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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
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[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. ]

'Ha...Music of the night... What a crack that was."

Eriks heavy steps padded against the rock floor, his right hand held up on the moist stone wall to keep his balance as his body swayed side to side, his eyes blurred from the amount of wine he had drowned himself in.

"Only you, my angle. Could make my song take flight... All bow, to the fool of wishful thinking." He slurred out, his left hand holding up a wine bottle, covered with days of dust and a peeling label. "Bow. To his stupid dreams, or having a simple women. In his bed." He came to a slow stop; his knees buckling under his weight, crashing to his knees, then to his backside, settling upon the ground. His shoulder pressed into the wall beside him, his fingers clinging into the bottle, as if it were the only thing he had left. Which, in his eyes; was. "No women, not even the whores on the streets will touch me." He growled, his dimming vision staring emptily into the bottles smooth glass. Giving him a small glimpse of himself. Of his mask he wore, that covered the truth of why his singer ran away.

"Damn you!" He cried, with all the anger and pain that swelled within, that infected his very mind and being like a sickness, that no matter how long he waited or what he did, will never cease. "Beast!" With all his force, he threw the bottle from his site, from his very hand. Wishing no more to stare upon his face, that will never hold true beauty. The easing sounds of shattered glass met his ears and he could do nothing more but lean on the wall, and gather himself once again. His singer was most likely right now, in the arms of her lover. Tangles in a bed of silk sheets and petals of roses. With her warm skin pressed so nicely into her lovers’ form, together entwine. The thought turned his stomach. And gorge filled his throat. But swallowing the bitter taste down, his fingers dug into the rocky wall, shoving him self back to his feet.

Erik had spent his night, like he had done every week. Leaving his tomb of bitterness and pain, he seeped out a wine cellar in which he drank deeply from, wanting to drink out the memories of his past. Even forget. But they always seem to sneak back and every time. Far worse then the last. Of course, in the back of his mind, he should just surround to the fact. That he would never get her back. Nor will any women touch him. He was, after all.

The Devils Child.

A title that was burned into his mind and was never healed.

But the day would soon approach. And his legs and body begged to be let down to sleep. "Back to my cold bed." He grumbled; his hands helping him walk towards his hidden passage. "Back, to my sad state of mind."

Trembling hands removed the red velvet drapes, that covered his full-length mirror, letting his body step threw. His eyes burned from the light of the candles, making him grunt out and cover them with his arm. The light shot a numbing throb within his temples, telling him. The beginning of a headache was coming. But sleep will knock it over and he will wake up, with a new day to sulk and sit. And wish for the life that would never be his. His ears listened to the water drops of his home, the noise calming him slightly, but not enough.

Climbing the set of stairs, that led him towards his bed. He started to remove his clothing. Pulling his shirt out from within his trousers embrace, yanking it over his head and tossed carelessly to the side. Like old habits, his right hand reached out, grabbing the dangling rope that pulled the black drapes up from the bed. His eyes, to blurry and narrowed, didn’t notice the lump already tucked in the covers. Reason being, he sat himself upon the edge, kicking away his shoes and socks. His misted mind, which sways with the laziness of cheep French wine. Didn't give him the care or the strength to remove his trousers.

And so with a deep breath, and a long sigh, he removed his mask from his face, letting his horrid, scarred, infected skin get a breath of cool damp air. Tossing the mask carelessly to the floor, he fell backwards. His body falling heavily upon the soft mattress and his head, land on something frim, yet.... Bonny...

A squeal ripped from under the covers, causing Esme reaction to sit up blindly, the covers to fling off from her torso. Erik let out a cry as well, as his body jerking up at the same time as the stranger within his bed.

.... A stranger...

Silence stuck its tune. Esme sat within the middle of the swan bed. Her hand pressed against her breast, where her heart raced wildly. Her mess of Red curls fallen before her eyes, covering her sight of who or what stuck her. Erik sat there shocked yet amused. Someone... A lass... Most defalently a lass. Sat within his bed. From being drunk, he sobered up pretty quickly. When he watched her hands rise up to remove her hair from her eyes. She was going to look at him, and see his horrid face. With a curse, he shoved himself from the bed top, picking up his tossed mask from the ground. As her eyes looked towards Erik's back. His mask was slipped back into place. But his temper slipped bitterly into his voice as he spoke.

"Who are you and why are you in my home?!"

Erik could feel warmth on his back, was she staring at him with fear? Did she see his face? Good, let her fear. How dare she brake into his home and sleep in his bed. His body turned to charge at the young lass for being so naive to brake into the 'Phantoms' home. When he suddenly came to a complete stop. She was sitting in the middle of his bed. Her eyes widen in shock, and her face flush... Not of fear but of.... No.

Esme stared into the blue eyes of the man that had stuck her within the mists of her sleep. She new the risks of laying within a bed that was not hers. But she never thought, never imaged someone. Like 'him' waking her. But to hear his bitter voice made her body jerk and the site of him...Without a shirt, within black tight trousers, that shaped his strong legs and hips, made her more flush and nervous, besides fear. They stared, she didn’t know for how long. But her mind finally snapped back into place. And her thoughts were shattered with a true fact.

"Oh!" Quickly she turned and crawled to the opposed side of his bed, putting distance between them both. She had a feeling, if she was closer to him, he would snap her neck like a twig. "I'm so sorry!" She began. Shoving herself to her trembling feet, turning back to face him fully. "I thought someone lived here, since the candles were lit and all, but I didn’t think you'll be back so soon. Well, I don’t really know what time you would be back, I hardly know you so its wrong for me to judge and say you'll be back whenever I think and so forth. But you see, I was being chased and I just need a place to hide. I know this isn’t a good intro-"

"Quiet!" He barked.

Esmes' mouth snapped shut as her body jerked, her back pressed into the damp wall. All the thoughts of the handsome man before her washed away, with the fear and terror that he 'would' kill her. He stayed where he was, for now. Only his narrowed cold eyes and his bitter voice speaking out. "Where did you come from?" Guiding by her outfit, she wasn’t from around her. So he waited, but he could not help but over look her figure. She was a very pretty young lady. She held the color of fire upon her head and a warming aura within her eyes. And her skin, far darker then of the ladies he had seen before on the stage. But it suited her, made her look more... stunning. Her lips, that looked soft and tender, parted and closed, every now and then as she tried to speak. She was trying his time, even though he didn’t mind. " I will not ask again."

"The Freak show."

Erik’s eyes narrowed, "Pardon me?" He growled, he voice covering once again by anger. Was she calling him a freak? So she had seen his face. "You little..." With a shove, he pushed himself onto his bed and across, his arms reaching out for her, "I'll teach you to call me a freak!"

Her eyes widen in fear as he lunged at her, making a scream rip threw her throat. Her body ducked when he reached, letting his hand met the rocky wall and her frame brush past him, crawling back over the bed to the other side, trying to keep their distance. But he only stalked her, making her whimper out. "No! You’re misunderstanding! I'm from the Freak Show. Me!" But he only raced after her. Her feet pressing into the ground as she ran down those short flights of stairs. But where was she to go? She was stuck on a sandbar! But in the mitts of her thoughts, a large hand grabbed her right arm tightly when she reached the last step, yanking her back into the man that chased her. He held her arms tightly, she feared he would brake her bones if he gripped any tighter. Tears formed within her tightly closed eyes as she wiggled and struggled to free herself from his grip. Her legs kicking widely in till she shuck his right knee, making him swear an oath before shoving her to the ground.

"You don’t look like the type who would belong in such a place." He growled, before falling to his knees, even if his right one throbbed from the strike. He grabbed at Esmes' hips, when she started to push herself back up to run. Yanking her back to the stone ground, making her cry out. Erik showed no mercy, straddling her waist, he pinned her arms to her side, snarling from her rapidly kicking legs as she cried and screamed. " Please! Let me go! I didn’t do anything! I just slept, that’s all!"

"You're a gypsy aren’t you. One of those whores that dance." He felt her body thrust up, moving wildly under his own, her head shaking from side to side, sobbing like her very life was being ripped from her. At least not yet. Yanking her upper body up, letting her face be held close to his own, he whispered; "I don’t care who you are, I don’t care where you come from or why your here. I want you out of my home and out of my sight, now leave!" He shoved her back to the ground, making her back strike the rock floor, knocking the breath she held out. Removing himself from the young women’s tender figure, he stepped away, watching her curl up and roll to her side, coughing, little hiccups passing her trembling lips.

She had this coming. She repeated to herself. She knew the risk, but she was so tired. Catching her breath and the facts of the ordeal. She slowly started to push her body up. Leaning upon her elbows, taking a few deep breaths, to get her back under control. She was accepted no where... Fresh tears fell as she pushed herself up to her knees. She didn’t want to go back. They would find her and surly kill her. She didn’t want to go back. Fully standing, she looked back to the man who seemed to be lost within his own world of anger and bitter hate. It was no use... She got out lucky. He could have killed her besides bruise her. "I'm sorry." She whispered, before she limped her way towards her bundle that was still settled at the shore edge. Her right knee, already skinned from her fall at the window, was throbbing from the impact of the fall. Her knee striking the rock ground. She could still move her toes which told her, her knee was not shattered or popped out of place, but that she wasn’t going to be running anytime soon.

Erik watched his trespasser leave. He should kill her. It was his right. She broke in into his home, slept in his bed... and ran away... The more he thought and the more he watched... The guiltier he felt. She truly didn’t do anything wrong.... He frowned to himself... Was this the anger that made his Singer run away...Was this the one thing, that was going to keep him alone? The sound of rippling water whispered into his ears. Looking to, he saw the young Gypsy stepping into the water, going towards the gate. This is what he wanted... He wanted to be alone.

...

"Wait."
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Replaying Past