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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.

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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. ]

“Wait.”

Esme came to a stop, cold water brushing along her feet and knees. Keeping her back to the man whom so suddenly attacked her, when she tried to explain. She gripped tightly onto her bag a little more. Not trusting, not daring to look back into his cold eyes, not wanting to step back into his harmful grasp once again. And so, she moved forward, pushing against the water.

“No. Please I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Erik didn’t understand why he was saying such things. But; he had been alone for three months. And she truly didn’t do anything wrong. “Come out of the water. It must be cold.” He must have scared the poor girl, for she kept moving forward to the gate, letting the water seep up to her waist. Why must his anger always take control? Letting out a deep sigh, he threw his hands up a little. “Fine. But I do hope, you know your way around this theater.” He called out, a little smirk pulling at his lips. “One can get lost for days, if not guided right.” His smirk widen a little more when the girls body came to a stop. Her right hand touching the rusted gate. He had her there. It took her hours to find this one single place. How long would it take her to find her way back? Perhaps, she should just stay.

“I believe milord. I’ll take my chance out there then in here.”

Erik winced, stubborn girl. He didn’t think he would get a reply like that. He didn’t know what else to offer. He had scared her and she was walking away. Wait, this is good. Then he can be alone. Just him and…

He’s sorrow…

He didn’t want to be alone any more. His close friend, Madame Giry left soon after his nightmare began with Meg and never came to visit. Nor could he go seek her. Everyone would know whom he was, sine they still believed he lived. He must let the talks die down, before he set foot out of the theater walls and into the streets above. A deep gasp snapped his thoughts when he saw Esme plug her nose and without a single thought in his mind. He cried out.

“Are you hungry?”

She paused suddenly. Her hands still clinging to her nose and covering her mouth. Her cheeks puffed out from the air she held. But She looked to him. Her face showing the expression of disbelief, did he just say what she believed he said? Erik let out a deep breath, he didn’t know he held. He waved his hand, becking her to return. “You must be. A bonny Madame like you must be half starved. If… You come back. I’ll give you something to eat.” Esme still didn’t move, her little form starting to tremble from the cold water. Erik gave a little frown before he muttered, “I’ll keep a good distance from you.” Esme would have declined his offer. He just wanted to go back so he could torment her and beat her and worse! But her ears heard the sound’s of her protesting stomach, begging for a wee morsel to fill it. This masked man wasn’t playing fair.

“I do not know.”

Erik’s’ lips gave a small smile, before he slowly turned his back to her. “By all means. You may leave if you wish. It is a shame thou. The food I hold, far too much for myself to consume. It would be a delight if I had someone to share the frozen pig’s meat I have shushed away, plum pudding and buttered bread, still warm and soft from the oven.”

“You don’t play fair.”

He’s eyebrows rose in confusion. Her voice seemed far closer. Turning on his heels, he suddenly jerked back. While he rambled on, Esme had crossed back to solid land. Dripping wet and shivering. Her eyes narrowed, but hunger lurked within those pools of green. He just stood there. Staring at her in mere shock. She seemed so small and so fragile. “Madame…” He whispered, lifting up his hand, leading her back to his bedroom. “I do anything. But play.”

Wrapped within one of his Cloaks, Esme was sat upon the edge of the swan like bed, her fingers holding onto a wineglass, that held red liquid inside its glossy entrance. Her masked hosted, had left to fetch the food in which he spoke. She had to keep on her guard. He might come back and try to beat her. If so, she would simple remove her belt and hit him with it. The thorns could scratch him and while he cried and cursed about the pain, she could run. She nodded to her idea before she heard footsteps again. He held, what seemed to be an old messaged tray. She had forgotten what they were called. But placing it beside her, he did his best, not to touch, not even the wet fabric of her cloak or his own cloak that he had loan her to warm up in. In thought if he did, she would run. But she couldn’t blame him fully for his reaction. She most likely would have done the same thing.

Picking apart the bread, she slowly fed herself. Saving the taste of warm food that didn’t come in a soup liquid form. But ever now and then, she glanced up from under her lashes to see her masked host. Settled within a chair, a few feet before her. A wineglass clenched within his hand, his gaze watching her. Was he planning something? She should throw something in his face. It is in-polite to stare at someone while they eat. So rude! Shoving a bigger chuck of the bread into her mouth, she fed upon the cold meat and pie before she heard his voice. A whisper, dark and deep, echoes to her ears.

“So Madame. What brings you, to my humble home of darkness?” Gulping down what was in her mouth, she took a small sip of the wine, shivering from the strong attack it had on her tongue. But she shoved the taste aside, speaking out her answer. “I was being chased.”

“By who?” Rising his glass, he took a slow swallow of his wine, watching her frame over his glass. She seemed so much like a mouse. So shy, so quiet. She would bite him if given the chance. Stubbornness, Yet, in the back of his mind, an image of another young women played within his mind. “By three men. Two guards from my band and the Head Master that runs the carnival.” Erik’s browse forward in a glare. His knuckles flexed, his grip tightening a little more on his glass. “Go on…” She cast her eyes a side, her fingers playing a little with the cold meat upon her plate, before lowering her hands back to her sides. “I ran away from the carnival for I over heard them talking. They wanted to do thing to me, horrid things. And since my father is gone, no one would protect me. So, I packed all the things I had and ran. But they found out and chased me.” She rose her right hand, grabbing a red curl a little, her small form beginning to shiver. “I could hear their shouting and their feet. They seemed so close. I could hear them yelling. Cursing, promising to do such evil things to me once they gotten me. I had to run, but I didn’t know where to go. There was this window that was unlocked. I fell threw it you see and I must of blacked out. For when I woke up, I was in a strange room then I wondered deeper and somehow ended up here.”

Erik’s ears had shut out her words. So… She too was like him. Being chased down like an animal. It was long ago yes, but he too. Could hear the shouts of the angry mob of his childhood. His first murder. But there was a difference between his past and her own… Madame Giry helped him, she on the other hand. Only had herself. He should find these men that were chasing the young miss and kill them with his bare hands! Those crannies were all the same. Never showing true respect to women and children. Always thinking of lust and greed and how to fill that need. It sickened him to his very soul. Long since finished with his wine. He placed the empty glass down at his feet. “So, you have no where to go, yes?” Her white teeth bit upon her bottom lip, as her head gave a little nod. Erik thought, leaning his elbows upon his knees. His chin resting upon his fingers. Esme titled her head. Was he going to let her stay for the night? She smiled a little to herself in hope. She truly didn’t want to go back out there. Those men might still be looking for her. And by the way she was, dead tired and wet. She wouldn’t make it very far. But her thoughts were cut when Erik pushed himself to stand, “Come. I have a place in which, you may stay.” Esme’s eyes widen a little from the shock. But she pushed herself to stand and followed him anyhow in a limp. Would he trick her? At her state of mind, she hoped he wouldn’t.

~~~~~~~~~{@

“You may use this room.”

Erik swung the wooden door open, its metal hangers giving a loud groan from the pressure. Ruby followed inside. It was a large room indeed. Placed with more then 20 beds. It was like; a room made for an orphanage. “This is the old Ballad room.” He spoke, as if he were reading her very thoughts. “All the dancers slept here. But they all have moved out, so I don’t think they would mind if you stay.” Esmes eyes did narrow. The room was dark and the only light she had was the full moons and the little flame Erik held upon his candlestick. “There’s a chest filled with old nightwear. You may use that.” He watched as his red hair miss walked towards the dust-covered chest, which settle at the edge of one of the many beds. Placing the candleholder down upon the closest nightstand. He spoke again. “Do no leave this room. I shall come and fetch you in the morning.” Esme stared at him, questions lurking in her eyes. Why did he want her to stay in this room? Oh god. Was he going to lock her in? But He only took the handle of the door and whispered softly. “I don’t need you getting lost and braking something. Good night.” Turning his back to her, he made his way out, closing the door from behind.

“Wait!”

He jerked to a sudden stop. Glancing slowly over his shoulder. She had rushed to the door, holding it open a little with her right hand, peering at him threw the small gap between the door and its door frame. “Yes? Is there something you need?” She stared up at him, with her warm green eyes. Making him feel something strange deep within his cold chest. But what got him more, was when he heard her words and saw the gentle smile upon her lips. “You never told me your name.” His face did not give away his shock. No one ever asked for his name... Not even his own singer. She just called him ‘Angle Of Music’ and he played along… Should he say the same thing to her as well?

“Perhaps I should go first? Yes? I am Esme.”

Erik stared at her gentle face for a moment loner, before he replied. “For the time being. You may call me ‘Phantom.’ Good night.” Esme only gave a little chuckle. “How mysterious. But thank you, by and by. For letting me stay…” Giving a nod, he closed the door fully, making sure her hand had slipped away before doing so. Letting the knob go, stepping back from its embrace. He stood watching. Waiting. But for what? He didn’t know. Did he want the door to open and for her to come out to seek him? Or perhaps to make sure that she wouldn’t run away. Why would he care? Truly, why would he? This made no sense to him. Damnable women. She was messing with his thoughts and making him lose the grip of reality. Damn her. But a sudden rush of relief swam threw him. When he heard soft little pats slip threw the doorway. Like someone was brushing off one’s bed covers, the cracking of the wooden bed as a body slipped upon it and the sudden darkness threw the cracks of the door. As the only yellow light was blown away. He let himself smile then before turning to seek his own bed.

“What have I gone and done now.”
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Replaying Past