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Emptiness	By : Josephine1881 Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Slash Views: 8257 -:- 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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Author's Note: An early present for you! Merry Christmas to you all!

Disclaimer: See Chapter One!

Chapter Forty-One

“You never cease to amaze me, Raoul,” Erik said, giving me an appreciative clap on the shoulder.

I beamed with pride. I had just told him about the conversation with Philippe, and, unlike my brother, Erik saw the amusing side of it.

“I can just imagine it,” Erik went on. “Your brother sitting at the table, staring after you as you leave. He’s probably still sitting there, waiting for you to come back and apologise.”

“That is possible,” I agreed. “But he’ll have to wait for a very long time. I have no reason to apologise. That is the nice thing about it. I didn’t even have to raise my voice, and still I managed to say what I wanted to say.”

“That,” Erik remarked. “Is the true art of having a conversation. Anyone can shout. Yet only those of us who are wise manage to bring their point across in a civilised manner.”

If possible, my smile grew even wider. Erik had called me wise. I liked it a lot. In order to enjoy the feeling a little longer, I didn’t respond straight away, but glanced out of the window at the trees as we passed them.

When I had gone to meet Erik at the opera, he had already been standing outside the side entrance in the street, next to one of the opera’s coaches. The day was so warm that an open carriage would have been more pleasant, but I could understand why Erik had chosen a coach instead. He didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that we were travelling together. Doubtlessly, the coachman would receive enough money to forget all about it.

We had only been travelling for a few minutes, just enough for me to finish my story. It would still take us at least half an hour to reach the house in which my sister Sophie and her husband Richard lived since their wedding. Personally, I suspected that Richard had only chosen a house that was so far away from Paris because the hustle and bustle of the noisy streets didn’t leave him the peace to think. Sophie didn’t mind having no close neighbours. While Richard worked, she read a good book or knitted clothes for the baby. My sister and her husband were a perfect match. I couldn’t imagine either of them with someone else.

I shared those insights into their family life with Erik. He nodded and smiled, but I couldn’t help thinking that he seemed preoccupied with something. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes looked worried. I felt a tiny thrill of pleasure that I was able to read his mood that well, yet it vanished quickly when I pondered on what was wrong with him.

“Would you rather have me stop?” I asked hesitantly. “Or would you prefer talking about something else?”

“No, no,” Erik replied with a little sigh. “It is quite all right...”

Even if I hadn’t known him well, I would have been able to tell that it was most certainly not all right. Yet strangely, the fact that he didn’t bother lying properly in order to disguise his feelings made me bolder to ask about them.

“Are you worried about meeting my sisters?” I wanted to know.

He nodded.

“I know it’s stupid,” he muttered. “We’ve talked about it before, and I agreed to meet them, so there is no point in worrying about it now.”

As a person who frequently worried about a lot of things, I found that statement rather peculiar. But then, Erik was not like me. He was used to making a decision and sticking with it.

“It’s still not too late,” I reminded him gently. “There’s a village a few miles down the road. If you want to, we can tell the driver to stop there. You could hire another coach and go back to Paris, and I’ll visit my sisters alone.”

Erik shook his head. For a masked, middle-aged man, it was remarkable how much he looked like a stubborn five-year-old.

“I know how much it means to you,” he told me quietly. “But that is just the problem.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. I couldn’t see any problem about it.

“Your sisters are the most important people in your life,” he began.

“Apart from you,” I interjected.

Erik acknowledged my remark with a nod, but the expression on his face was still grim.

“Indeed,” he said. “Think about it, Raoul. Doesn’t the situation seem somewhat familiar? You and I were the most important people in Christine’s life. We forced her to make a decision between us, and it broke her heart. What if your sisters don’t approve of me? What if it comes to making a decision between them and me?”

He gazed at me intently. I felt myself break out in a sweat. It was not a topic I wanted to think about. Not unless I had to, anyway. It still made me feel guilty to think about the decision Erik and I had forced Christine into. I had won, but I was honest enough to know that she had never been completely happy. The struggle for her heart had ripped it to pieces. Would the same happen to me?

“I’m sure my sisters will approve of you,” I muttered, but I could tell that my words held little comfort. “And if they don’t, I... I...”

“What will you do, Raoul?” Erik prompted. “Will you choose your sisters, who have been there for you for all your life? Or will you choose an ugly old man, whose clumsy touch is but a poor substitute for the love of a woman?”

“Stop it!” I hissed. The sudden sharp tone of my voice surprised me as much as it seemed to surprise him. “I will not listen to you insulting me any longer.”

“But I was not insulting you,” he mumbled.

“Oh yes, you were,” I contradicted him. “You insulted my love for you. I don’t love an ugly old man with a clumsy touch.”

“Well, you quite obviously do,” he said, gesturing at himself.

“I don’t,” I told him flatly. “Do you know who I love? I love a kind man. I love a patient man. I love a passionate man. I love a man who loves me just the way I am. I love you, Erik, and I always will. No matter what happens with my sisters. No matter what someone else might say.”

“Show me?” he asked in a small voice.

I nodded. A brief glance out of the window showed me that we still had miles and miles ahead of us before we’d reach my sister’s house. There would be nothing to disturb us. Quickly, I swung my leg over Erik’s lap, straddling him. His surprised smile changed into pure delight as I started kissing him. I poured all my love into the kiss. I knew how much it meant to him and also to me.

Yet I wanted to do more than just kiss him. Christine had kissed him, and still she had left. Instinctively, I knew that he needed more. I pushed my hips against his and felt the growing bulge in his trousers. I fervently wished that we had more time and more space, so we’d be able to make love, but it was just not possible. Still, there was something I could do.

I slid down his lap and onto the floor. There wasn’t much space between the two benches, but I managed to squeeze in between them. I could feel Erik’s curious gaze follow me. It was clear that he couldn’t make up his mind if I wanted to continue our romantic encounter or had simply dropped something onto the floor. Smiling up at him, I placed a hand on the bulge in his trousers, making my intention perfectly clear. He gasped.

“Raoul...” he breathed, his voice somewhere between incredulity and joy.

Nimbly, my fingers strolled upwards and opened his trousers. Once freed from his underwear, his manhood sprang forth. I gave it a loving kiss, eliciting another gasp from Erik. Smiling to myself, I began my task.

It didn’t often happen in my life, but sometimes, I managed to do the right thing at the right time. As soon as I started, I knew that I was indeed doing the right thing. I was proving to Erik that I loved him. I wasn’t stupid, though. I knew that there were a thousand other ways of proving myself to him. I also knew that under different circumstances, Erik would have neither needed nor demanded proof of my feelings. But just now, when he felt so desperately insecure, he needed it. He needed to feel my lips on his velvety skin, needed to feel his member in my mouth, needed to watch me giving him pleasure. He needed that act of selflessness on my part. It was the least I could do.

It was over much too soon. With a muffled cry, Erik found his release. I swallowed most of his seed, then I used my handkerchief to clean him and me. When I sat down next to him again, Erik rewarded me with a long kiss.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “That was wonderful.”

“I enjoyed it, too,” I assured him. “It was – “

I was interrupted abruptly as the door was pulled open and the coachman peered inside. Behind him, I could see my sister’s house. Thank goodness I was no longer crouching on the floor!
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Emptiness