A Moment of Love
She'd grown distant in the past few weeks since his arrival. It irritated me beyond any words I might be able to use to describe. Once… Once she sang for me. For her Angel. But then, on that day especially, her eyes were distant and her mind unfocused. Well, unfocused on her lessons, that is.
Her daze was cut short when my fingers paused over the keys and I stared blankly at the organ. I felt her eyes turn to me. "Erik?"
"You seem distracted," I answered, voice taught with concealed emotions. "I think it best you either get your mind on what you are doing or take your leave."
She looked stricken by my words, staring at me for a moment. "Erik…"
"Will he come to take you to dinner tonight?" I demanded suddenly. "No performance tonight. No performance tomorrow… Will he come?"
"Who are you talking about?"
"You know damn well!" I roared, standing and sending the bench flying back from me.
She shrank away from me, eyes wide in terror. My temper was in full control of me now, not allowing any rational thoughts to come through. She stumbled away from me until she hit the wall, pressing against it. "Who, Erik?" she cried softly.
"Your Vicomte," I growled.
"Oh…" she said with a strained laugh. "You mean Raoul? Oh… I don't know, Erik. He comes sometimes. We're old friends. Erik, why are you angry? Please… There's nothing to be-"
"Nothing to be angry about?" I demanded, turning from her. "Go, Christine. Go to him for all I care!" My breath was catching in my throat now and my chest had begun to throb as it did when the attacks came on. Confound all those years of opium and morphine, and confound my constant use of the drug still...
I wanted her out. I wanted to protect and conserve what little dignity I might be able to from that night.
"I don't want to," she cried quietly. Tears were falling from her eyes, I knew, and she inched closer to me, reaching out to me. Oh how I wanted to touch her, but knew it was impossible. When I leaned one hand against the opposite wall from which she had fallen against, I heard her steps quicken. "Erik?"
"Leave," I gasped as the pain increased.
"Are you ill, Erik? Erik?"
I shook my head wildly, but even then she knew I was lying. How obvious it was when my knees buckled under me and I found a groan escaping my lips. Ayesha, who had been curled up on the couch, suddenly perked, eyeing Christine carefully.
Christine's hands touched my arm carefully, easing me down. I gasped and shuddered in pain, leaning back into the wall and closing my eyes. She was on her knees next to me when I reopened them. "Go back to him," I rasped angrily.
She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "How can I?"
"I don't… need… your pity," I managed between gasps.
"I know," she whispered. "Can you move? To the couch, I mean. The floor isn't the best place to rest…"
I tried to answer, but my voice would not obey my stern command and I resigned to shaking my head slowly. If I could not find the strength to speak, how would I ever find the strength to move?
She nodded her understanding and turned her back to the wall, sitting there with me. "Then I'll stay with you down here until you feel well enough to move." She was looking at me as she said it, her eyes intent on mine and then she leaned her head back and sighed.
"You don't have to," I whispered.
"But I want to," she answered just as softy.
It was some minutes later, when my breathing had become regular again, that I felt Christine shift next to me and her head fell to my shoulder in her sleep. I stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to wake up and scream in horror that she had been defiled by my touch, even unintentionally. No scream came. Only a content sigh and I slowly leaned my own head back against the wall and drifted to sleep.
A/N: Feed my review addiction, please! Unlike poor Erik's morphine addiction, this can only help me! Hehe…
TS