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Portrait of the Soul	By : sirenofsaturn Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 2723 -:- 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.

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/Glomps Erik/ 140 reviews!
Erik: …let…go…
Sorry! Oh my gods thank you all so much! I could cry (I think I am) with pride. You like it you really like it! Okay, here’s the drill! I own nothing except this fiction based plot and original characters…they and this fanfiction belong to ME! Not you, don’t take! Thank you for all the reviews…I encourage you to continue hint, hint! Erik, love, would you?
Erik: On with chapter nineteen.
When Erik opened his eyes that morning his vision struggled to adjust to the light. True as it was that his home was not the brightest, five cellars below ground level. However, when you have slept as long and as deep as Erik even a small candle’s light can seem blinding. His yellow eyes soon adjusted to the light of his drawing room. For a brief second Erik lost track of time. He had been in this situation before; bedridden on his own sofa, while out of his line of vision he could sense a woman preparing food. ‘Christine?’
“You’re scowling Erik. Does that mean you’re awake?”
“Mia.” Erik sighed in relief. Suddenly his memory began to catch up with him.
The European man had been beyond shocked when he realized Nadir had brought Mia to his home. She had forgiven. She had forgiven him, asking for nothing in return. She hadn’t even demanded to know what was going on, she only offered her ear if he wanted to talk about it. Erik was feeling out of sorts, not just because of the morphine. He had heard of these kind types, these woman who care for your privacy and well being without much in return. Erik just believed he would never actually meet one.
While Mia had gone to prepare the tea Nadir had helped Erik into the drawing room. The small group had remained uncomfortably silent as Erik carefully drank his tea, preparing himself for what was to come.
“Mia,” Erik began. “The reason I am sick is due to an addiction.”
“Morphine…”Mia finished.
Erik stared at her. “How did you-“
“I noticed an empty syringe lying around the first time I came to your home. Just a few minutes ago…I saw the empty packet on your night table.” Mia sighed, looking down at the fancy carpeting. “…I’m not stupid…how long?”
“More years than I care to count.” Erik answered. The shock of Mia knowing was easily erased. She was far from stupid; with the clues she had picked up it was a matter of time before she would have put it together. Besides it wasn't as though the country of Russia was foreign to the drug. In the run down cities around Moscow addicts would give the shirts of their backs for a simple dose. It was just like in Persia, the poor would sell their own children just for a puff off an opium pipe.
Conversation seemed to be lacking the rest of the night. Eventually Nadir had retired to his own home, leaving Mia to keep Erik company.
“Would you rather rest here, or in your bed?” The artist questioned.
“No my dear. You may use that bed as well as that room. I am fine were I am.” Erik sighed, knowing he would not have the strength to climb into his coffin.
He simply received a nod as Mia rose from her seat. “If you wont find it terribly rude of me then, I’ll say good night.”
“Good night.” Erik repeated. “…Mia, thank you.”
He was surprised when she continued to stand with her back facing him. His ears picked up her shaking breath as she managed a whisper. “…Are you dying?”
Erik gave a bitter laugh. “Aren’t we all?”
“That’s not what I met!”
The phantom stopped his teasing, this was the first time Mia had ever been short with him.
“From the drugs…are you dying, Erik?” She still had her back facing him, but her posture had changed. Her head was bowed and her arms were locked around herself. She was…shaking. For the first time in almost a decade Erik felt guilt so tremendous he feared he would be ill again.
“Mia, my dear. Please face me.” The artist stiffed, but remained facing the direction she was in. Erik was beginning to feel even uneasier. One of the things Mia had always given him was eye contact. He wanted the familiarity! He wanted to talk to her like a human being did. He wanted to see her brown depths full of mirth and passion. She was breaking off one of things he had become so accustomed to.
Reaching his arm out Erik gently held Mia’s wrist. “Please.” He asked once more, guiding her to sit besides him. Once the Jewish woman was by his side he used his other hand to slowly bring up her chin. The deep brown orbs remained downcast and tear glazed.
“My dear,” Erik sighed. “As far as my knowledge goes, this will not be the desire that kills me. I fear I will die from an addiction far greater than this one.”
Mia choked looking back down. “What addiction might that be?”
“An addiction,” Erik paused to tilt Mia’s chin up. “Of love. I fear I shall die of love, Mia. Die of love for you.”
The brown eyes that were once rimmed with tears were now overflowing. The Designer’s mouth kept opening trying to form words, but all she could manage were gentle sobs. Trying to regain herself Mia managed bury her face into Erik’s shoulder. “Please do not die of love.” She cried. “…I could not stand to be here alone without you.”
Erik laughed, pulling her closer to him. ‘Do you hear this God? Do you? She is saying this of her will! I will not let You hurt her! I will not die!’
“I will not die.” Erik whispered. “I will not leave you.”
After a few minutes Mia’s sobs had died, and her breathing evened into gentle slumber. Erik could not remember how he managed it, but he had carried her back to his mother’s bed.
He tried to remember how he had made it back to the sofa to sleep, but he could not. All he knew was he had awoken there the next morning, his mask removed and placed on the table.
“You’re scowling Erik. Does that mean you’re awake?”
“Mia.” Erik sighed. “Yes, I am awake. Forgive me for scowling, I have no reason to.” ‘As long as you are here beside me, I will have no reason to again.’
Alright, here is my confession. I cried while I was writing this…I couldn’t help it the tears just sort of poured out along with the words. I’m sorry. /wipes eyes/. I really did not mean to put that last part in there, but it just kind of slipped out. Please let me know how it affect you, or I’ll just assume I’m crazy, go ahead and say it Erik!
Erik: Which wouldn’t be too far from the truth…no it was too easy…
Thank you so much for helping us reach 140 reviews. I hope you enjoyed. Remember the disclaimers from above. I would also like to warn you that the next chapter might be a little late. I am flying up to see my parents for Thanksgiving. I will try to update next Sunday night, however I might be a little jet lagged. So if you’ll be patient, and review till then, I hope to have the next chapter up as soon as possible!
Erik: Happy Holidays, and please review.
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Portrait of the Soul