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Do I Dream Again?	By : LaurieBaker Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 10050 -:- 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
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Erik paced the hallways of the boarding house in a state of extreme rage and frustration in the dead of night, clenching and unclenching his fists in a steady rhythm.

Everything had been going so well. No, that was an insult to his lover. Everything had been paradise.

At last, he had his sweet Christine exactly the way he had dreamed of her for so long, naked and quivering underneath him. Despite his past experience with the ‘joys of the flesh’, she was still the only woman for him and always would be. Although he remembered his past interludes with the prostitute Elissa distastefully, he could not completely regret those sessions. In fact, it had proved to be for the best as he had learned all too well how to please a woman. So Erik took complete advantage of Christine’s innocence, determined to make her burn so hotly for him that she would never again turn her sights to any other man, no matter how wealthy or handsome.

Thus, he feasted upon her blushing flesh, reveling in every shocked gasp and pleasured sigh that escaped from her lips. With deliberate slowness, he explored the taste and touch of her body, memorizing the smallest details of her so that he should never lose the image from his mind. The sight of how she looked, with her long dark curls cascading about her bare white shoulders, would be eternally etched into his memory like that of a beloved painting. He would always recall her small coral nipples, eagerly taut and awaiting his touch...her soft pink lips, trembling as he once again became her teacher and master, commanding her with his kisses...her slim womanly thighs hesitantly spreading for him, allowing him entrance into heaven....her secret flesh, swollen and weeping for him and him alone...

More often than not, Erik had cursed his existence, fervently wishing that his mother had just killed him as an infant and had spared him a lifetime of pain. Yet, during those moments of shared intimacies with Christine, he had never before had so much he wanted to live for. There was no mask or murder, no repulsion or fear...just Christine...just his Angel with a soft smile on her lips as she embraced his naked body shyly, surrendering to him completely.

Oh, how he loved her!

In the past, after Christine had fled from him with her Vicomte, he had often wondered if perhaps his feelings for her had been merely a mixture of obsession, loneliness and madness. Even as he screamed out his love for her in the lonely night, a part of him still wondered if he even knew what love was, having never experienced it from anyone. But now he knew it in his soul. He would walk through fire for her. He would die for her. He would do anything that she commanded...anything except leave her...

Then that blasted landlady, the Hobbes woman, ruined everything!

As soon as he had heard Mildred’s voice, Erik knew that her presence could bode no good. Despite her cries of emergency, he had been reluctant to leave Christine’s side and get dressed. Yet his lover was terrified that they would be scorched to death as she hurriedly sprang up from the bed. When he suggested that perhaps they should try to exit the building in different directions, she would hear none of it, remarking that she would rather have her reputation ruined than burn or die by fire. Frantically throwing her nightgown over her head, she held the ripped edges tightly over her breasts, unable to find her robe and uncaring. With exasperation, he retrieved his mask and cape before they both descended the staircase.

Perhaps Christine’s memory was befuddled by fear, confusion or lust, but it was obvious that she had no recollection of the fire at the Paris Opera House. If she had, she would have seen right away that this was not nearly the inferno that the landlady would have had them believe. Indeed, when they reached the bottom floor, he was disgusted to see that it was only a small stove fire which Mildred could have easily put out herself.

How he yearned to throttle the woman! Whether she had ulterior motives or was simply a fool, either sin was unforgivable in his opinion, especially this night when he had almost attained everything that he had ever desired.

When he caught sight of Mildred outside of the kitchen on the first floor, he could have sworn that the frizzy-haired demon had a sadistic grin on her face as she spied them together on the steps. And then the damned bitch had the gall to suddenly change her expression, staring at Christine with an open mouth and wide eyes in pretended shock at her disheveled appearance. As if Mildred Hobbes was not in the habit of grabbing strangers and forcing her attentions upon them!

Immediately, the landlady’s face fell into a mask of distress as she hurried to his side, clutching at his wrist.

“Please, sir!” she begged. “Please, you got to put out that bloody fire! What about that there cape you got? Think that would be of any use to gettin’ it put out?”

Erik had half a mind to fling the wretched woman onto the fire himself before he was going to leave Christine’s side and ruin his cape. Yet he noticed that there were no able-bodied men about. And Christine was looking at him with hopeful eyes, forcing him to play the hero. Silently, he nodded and began extinguishing the flames with his cape, doing his best to keep his back turned and his face hidden from view as he did so.

That was when he saw Mildred Hobbes whisper into Christine’s ear. He had no way of knowing what she had said, but whatever had transpired, the damage had been done for he saw his lover become as pale as a ghost. With a flustered motion, she hurriedly left the scene of the accident as soon as she could and fled to her room upstairs.

As quickly as he could, Erik followed Christine to her room. Awkwardly, he knocked upon her door. Being a creature who was accustomed to simply taking whatever he desired, he was not used to such trivial details as locked doors.

“Christine...?” he called out to her. “The fire’s all out now, my dear. May I come in?”

There was no answer.

“Please let me in, Angel...”

“No, Erik, leave me alone!” she cried out. “What we did was wrong! It was a shameful sin!”

Oh, was that all she was worried about? Erik shook his head in amusement at her silly religious fears.

“You must not feel that way, my love,” he cajoled. “We shall marry at once if you wish it.”

Even with his promises, Erik’s mind raced. Surely there was some official who could be bribed into marrying them with no trouble.

“I...I do not know if I wish to marry right now...”

No! No, by God, this would not happen! He would not lose her again!

“Christine,” he started, struggling to keep his voice calm. “My dear, after all we have shared, it is only proper that we should marry. I took horrible advantage of your innocence and reputation.”

“No...Erik, please...I need time to think...”

What was there to think about, damn it? They loved each other! Why did women always have to think so damned much?

“Darling, there is really nothing to think about. Surely you know now that we were meant to be...”

“This is too soon, Erik,” she responded. “So much has happened so fast. I am just not ready to marry you yet...”

Oh, his heart was breaking! He wanted nothing more than to share the rest of his life with her. How could she have such reluctance and doubt?

The inevitable happened. His pain hardened into hot anger.

“You never seemed so damned prudent about marrying the Vicomte right away!” he snapped.

“I did not marry him though, did I!” she responded, her voice equally as furious. “And he was always a gentleman! He never would have...” She stopped, unable to speak of their prior activity.

With a sneer, he could almost envision how she must have looked with her maidenly blush as she stammered.

“I do not recall hearing you begging me to stop, Mademoiselle Daae,” he jeered coldly. “I was under the foolish impression that you were rather enjoying it.”

“Well, you seduced me so quickly that I didn’t have a chance to...”

“I SEDUCED YOU!?!”

“Erik, keep your voice down!”

“I seduced you, did I?!” he raged, uncaring if the whole building heard him. “I was going to leave London at once, but then you started to throw your arms around me and kiss me! If anyone is the seducer between the two of us, it is you, you cruel viper!”

“How dare you!” He heard her foot stamp in outrage. “Need I remind you that you are the one who followed me here to London, pretending that you were dead the whole time! I did not mean to kiss you at all, but you made me feel sorry for you, like you always do...”

“You experienced passion, not pity, Christine!” he hissed. “Do not lie to me or to yourself!”

“I do not wish to discuss it anymore. I want to go to bed. I’m tired!”

The thought of spending another lonely night without her was unbearable. Yet there was nothing but silence, despite his threats and pleadings. With hopeless resignation, he hung his head sadly. There was nothing more to be done...at least not on this night...

Consumed with mixed emotions, Erik moved away from her door. Nothing would be gained by loitering about like a randy tomcat. Yet his thwarted passion made him so angry that he was consumed with a different sort of lust...the lust for blood...

Snarling, Erik made his way towards the bottom floor where Mildred Hobbes lived.

He would make her pay!
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Do I Dream Again?