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An Old Fashioned Dream	By : LillyFair Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 3177 -:- 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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The wine glass shattered into a thousand tiny pieces and the remaining wine fell onto the blazing fire enhancing the flames until it looked like an entrance into the underworld. The Persian, who had stopped by for the routine visit of his friend just glared at him.

“You might as well forget it Erik, you are never going to find it. Maybe it was for the best anyway. You could start fresh with no attachments to your past.” Erik looked at his friend his eyes blazing in the darkened room. Most of the candles had gone out hours before leaving the roaring fire the only light to illuminate the room.

“Perhaps you should leave dear friend, before I loose all care for your well being.”

“You couldn’t let me die in your torture chamber with that boy and you wouldn’t harm me now.” Erik grabbed the Persian’s coat that had been carelessly thrown on the floor during the search and gracefully handed it too him.

“I came very close my friend, undeniably close.” The Persian noted the malice in his voice at took his coat from him knowing he should leave him alone.

“Ay…that you did…that you did indeed. On that note I shall take me leave.” He dropped his casual tone and looked seriously at Erik.

“Take my advice Erik, as hard as it will be, leave her alone, there is no need to cause her extra unnecessary grief.”

“Why? Is she all right?” asked Erik impatiently.

“I know only what I see dear friend, and I cannot see very clearly at all these days. Adieu mon ami. I hope you find it. I hope you gain peace.”

Erik remained silent as he watched his friend leave from the window. He was right of course he would never harm him; but sometimes the presence of his friend was more trying that he wanted to deal with. As soon as the Persian left he started his search with a renewed fury.

He threw pillows, upturned cushions, knocked over chairs and tables and threw burnt out candles and countless other items of unimportance around the disheveled room.

He completely turned his home upside down looking for the lost item. Nothing else mattered to him; he would break every window or burn the entire estate to the ground just to find her ring.

He chuckled to himself at the thought of his home. His estate, he never thought it possible. Well before he had made off with Christine in front of the audience, he had asked Jules to purchase a home for him and his “wife”. Something that she would be honored to live in, but yet something that was also far enough away and secluded that they would have their privacy.

Jules found the perfect place; a well-sized estate was abandoned just a twenty-minute carriage ride away from Paris. As soon as Erik saw it, he knew it would perfect for her. He had Jules make the purchase under an assumed name, for the title of the deed could not actually say O.G. Then Erik, through Jules had commissioned the repairs and restoration.

The estate, while not as grand as the Chagny estate was well off for a newly married couple, the river was slightly diverted to empty in a lake in the back of the house, then it emptied back into the river. Whoever had built this house had wanted elegance and privacy.

He had often dreamed of making love to Christine under the stars, or as mundane as it was to simply hold in the boat under the moonlight. Everything was set for her, it was perfect and it was all for nothing. After she ran off with Raoul, he had nowhere else to go. He couldn’t exactly stay at the Opera House any longer, so he just moved in. Jules purchased everything that was needed; he was instructed to fill every room except one.

One room belonged to her, even though he knew she would never see it. He painted a portrait of her in the wedding gown and hung it above the mantle-piece. Under the cover of night he moved all the furniture from the Louis-Phillip room, all of her dresses that she had left behind, a hand mirror, and a hair ribbon. He put everything in its proper place, and always brought fresh roses into the room. It somehow made him feel closer to her, even though he would never again see her.
Erik snapped out of his trance and returned to the chaos of the drawing room. He sat down in despair and looked directly into the flames of the fire.

“Oh Christine…Why did you have to choose that damned boy? He took off his mask and stared off into the flames, secretly hoping that they would consume him and the entire place. His thoughts drifted back to that night; the last time he saw her, the last time he was able to hold her.

****************************Flashback***********************************

Raoul and the Persian were in the next room recovering after being rescued by Erik in the sinking torture Chamber. Christine and Erik were left alone in the Louis- Philippe room to say goodbye.

She had an unreadable expression on her face; she really didn’t know what she was feeling herself. She loved Raoul of that she was sure; she had loved him since she was a 12 years old who had seen the silly boy jump into the sea for her red scarf.

Erik, her angel, threw everything in disorder, he was her angel of course, her friend, but there was something else there too. If only she could split herself in half and be with both men, but alas she could only truly belong to one.

She didn’t want to hurt Erik; she knew her leaving would leave him brokenhearted, and that thought of that made her tears start to fall.

“I’m sorry Erik. I wish with all my heart things could have been different between us.” Her tears glistened in the dim candlelight as it flowed gracefully down her face. Erik wiped away the tears from her face with his thumb, gently caressing her cheek, and looked what he had reduced her to.

“My dearest Christine. I will always love you. I don’t blame you for what has happened. It is no ones fault but my own, you made me see that. It has been the deformity of my face that set me apart from the rest of the world, but it is in my soul that I am truly deformed” Christine shuttered at the words she had yelled to him just moments before. His soul wasn’t deformed, it was gentle and kind, he had shown her that on countless occasions, but she could not say or do anything but cry.

“ I can’t blame you for wanting to be happy Christine. That is all I ever wanted for you.” He looked directly into her eyes, as she returned his glare. Knowingly or not she slowly drew closer to Erik and looked deep into those flaming eyes.

In response to her movement he put her hands around her waist, and his heart almost stopped when he felt her lips close over his. She was intoxicating; she tasted of a sweetness that he had never known before. He had never kissed a woman, but he had full knowledge of what desire was, and he had imagined her in his arms so many times that he got lost in his thoughts and slowly urged her lips to part with his tongue.

He was pleasantly surprised when she touched his tongue with her own, and seemed to have a passion that matched his own, but it probably was his imagination playing tricks with his senses. His hands slowly moved up and down her back, reveling in the feel of her hair and her body. He held her close, and tearfully whispered to her.

“Thank you Angel. I love you and I always will." He pushed her away because he was finding it hard not to take her right here and now.

"Whenever and wherever you sing I will always be there even though I may not appear to be, I promise you I will always be there." At that particular moment Raoul entered the room or at least made his presence known.

“We must hurry,” replied Raoul, “we really must leave.” Erik turned away from them. Christine wanted to say something, but before she could manage anything Erik's voice broke the silence.

“Go! Go now and leave me!” Christine, feeling even worse than she did before she came to say goodbye turned from him and left with Raoul. As soon as she left Erik sat down in his chair and let go of his tears. He felt so lonely and heartbroken, that he did not see or hear Christine re-enter the room.

Christine whose eyes were also red and swollen from crying entered the room. She paused for a moment to simply look at him. She looked down at her hands in sorrow she had made her choice why wasn’t she happy.

Her eyes immediately fell toward the ring that Erik had given her onstage. The ring was perfect; it was not too big or distasteful, and its artistic beauty shown into the darkness. She retrieved the ring from her finger and just held it, her fast flowing tears falling directly upon the stones allowing the romantic candlelight to enhance the exquisite quality of the ring's perfection.

“E. . .Erik!" she cried. At the sound of her voice Erik tried desperately to compose himself, he didn't want Christine to think of him like this but despite his attempts they proved useless.

“I know you gave this to me but I want you to have it. I...I, do not deserve to have it. She placed the ring gently into his hand and closed his fingers around it.
He stared at his closed palm. She would never know of the countless hours he spent searching for the perfect quality and design one in which corresponded exactly with her personality and delicate body.

He made sure she did not regret her decision then took her ring and placed it on his finger. She rushed into his arms and kissed him one last time. She loved the feel of his touch and suddenly wanted to be closer to him. She wrapped her arms around him almost afraid to let him go, this moment belonged to him, and him alone.

He secured his hand in her hair and bent her backward over his arm moving his lips from her face, down her throat and across her collarbone. She moaned in response to his ferocity and threaded her fingers through his soft hair. Her fingers sild down front of his chest unconsciously popping the few buttons open, allowing her access to his skin; she couldn’t help but notice how muscular he was.

He wanted to capture that moment for as long as he could, he was shocked to say the least but he wouldn’t argue with holding her one last time. He knew he had to let her go, so when the kiss ended he made no further move to touch her.

“Please do not forget me.” She replied wiping the tears from her eyes. When he saw Christine exit through the threshold he called after her silently in his soft gentle voice.

“Oh Christine…I could never forget you, my love, even if I lived over a thousand years, you would always be in my heart.”

********************************End Flashback***************************

A soft and silent tear slid down the deformed side of Erik’s face as he sat alone in the empty house, thinking about the memory of his beloved. The fire had long died out and there was a chill in the air from the upcoming winter but he took no notice.

He got up from the floor; gave one last glance around the room to see if by some miracle the ring appeared but it was nowhere in sight. He poured himself a brandy laced with his trusty opium, and headed up the stairs to sleep in her room tonight. He hoped his dreams tonight would be merciful, for his life certainly was not.

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An Old Fashioned Dream