Starlight's Embrace

Chapter one

Window Seats

Erik smiled grimly as he watched Christine look into the mirror sleepily and try not to close her eyes. She clearly needed to fall asleep and this idiotic boy was keeping her awake with his stupidity and nostalgia. She looked so sleepy; like she would be soon fainting on her backside. He imagined that a moment, her falling backwards in a faint and this boy not even noticing. Continuing to prattle on and on about some stupid memory he had made up (there was no way he remembered all of this from a decade ago, seriously) and just ignoring her. He seemed like the type that would do that sort of thing. Prattle on and on and on while his audience was bored to sleep. The idea made Erik chuckle a bit as he pictured the sleepy girl calling out to her angel as she did every night. He did not watch her in bed at night but he did stay close by as his Christine suffered from terrible nightmares and sometimes would wake with a scream in the far-reaches of the night.

His nocturnal nature beneficial to him in this aspect; as he could play her guardian angel and keep watch of her for nightmares while he was awake. Some sick part of Erik longed to see her sleep, watch her eyes close and just gaze on the statuesque beauty of an angel bound to earth. Christine wanted to, the poor girl! He could see how heavy her eyes were, the ringlets under them making them look like a cat or a racoon or something. They kept slipping downward till she yanked them back open in an action which looked to be rather difficult. Something about this made Erik very angry indeed, and he wanted to leap out of mirror and choke the young man for bothering her when she was so clearly in need of sleep.

But just as he suspected this boy was well frankly the definition of the thing that wouldn't shut up. He just went on and on, with that same dopey handsome grin on his face while she blinked in and out of consciousness. Hardly able to focus her eyes Prattling on about goblins, dolls and chocolate, which admittedly made Christine offer him a smile. Erik's heart stopped at the handsome man beguiling his pupil. He had thought he Erik ground his teeth at the sight of him. Something about this young man was really pissing him off, making his blood boil and it was only made worse when he heard her join him in reminiscing.

"Lotte was a good girl," she began dreamily, her eyes sliding shut even as she sat down in her gilded chair and tried not to let her eyes close all the way a futile effort even as she spoke. "She loved her mother, she loved her father but she could not dance, so papa told her one fine day she'd sing for all of France. "

Erik rolled his eyes, "Insipid trash." He said louder than he'd meant to.

"Did you hear something?" he said again. "I could have sworn I just heard a man insulting me."

Erik couldn't help it he laughed and he laughed hard. The sound echoing from behind the mirror as the imbecile actually began to look in her closet of all places and ruffle her dresses around. It was an indecent move if there ever was one and the Phantom was sure he had dulled his own teeth by now, nearly ground them to dust. Christine was doing that thing that people who are going to sleep but are in denial often do. Mumbling about resting her eyes and then allowing them to slip downward a few seconds longer each time while the boy, who simply could not take a hint, continued stomping about the room and waving his sword like an orchestral conductor. Erik hoped he would fall on it face-first and die; he had really had enough of this.

"I told you Raoul, the angel of music is here..." said a very drowsy Christine.

The young man laughed, "You cannot be serious!" He said and then drew his fencing sword, "where is he?"

"He?" Christine echoed hardly awake, "Raoul the angel of music is in heaven of course."

"I know very well where it is that Angel's reside, my question is where the devil is the gentleman hiding in your room." he snapped slightly annoyed at her apparent stupidity.

Erik gnashed his teeth together. Hating this boy more and more as he spoke to his Christine that way. The implication that she, a girl with such ladylike manners that she asked a gentleman to turn away while she buckled her shoe; would have some unnamed gentleman prowling about. It was as if, as if she were some common whore! He very nearly burst through the mirror and knocked the boy'd lights right out of his stupid face. Oh how he wanted to! But he could not risk being seen because if he did, the boy would surely run to the management and then it would all be over. He would be carried off by law enforcement away from the opera and her.

Which was not only unacceptable it was simply intolerable. So all he could do was wait and watch as the idiot actually traipsed about the room like some sort of twit and watched him feel her pillows and such, Christine completely forgotten. Just as well as she had finally given up on keeping her eyes open and let those golden dust lashes fluttering against her rouge covered cheeks and Erik smiled. Realizing she had actually fallen asleep although not very deeply because his little songbird, well she tended to snore louder than a train. It may had been creepy but Erik often listened, to her to make sure that he was in fact near her because being away from his angel was one of the worst times in his life and the deeper she slept the more likely she was to dream of him.

Erik decided in that moment that this boy was nothing but a meaningless irritant and an oblivious one at that! Could he not see she was in no mood for his nostalgia and his romances! He wanted so badly to scream at him that she was sleeping and that he ought to pick up his stupid feather top hat and be gone but he could only watch her, marveling at her beauty and terrified to shatter her calm. It would not do for the angel of music to be yelling at her suitor. Hell, Erik was pretty sure celestial beings were not supposed to even care that she had a suitor to begin with. But the sight of her like this and the knowledge it was all his fault made Erik cringe, her triumph tainted by the overpowering feelings of exhaustion.

The euphoria of the night had worn off leaving nothing now but the actor's fatigue; well that and his endless hammering on her to get her ready. He winced as he thought of that, that he had driven her to such an exhausted state. He remembered the marathon training sessions he had been forcing on her these past months. Sometimes for days at a time with no rest till her voice had been reduced to little more than a rattle in her throat with tears and painful pleas to rest. It had been worth it. Her performance had been sublime, ethereal even and he had been in ecstasy as he watched her reach the voices of the lord himself and put his angels to shame. Still, to see her this tired, this sleep-deprived did something horrible to his insides.

Erik felt so guilty, that it twisted him from inside out. It stabbed at his heart the way the thorns of a rose pricked a finger; although this time there was no blood. He had driven her hard these past ninety days, long hours of lessons with very little rest if any at the soil to reproduce the rose. But he could not help himself! Her music was the most beautiful rose in the bleak world which was his garden. And what a bloom she had sprouted this night. He eyed the rose in his hand, almost tossing it over his shoulder in disgust. It was a pathetic comparison to her beauty, but he supposed that his angel would like it and held onto it. Narrowing his gaze in aggravation as he watched the young man remove his coat and turn out his pockets as if the source of the mysterious voice was somehow small enough to fit into the inside of his greatcoat.

What an idiot! His hand clenched around the stem of the rose and he stifled a curse behind his hand as the thorns sliced his fingertips. He hated thorns on roses; they reminded him of his own face. The mangled weapons which marred the beauty of nature's most beloved flower. Something always marred the pretty things of the world, minus Christine of course. Nothing could ever subtract from her beauty, and he really, really wanted this young handsome fop to go away and stop making her blush like that. He was a right dandi in his blue velvet with the golden buttons and suede pants. Everything from his clothing to his attitude, even his damned posture suggested he was pampered and spoiled beyond the realm of logical sense.

He knelt beside her and brought her hand to the tip of his lips, removing his white, pristine gloves to reveal the most baby-soft hands the Phantom had ever seen in his life. Erik wondered if this boy had ever done a hard day's work in his life. The definition of a society babe who had not yet left the ties of his mother's apron strings and most likely never would. He did not appreciate the music, Erik had seen his type before. The opera house was crawling with them. Handsome young men with too much time and too much money than was good for them, flirting with the pretty young chorus girls who they had no intention of marrying. He was young enough to be naive and had a romantic gleam in his eyes which her tutor detested.

Her eyes slid shut again and this time it took her a full minute to remember to open them back up. The boy -Christ what an imbecile- was now searching the room for signs of an intruder and of course not finding one because why the hell would he? Erik laughed, aloud unable to help himself, as the idiot began checking under the sofa for signs of life as if anyone other than a mouse could possibly fit there. He frowned, realizing the young man was not as stupid as he first thought. Raoul was not looking for anyone, no, he was playing some sort of childish game with Christine which she seemed to be very much the most animated, ridiculous expressions as he shrugged with his hands in the air palms up. His brow furrowing in utter exaggeration as he went on through the room, sneaking whiffs of the young girl's perfume and even sneaking one of her ribbons into his coat.

This made Erik knash his teeth together it was just like he suspected; the blasted boy was after Christine. His Christine. The nerve of him. He felt his hands flexing and unflexing; and growing tighter and tighter as his butterscotch eyes seemed to shine in his haven of dark. There were few times, very few though they were when he regretted the two way mirror he had installed in the room. And he was finding this to be one of those times. These childlike antics not only bored the Opera Ghost but they were making him have one hell of a headache. So bad in fact that he had to fight back the urge to groan like the undead and give away his hiding spot entirely. Not that he was particularly worried about it; the boy was a simpleton with a gentleman's bookish education. There was no way he was going to discover Erik behind the mirror, if he kept quiet at least.

But this boy was just so very irritating and this little game of, 'find the whatsit' had to be the single stupidest thing Erik had ever seen in his entire life; and that was saying something. He really did not understand why it was that Christine was so charmed by such a display of childish tomfoolery when all he wanted to do was tear the little hair he had clean off his head. It seemed however, that his girl, good as she was, is very easily amused and was smiling at him as she watched him out of the corner of her half-lidded eyes. Directing him to go this way and that way and everywhere in between, Stopping only to smother the fit of uncontrollable laughter as she told him to search a particularly unordinary spot. Such a key or knot hole of some kind. Their insipid game seeming to take hours and hours and more importantly, boring their spectator nearly to sleep.

He looked at his pocket watch and began twirling it around his left index finger till it was fast enough to blur and then stopped it repeating this three or four times before checking the time. It was nearly seven p.m. and Erik wondered how much more of this he could take when the twit literally did the oldest parlor trick in the book. Reaching up his sleeves he pulled out a long stand of multicolored handkerchiefs causing her to clap and giggle like a child. Sighing, he rubbed at the skin underneath his mask, wincing as he felt just how itchy it was beneath the porcelain mask. He winced when he touched a sore spot or rather hole in his skin. His fingers coming away with some yellow ooze, and cursing as he realized that he had contracted another infection, which he would soon have to go home and cleanse, he groaned. Finally, he turned his attention back to like she was going to fall asleep, like she was tuning him out and she gave that same dreamy smile to the boy that she had when Erik had spoken out the first time.

She looked adorable all drowsy and comfortable on her bed like that. Raoul on the other hand looked perplexed, confused even that when he looked around there seemed in fact to be no one there. Finally the blasted dolt turned over his top hat and searched for Erik inside the bowl of it and found-big surprise- nothing whatsoever before coming to kneel by the nodding girl who was now reclining on her sofa. Eyes no longer open and her lips parted as a soft breath of air escaped her lips. Erik felt something strange happening to the inside of him at the sight of her, jostling herself back to life; like this sudden urge to weep in frustration because she was so tired and this boy was hurting her. He was hurting Erik's angel and he was too stupid to realize it!

At last the boy turned to her with a smile saying, "I have made dinner reservations Christine at the Scarlette Rouge." he puffed out his chest like a bloody rooster, "Very exclusive, very expensive."

If the Phantom had any eyebrows to speak of he would have raised them before rolling his eyes. Damn that boy loved to flex his wallet around didn't he? Typical Changy behavior, all flash and no sense. Christine could not possibly go for such a disgusting simpering idiot as the never-will-be heir as soon as the comte graced the world with a child. Surely she had more sense than that. But then again he would not have been all that surprised were she in fact charmed by the lad as it seemed even the severe and hard-headed madame Giry tittered at him like some lovestruck idiot when the handsome young fop appeared in her line of sight.

Erik laughed a little bit as he realized that Christine was not listening to him and he had no idea. She was snoring, it was soft and ladylike certainly but it was audible enough if he bothered to listen. Good girl, Erik thought, she would be going nowhere tonight; just getting her rest like she should be. Erik felt himself smiling beneath his mask at the sight of her looking so very human. Mouth opened and drooling all down the front of herself as she turned her O-shaped mouth into the wing of the velvet sofa. He was still yammering on about things the two of them had done as children but she interrupted him with a very unladylike noise and another snore. Erik had to smother his laughter behind his hand as it finally donned on the young lad that his lady friend was no longer awake and was not listening.

"I say, Christine? Christine?!"

"Mph? Not now Mr. Rabbit." she mumbled, shrugging him off as he touched her shoulder.

"Rabbit?" asked the boy perplexed raising one goldenrod eyebrow, "Christine wake up or we shall miss our carriage." he ordered shaking her.

Erik growled and fingered the lasso in his cloak, wondering if she would sleep through the boy being strangled. Who even was this guy? Erik had thought the aristocracy to be a boring stuffy lot. The sort of folk who wore pinstripes and had long curly white mustaches. This man however, was gorgeous and had the body of a young buck. Now Erik was not a man who had any inclination to be sexually involved with someone of the same gender. In fact the very idea repulsed him. But he was if anything an artist and could appreciate a thing of beauty. And the boy was certainly very handsome indeed but no matter how handsome he was Erik knew that his girl did not want to go. She needed to rest, needed well Erik wasn't exactly sure what she needed but it wasn't him that was for sure!

She struggled up on her elbows, and her eyes were still shut. "Raoul, I am tired, can we go some other night?"

He pouted like a child who had been denied the toy he wanted. "Please Christine it's been ten years, come with me tonight."

Christine nodded reluctantly, needing help getting to her feet as she rubbed her sleepy eyes and splashed water on her face to try and startle herself awake Struggling to find her way to the closet and put on a proper gown for a dinner party with an aristocrat. Raoul shook his head, his eyes sparkling as he inspected her figure with the boyish lustfulness that came along with his age. Erik's heart thudded angrily in his chest as he fought the urge to just crash his fist through the mirror in anger but he must be calm he must maintain his composure. It would not do for him do frighten his sleepy angel out of her dreams but he was finding it increasingly difficult to do when this man was looking at Christine like that.

"You have no need for changing you are lovely as you are, come now we shall be late." and he left.

Thank God! Erik sighed in relief as the boy finally quit the room and Christine -oh that poor, poor child-settled back down and closed her eyes again falling asleep almost instantly. Her chest rising and falling and rising again, as a loud nasally sound tore from her sinus and Erik laughed a little. Smothering it behind his hand, as she exhaled like an elephant and turned her head into the frame of the chair. No wonder the girls at the ballet dormitory often complained about the noise and she had been moved to her private room. This suited Erik well enough of course, easier to give her lessons and sing her lullabies without the buzzing ears of the corpse de ballet.

"Christine...Christine..." he sang softly, to get her attention.

"Angel," she muttered to the dark, "my throat hurts."

"Snoring does that little one." he said gently. "speaking of, please continue to do so my dear."

Christine blushed, "Most people find my snoring obnoxious and unladylike." she murmured sheepishly. "I'm sorry if it bothered you."

Erik laughed at her. His sweet girl was so innocent that she even felt the need to apologize for the way she fell asleep. His good honest girl! She always had to be a lady, even when she could not keep her eyes open. Erik knew that she was going to fall asleep on her feet and felt the need to stand behind her in case she fainted and hit her head. The last thing she needed was to give herself a concussion. But then, he was behind a mirror so he would be of little use to her. There was nothing for it. pushing the mirror aside and assuring the room to be in total darkness he slid the mirror back and stepped into the roses as silent as the grave.

"Although it may make your throat sore, it simply means you have fallen asleep. Which you should still be may I add, why not get some rest, return to your dreamland." he told her, smiling at how sleepy and grumpy she looked.

"I feel drained," she admitted, "As if I gave my soul tonight and I am dead."

"Ah my child your soul is too beautiful to give to anyone else but the heavens themselves!" Erik extolled a little more enthusiastically than he should have.

Christine laughed drowsily, "Ah me," she said, "I am so tired I am dreaming my angel of music has somehow come down from heaven and is in my dressing room!" and she let herself fall back onto the sofa adjacent to her chair. "Besides why would a celestial being care if I snore in the first place?" and she resumed falling back to sleep.

Erik should have left it there and gone home, but something inside him made him open his mouth and then, "Christine I am-"

But just then the door opened and the boy, slowly poked his golden head inside.