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Replaying Past	By : RubyNatulieLee Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 7371 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 13
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- 15
Disclaimer: I do not own or make any sort of money off of this based story. I only own the charaters of Esme Lonsdale, Eddy and his sister Crystal, The wig maker, Nicolas and the three boys from Sandor's gang. Everything else I do not own nor belong to me. ]

~~~~~~~~{@

He could still hear it.

It echoed louder then the thunder outside, louder then voices of his singer, who screamed when he brought her here for the first time. He could hear it, and it left him within his numb state.

He could hear Esme retreating footsteps, hushing along the stone covered floor, her heart tore sobs, gagged by her hand as she tried to stop them, as she bolted through the mirror. She left him, cause of his bitter words. He had no right to run after her. He spoke with his anger and it chased away his dancer, just like his singer. But this hurt him far more worst, then the night long ago. This made him feel, like his very soul, he dimmed gone, was ripped from his very body, the moment Esme sobbed. He had met his mark, he wanted to hurt her and so he had. He should be pleased, but his heart twisted, his mind, screaming in his rage, ‘You fool!’ Echoing to him, making his trembling hands rise to his head.

‘Why?!’

I don’t know…

‘You threw away the one chance we had to find someone.’

Yes…

‘She was perfect. She could have loved us with our mask!’

His fingers curled into his black hair, his body beginning to tremble. But his mind ragged on, beating his self-esteem down to the glass covered floor. ‘All these months, we waited to see if she would turn out like that bitch of a singer, and now when we find out she didn’t. You chase her away. You are a monster!’ Erik pressed his shoulder into the cold wall, his eyes tightly closed, trying to push away his inner voice. “No...”

‘Monster…’

“No!” He shouted, shocking his head, shoving off the wall, tripping over his own feet, his cloak wrapping around him as he fell, his head smacking right into the floor, knocking the breath from his lungs, and the tears from his eyes. Upon the ground he stared up at his ceiling, struggling to regain his breath back. He had chased his dancer away, just like his singer. A sob broke through his throat before a rush of fresh hair lifted his chest. He was alone again…

Slowly his body began to tremble, rolling himself over onto his side, he regained his footing, letting himself stand within his own darkness, his fist curling into a tight ball at his side. One step, only one step was taken towards the mirror, to chase after Esme, to throw himself at her knees and begs for her forgiveness for being the way he was. But the echoes of glass shattered whiffed up to his ears, causing him to come to stop. Slowly he looked down, seeing one part of the glass stem from the rose, lying in bits under him. The site made his heart sink, before rage filled him again.

Raoul…

He could not see her tonight. Not while his wound was still fresh. He feared what he would do to her, if given the chance. With a dark feeling in his soul, he turned and made his was to his bed, his cloak dropping from his shoulders to the floor. He’ll find her tomorrow, he’ll explain everything thing. But in till then, he’ll sleep on it, letting his rage cool. But as he lay, fully clothed, fully masked, he could not help but have the sinking feeling that something bad was going to stir tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~{@

The night’s music whispered within the empty room, in which Esme sat in. Her body slumped over, resting upon her arms, her shoulder trembling from her tears and heart braking sobs. Her cracked rose bloom lingering before her. He had shattered her gift, and in the processes, he had shattered her very heart. Tears fell faster when she looked up from her arms, seeing the black glass glitter within the moonlight. Its beauty torn away by a night of rage, leaving it to lay limp upon the cold ground. Sniffling, wiping her tears from her cheek with her palms, she reached and slowly drew the glass towards her.

She worked so hard to get it. Thinking how beautiful it was compare to her Phantom. Tears fell again as she broke into another sob. He would never talk to her. He threw her from his room, leaving her to cry and sob within her own. All her trying for nothing. But struggling to stop her tears, she slowly placed the broken glass upon the window seal before her. Its dust covered curtains, waving its pity to her from the cool nights air. She stared at the rose, brushing back her bangs. How could he do such a thing, how was she to know about his past if he would not open to her.

For the first time, since her father was murdered, rage filled her broken heart. He kept himself locked away, leaving her to figure out and struggle to find out what she could do to make him happy. And when she believed she had, he broke it. It was not her fault, she did her best to make him happy, he was being to stubborn. He had no right to be mad at her! Out of pure rage, her right fist smacked into the desk, causing the glass bud to rattle, since the desk was pressed into the wall. He had no right at all!

But fresh tears fell, mixed with her rage and sorrow. Shoving herself to her feet, she pulled out the outfit she wore, dressing herself in her thin white gown sitting upon her bed, pushing back the covers. The thoughts of what she wanted to see on her Phantoms when he saw his gift replaying in her mind. In stead, of seeing the surprise face, then his lips quicken with smile. She saw the shock horrid look then a glimpse of pure rage. Something that made her heart feeling like someone had shoved a knife right into it. Making her choke back a sob before fall backward onto her bed, burying her tear stained face into the pillow.

~~~~~~~~{@

Sleep did not welcome Erik like he hoped it would. Tossing and turned on his back, his mind racing with the look upon his dancer faces’ and the cracking sob the echoed in his ears. He could not shut them off, could not deft his ears to those sounds, that made his very heart tighten with grief. His eyes’ slowly did open, his lost blue orbs staring into his music box, which sat waiting for a key of a key, to play his gentle music. Bowing his head, he pressed his left cheek into his pillow, remembering the night, Ruby had held him, so close, so gentle. Warming his bones and giving him hope. She hadn’t tried to take or rip his mask off like his singer had done.

The morning sun hasn’t even rose when he slowly got from his bed. His clothing wrinkled, his hair standing on end. His eyes stared at the ground a little, his mind losing itself within his thoughts. Then fear grabbed him. He never gave the thought, that his reaction might have chased her off into the bitter cold. Never thinking that when he woke and went to find her, she would be gone. Fear grabbed him, fear of being alone again. Shoving from the side of his bed, he raced to his mirror. Needing to see if she was still here. If he found her room empty and she was no where in sight, he would hunt her down! He will find her and bring her back, kicking and screaming if he must, he will not let her leave, he couldn’t bare it!

He never ran as fast as he did threw the passages, needing, wanting to see her laying within her bed. Curled under the covers, he needed to know she was still there. Sweat trailed down his body, causing his wrinkled clothing to cling to him. What if she was gone, he couldn’t bare it. Where would she go? To Raoul perhaps?

“No!” He roared; his words echoing threw the dark passage.

Soon he came to a stop, his body lingering within a little room that was used by Buquet, one of the many helping hands upon the stage, whom use to try and sneak peeks into the dancers rooms, to find them changing and disrobing. He was glad he killed the old man. He was a sick twisted man, plus he tried to kill him. Or something close to it. But, with trembling hands. He took one of the slips of wallpaper that look as if peeling off, and lifted it up. His eyes staring into the dark room. Fear grabbed him, numbing his very body. She was gone… He brought this on himself; he knew that. But he didn’t want to believe such a thing. Closing his eyes tightly, his forehead pressing into the wall, fighting back the sorrow that was engulfing him.

In till he heard a little muttered and the sound of covers rustle. He went quiet and still, before slowly looking back in. The darkness placed the room in pitch black, but soon his eyes adjusted, letting him see the bed in which his dancer laid in. Her body curling, under the covers, hugging onto one of the other pillows from the random beds around her. She looked so alone, so small. But he only let out the breath he held, before smiling to himself. She was still here. She didn’t leave him alone.

‘Esme….’

The warmth around her in thick layers of covers surrounded her body from the chilling cold outside. Erik had given them to her when the site of snow started to form, he didn’t want her to get sick and miss a day of lesson for her violin was his excuse, but he knew better. He just wanted to take care of her, make sure she didn’t get sick. But in the mist of her darkness of sleep, music like voice whispered out to her.

‘Esme….’

This stirred her, making her frown, her head bowing down to bury more into the pillow. But the voice whispered words to her that she could not fully understand. But the sound was filled with grief and pain. Was her mind playing tricks on her? But slowly her eyes open, and the darkness greeted her. Pushing herself up, her right hand rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She stared into the shadows, letting her eyes gaze around, seeing if anyone was here. But before she could call it quits and let herself fall back asleep. A quick movement came from the corner of her eye, making her head snapped And when she did, Her body jerked still.

Erik stood beside her. His presence making her frown and slowly pull the covers she held tightly up over her chest. He spoke not to her, but only stared. Was he waiting for something? Was he still mad? Perhaps he was upset to find her still here. She looked away from him, staring to the floor at her side. But it didn’t last. For Erik reached out, gently taking her chin within his grasp, pulling her face, letting her eyes rest back to him. “Don’t.” He whispered. Her eyes only looked back up to him, but her face held nothing. No emotion, no sadness, no rage, no nothing. It made his heart tighten. He despised that look, even thou he saw it more on himself within the mirrors he broken.

Why was he here? She didn’t understand what he wanted. It was so hard for her to keep the sadness she felt inside. He would never know the kind of pain he had caused her. But before she could part her lips to ask. He moved, resting his body upon the mattress, Settling besides her shivering form. He spoke not one word, but his eyes told her so much. What was he trying to say? Even without his words. What was he longing to repeat to her. Her mind shattered, her thoughts fading from her as Erik bent over, his firm lips, softly touching her temple.

The simple tenderness, of that one kiss made Esmes eyes widen and her body stiffen. But he did not stop there, for his lips trailed down from her temple down to her cheek, where his breath brush along her flesh, making a jolt shot up her spine. His fingers, that were so large and warm against her own, slowly pushed the covers down, letting his eyes see her thin white gown. He could see the way she breathed from her chest, her breasts rising and falling. His groin tighten from the mere sight, of the whiskey color nipples that had harden and pressed into the satin fabric. Pure lust shot threw him and he could not stop, when his hand rose up and cupped one of her ample breasts. Air rushed threw her slightly parted lips from the felt of his hand upon her tender flesh, squeezing the mound, his thumb brushing lazy strokes across her nipple, making her back pressed into the head board. What was he doing to her?
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- 14
- 15
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Replaying Past