Life With The Phantom

Life With The Phantom

This story is based on the 2004 musical and is an Erik/Christine piece. Christine has just moved in with Erik, and she is about to discover what it's like to live with the phantom of the opera. It is rated M for sexual references, scenes, language & violence. Please R&R.

Christine brushed her brown curls out of her face as she rolled out a pizza base for her and Erik. He had never tried pizza before, and he was about to find out how delicious it was. She remembered the time when she had upended a whole jar of ragu sauce all over Raoul after he had asked her to leave the opera with him, and giggled as she poured some over the pizza. She then neatly placed slices of mozzarella over it and placed it in the oven to cook.

"Christine, do you want to go for a swim?" called Erik from the other room.

"Sure," she replied, running into the bedroom and changing into her bikini before making her way to the shore of the lake, where Erik was waiting for her.

"God those trunks looks so sexy," she gasped. "Where did you get them?"

"There's a shop called next just down the road from the opera house. They sell really nice swimwear," said Erik.

"Oh wow. I get my swimwear from the Speedo shop. Do you like it?" she asked, pirouetting so he could see every angle.

"To be honest, I think it looks a bit masculine," he said.

"Oh thank you very much Erik. You may as well stick a knife in my heart and twist it," she remarked angrily.

"Sorry, I was just telling you the truth," he said. But it was too late, and Christine furiously shoved Erik into the lake.

"Damn you!" he cried, clambering furiously out of the water. "You wet my new mask! I wasn't ready to get in yet." He pointed to where the paint had started to drip.

"Too bad. You should think about what you say before you speak," she said. Erik suddenly seized her and violently threw her into the lake. She screamed as the cold water hit her like a train.

"You bitch. You ruined my mask!"

"Erik! How dare you treat me like a rag doll!" shrieked Christine as she scrambled out of the water.

"You wrecked my mask. Do you know how much it cost me?" spat Erik. She snatched it off his face and slapped him.

"You're so pathetic! You call yourself the phantom of the opera and you're upset over a bloody mask!" She then threw it at his head. Erik ducked just in time, and it smashed on the floor.

"Christine Daee, you get your boat down here right now!" called Madame Giry from across the lake. Erik laughed, and she stared daggers at him before climbing into the boat Erik had carved for her and sailing over to her angry foster-mother.

"What did you just smash?" asked Madame Giry.

"Erik's mask," said Christine.

"Well you just stop that right now. Your father would be turning in his grave if he knew you were throwing other people's property around."

"Sorry Madame Giry," said Christine.

"And keep your voice down. We can here you bickering all the way upstairs," she said.

"Sorry." Christine turned around to get in the boat, but Madame Giry stopped her.

"And I'm to remind you that there's a rehearsal tomorrow at 1 o clock. No excuses."

"I'll be there," she said, getting into the boat, but Madame Giry stopped her again.

"I know when you're skiving Christine. I can hear groaning going on down here when you're supposed to be at rehearsals." Christine blushed.

"I won't skive," she assured, sailing away. Honestly, she was sure that woman had bat ears.

"What did Madame Giry say?" asked Erik. Christine barged past him.

"Leave me alone Erik. I hate you right now." She stormed into her room and got her suitcase out.

"What are you doing?" a voice sounded behind her. She sighed, couldn't he leave her alone for one minute?

"I'm packing. I don't want to live with your wretched, cruel, violent ways a moment longer," said Christine.

"Please don't be mad my dear. I never meant to throw you into the lake," he said.

"No, don't you dare tell me that. You're far from sorry," she hissed venomously. Erik softly caressed her cheek, and she stared deep into his eyes. Was it her, or were they beginning to look sexy again? She hesitated before pulling away.

"Just keep you hands to yourself," she said. He ignored her, crashing his sensual lips against hers. She wanted to pull away, to slap him, to throttle him and spit on his dead body, but the taste of his mouth made her want more. More… more… more… suddenly she had a thought.

"Erik, I need to get the pizza out the oven."

"Screw the pizza," he replied, lowering his hands to her breasts.

"But Erik… oh Erik… oh that feels so nice, how do you do that? Oh my god Erik, oh… oh… oh yes… oh shit," cried Christine as the smoke alarm went off. She ran into the kitchen and grabbed the pizza out the oven, but it was too late.

"Oh dear," she sighed, throwing it into the bin.

"How badly did it burn?" asked Erik as they waited for their dinner to arrive in Restaurante la Grande.

"Beyond repair," she replied, taking a sip of her wine.

"Never mind. Cheers," he said, lifting his glass up.

"Cheers."

TBC