt a thin sheen of sweat cover her entire body.

When Sky burst through the door, she tried to cower away from him, but her muscles didn't work. She could only squirm in agony, and shriek, "Get away from me! Let me die!" The words were incoherent between her breathless sobs, but she hoped he got the message anyway.

If he had, he did not listen.

He said nothing. His face betrayed nothing. Sky kneeled and effortlessly pulled her up into a sitting position, turned her around until her back was to him. One strong yet gentle arm held her entire torso and both arms down, and one large hand clamped over her nose and mouth, cutting off all air and sound from her. The lack of oxygen only heightened her panic, and she fought and struggled and kicked…and it was not even close to enough. He was so much stronger than her.

Black spots impaired her vision; a ringing deafening her ears to her useless, covered cries.

Still, she heard him. "Go to sleep, baby," he said softly into her ear.

She hated that she had to obey. Soon, her body went limp, and everything went black.

As soon as her body relaxed in his arms, Sky released his hold on her mouth, allowing her to breathe once more. He checked her pulse, felt it pound fast against his fingers, and waited until it slowed to a normal level again.

He was surprisingly calm, though the second he had heard her screaming, he feared that someone would hear. Had she hurt herself? He'd raced to the bathroom, but when he found her, he saw no evidence of self-harm, and figured the only logical explanation was that she was having some sort of anxiety episode.

Sky would have tried to get her to calm down, but she had shrieked some unintelligible words at him as she flinched away, only showing him that she would not cooperate even if he tried to make her. And so he did the only thing he could think of, and held her airways tight until she passed out. He needed to get her quiet, fast. Someone might hear and come nosing around.

Now, as he held her, cradled the sleeping girl against his chest, he wasn't angry. Well, not at her, at least. He wasn't annoyed.

He felt awful.

Once again, he had asked for too much, too soon, and it proved to be too taxing for her. Would he ever get this right? "I'm sorry," he breathed, stroking her perfect, golden hair, brushing his lips to her sweaty forehead. "I'm so sorry. I love you." He knew that when she woke, he would do anything he could to see her smile again. Sighing heavily, he also decided that he would not touch her again, or make her touch him, for at least a little while. She needed some time to heal from this.

Sky wet a washcloth with cool water with one arm, keeping the other securely around her and pressed to him. He held her like that, on the bathroom floor, pressing the cloth to her face and neck softly for a while. Eventually, she began to rouse into consciousness.

She felt so weak, so tired, she could barely even make her fingers twitch. Christine could tell that Sky was holding her, pressing something cool and damp to her skin, but she couldn't find the strength to flinch away, remove herself from his gentle embrace. The most she could do was slowly crack open her eyes, stare at him blearily, cautiously.

"Hey," he murmured, his lips turned up in an apologetic smile, dark eyes holding a glint of regret. "Are you okay?"

How badly she wanted to laugh in his face. Of course, she could barely even gather the energy to speak. "No," she could only whisper, staring up at him.

"You will be," he said, though he wouldn't meet her stare for a moment, as if he were talking to himself. Assuring himself.

"No, Sky," she said miserably, voice scratchy and hoarse. "No. I really don't think that's true."

He wouldn't let her make him feel bad. "I'm allowing you to go to school tomorrow," Sky reminded her patiently. "If anything, you really should be thanking me."

She pressed her lips together, not saying a word, her tired, hate filled eyes staring up into his, making it clear that she would do no such thing. She felt his nails begin to dig into her skin.

Christine's defiance, once again, both aroused and angered him. She had the nerve to defy him now? After she had just thrown a tantrum he'd never thought a grown adult could even be capable of? God…she was infuriating. And so damn hot. How badly he wished he could fuck her.

But he had to remember that she was fragile right now. He couldn't make her do anything else for him tonight, not unless he wanted her to hate him forever, and maybe lose her mind. Sky took a breath, relaxing his grip on her.

"Are you hungry?" he changed the subject, startling her. She was sure he would threaten her for denying his request…or worse. Slowly, she shook her head. "Oh, come on," he said. "If you could have anything right now, what would it be?"

To be free, she thought, but knew he meant food wise. She didn't really want to eat anything with her throat burning the way it was, except…

"Ice cream," she rasped.

He blinked, and then laughed. "You got it, sweetheart."

The following day, Sky stood leaning against his car as he watched Christine walk toward the school building, her flowery sundress swaying with each eager step she took. Yes, so eager to be out of his eye, was she? What she didn't know was that she never would be…

"Long blonde hair, pink dress," Sky murmured to the man who'd walked up to him shortly after Christine walked away. The man nodded, looking in the direction she had gone. Handing him a wad of cash, Sky studied his casual attire; cargo shorts, t-shirt, ball cap, and the backpack he wore to blend in. He'd do. "Try not to let her out of your sight. If she tries to slide anyone a note I want you to intercept it and bring it to me no matter what it takes. And if she tries to go to the campus police building, stop her. Got it?"

The man nodded, confident, and strode quickly ahead to catch up with Christine. Sky smiled to himself with ease, and turned on his earpiece.

It wasn't near as difficult as she thought it would be to act like everything was normal, Christine found. It was obvious that she wasn't a great actress, but as she greeted and conversed with old friends and classmates that she ran into on the way to class, all she could do was smile and feel relieved to talk to someone other than Sky. What else could she do? Although, it was frustrating to know that he was listening to every word she said.

Her first class flew by, and she was eager to make her way to the library to check her student email for any announcements she might have missed. She'd always been a proactive student, and she wasn't going to let her awful situation deter that. As she walked across campus, she warily looked around and behind her, having the strangest sense that she was being watched or followed. Finding nothing but students and professors brusquely walking and no sign of Sky, she tried to brush off the anxiety and relax.

Like that was possible.

The morning sun beat down from the cloudless sky, and Christine wiped a hand across her dewy forehead. She breathed a contented sigh when entering the cool, air-conditioned library, and quickly made her way to an open computer station. She logged in to her student account and pulled up her email, scanning through each unread message.

When she read the news of her voice teacher, her face paled, and she had to bring a shaky hand to her gaping mouth. Tears pooled in her eyes, deeply saddened by the woman's passing. Christine had been looking forward to working with her again, and she could barely wrap her head around the fact that she was just…gone.

Wiping her tears, she checked the newer messages in hopes for information on the woman's replacement, and found that someone new had been hired into the music department. She was surprised by the lack of information on him. All she could find was: Dr. Erik Gabriel, first year professor, and a list of office hours. First year? Was he young? Christine copied down his listed office hours on a notecard, knowing it would be polite to go introduce herself to him before their lessons would begin the following day.

Seeing the time in the bottom corner of the monitor, she gasped and stuck the card into the side pocket of her backpack, logging out of the computer before getting up to rush to her next class. In her haste, she accidentally collided with an older student in a ball-cap on her way out of the library. She profusely apologized to the stranger before continuing on her way.

Christine found it harder to focus in her next class with her newfound grief for her voice teacher. Professor Chan had been the only teacher she was semi-close to, the only one she knew she could trust, and most importantly the only person she spent time with behind closed doors. Now who could she possibly tell about what was going on? She prayed the new guy would be nice…

Yesterday had been a nightmare, and she didn't know how much longer she could stand being with Sky. She missed her old life of solitude and purity and contentment. Now all she did was fear. Fear Sky; fear for her life, for her sanity, and most importantly her virtue, though it had already been half stolen. It was only a matter of time before he took her body as he pleased with no apology. She had no idea what she would do when he did. Would she be able to go on?

The class was released early as most classes usually were on the first day of class, and she reached into her side pocket for the office hours she'd written down. Maybe she had time to catch the new guy before they were over. Her fingers touched no paper, and she searched through her whole backpack before deciding it must have blown away outside or something. Chewing on her lip, she decided to go to his office anyway, knowing it was the same as her old voice teacher's, and figuring she might as well check before lunch and hope he would be there.

The main thing he had worried about prior to coming today was being harassed about his mask. He had little patience when it came to nosiness, and of course he had expected prying students to badger him about it on his first day. Either college students were much too focused on themselves to even notice the edges of his flesh-toned cover, or they were too worried about their grades to pry. Well, he would not complain. He was all too keen to embrace the privacy.

Khan had annoyingly insisted to meet for lunch and discuss more about the job, and he reluctantly made to leave the solitude of his office, striding from the room and locking the door behind him. When he turned, there was a girl approaching him. A rather small one. And rather nervous looking, with eyes the color of violets and hair so fair it nearly blended in with her pale skin. He tried not to stare and failed. She was…rather pretty.

Christine knew the man in front of her had to be the replacement, as she had seen him leaving the office and locking the door. She had not expected someone so tall, nor someone so intimidating. He was easily a foot taller than her, maybe more, with long, skinny limbs covered by the fashionable black suit he wore. All black in this weather? His hair was gelled back and dark as his clothes, his eyes the strangest color, like two flames in a startling shade of amber. She quietly cleared her throat, her polite smile wavering slightly.

"Hi, are y-you Dr. Gabriel?" she asked, and his head jerked down once in a quick nod that was disconcerting. There was something off about his face, staring at her with unfriendliness, but she couldn't tell what it was… "Um, hi, I'm Christine Daae. I think you're my new voice teacher…?"

The girl held out a tiny hand, as if waiting for him to shake it. Touch her? No, he could not. He merely stared, watching her eyes grow afraid as she met his unsettling yellow ones. Say something, imbecile.

"Yes, Miss Daae. I believe we do not meet until tomorrow."

Her lips parted, drawing in a breath at the sound of his voice. Though he looked on her with narrowed eyes that blazed and a sort of annoyed set to his thin mouth, his voice was…overwhelmingly pleasant. Like none she had ever heard.

"Oh," she stammered. "I know, I just…I wanted to meet you. See who was going to, um, be teaching me now that…Professor Chan is…"

The girl, Christine, swallowed hard, and Erik merely watched. A normal person would offer remorse, he thought snappily to himself. He cleared his throat. "I am sorry for your loss." There. That would do the trick. She smiled sadly.

"Thank you," she said shakily. "I just found out this morning. It was…unexpected."

"Yes, I am sure it was. Now if you will excuse me, Miss Daae, office hours have passed and I have somewhere to be."

She had to refrain from gaping up at him. He was…abrupt. "Oh, I…I understand, Dr. Gabriel. I'm…sorry."

The girl looked hurt by his frankness, and he softened his voice in a way he knew affected people…positively. "It is no worry. I will see you tomorrow, yes? We may talk then."

God, that voice… Christine could feel her cheeks turn pink, though she didn't know why, and all she could do was nod up at him and watch as he carefully maneuvered past her and walked down the hall. Within seconds, he turned a corner and disappeared from her sight, leaving her with a twisted feeling in her gut.

Dr. Gabriel obviously didn't seem like the caring, helpful type. She wouldn't be able to go to him with her situation. That was for sure. Christine released a shaky breath, fighting back tears, and prayed for some other solution to make itself known.