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Save Me From My Solitude	By : Pasque Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 2589 -:- 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
- 6
- 7
Well aren’t I naughty just abandoning this fic? Do forgive me but uni commitments got in my way, but now I’m free all summer, I really hope I get some reviews for this fic, enjoy people!

Chapter 7

There was silence in the room save for the sound of flames licking at the logs in the fireplace. Erik was staring with an inscrutable expression into the fire, his long fingers supporting his chin. Christine had lapsed into a sad reverie, gazing into the distance with eyes shiny with unshed tears. He turned to her slowly, after her confession she had drawn her legs up to her body and now sat huddled in a foetal position. He noticed how delicate she was, her entire form was dwarfed even by the chair in which she sat. That petite and beautiful form help a defect that was making her life as miserable as his own external defects had made his. Her fingers were entwined with one damp strand of coffee coloured hair, twirling it dreamlike around her index finger again and again.
“Would it have mattered to you?” she asked suddenly in a dreamy voice.
Erik looked up sharply. Before he could answer she interjected quickly, “You shouldn’t answer that, it doesn’t matter now.”
He stared at her thoughtfully before ignoring her last request, “Who would want another little me running around?”
She smiled sadly. “I would. I’ve always wanted a baby. I think perhaps, he shall leave me eventually. What should I do then, could I come and live with you?”
“He won’t leave you,” Erik told her wearily, forcefully refraining himself from dropping to his knees and begging her to stay with him forever. “It’s against his religion.”
“I’m sure the church will allow it,” she said bitterly. “They wouldn’t be so cruel as to bind him to a ba- a barren wife,” she choked out.
“Don’t say that,” he said, truly appalled.
“But it’s true. Perhaps if you had known that you would’ve been some other chorus girl’s angel,” she mused.
“Now you’re being ridiculous,” he said sharply. “My love for you has nothing to do with your reproductive organs,” he added snidely. “If you hadn’t married such a bloody idiot it wouldn’t matter to him either.”
“It’s not an unreasonable request of a wife though is it, to be able to bear a husband’s children.” Christine rose to her feet in anguish. “Erik what am I going to do?”
“Christine!” he shouted, standing and striding over to her. “Raoul was nearly strangled trying to win your love, do you honestly think he would not want to be with you just because of this?”
“Erik you don’t know him,” her temper matched his. “Neither did I at the time, he wouldn’t have given me a second glance if he’d known what he now knows.” She turned her back to him and covered her mouth with his hands. From her posture he guessed she was crying and stood helplessly watching her. “Christine,” he whispered. “Please don’t cry child, please.”
Sniffing and taking a deep breath, Christine wiped her eyes before turning to face him. An unnatural smile adorned her face, “I have made my peace with you as I intended, we are friends now are we not?”
“Yes, but-” he started confused.
“Well that’s fine then,” she interrupted. “Perhaps I can call on you again?” She offered him her hand.
He automatically took it and pressed his lips to her knuckles all the time protesting, “Christine wait don’t you want to talk about-”.
But she was already sweeping out of the room and towards the front door. She turned and offered a trembling smile to him, “Goodnight mon ange.”
“Christine it’s the middle of the night you cannot walk home on your own,” Erik said exasperated. He grabbed a cloak and followed her out of the door. “I shall escort you.”
She stopped and for a moment looked as if she were about to protest, but then relented and offered her arm to be entwined with his. Anytime she was escorted anywhere it was proper for her to take a gentleman’s arm, but it never occurred to her that this was the first time she had held Erik’s arm. He noticed. He noticed as he noticed everything about her. As they began the walk he felt her small fingers lightly gripping his forearm and relished the pressure.
It was obvious to him that she intended to act as though her small outburst had never happened. He was shocked to say the least, and saddened for her, she deserved contentment and here it had been cruelly snatched from her. But he was truly angry not at fate for dealing her a bad hand as it were, but at the boy. The boy to whom he relinquished his care of this fragile girl, the boy whom he entrusted to love her always. And at the first sign of any imperfection in the prefect doll, his affection had all but disappeared. Bloody noblemen. Look what they had turned her into, she was too well trained now to say what she felt, how miserable she was, without being ashamed of it and wanting to pretend it never happened. She was creating a perfect veneer to cover her imperfect life.
“Christine,” Erik began cautiously.
She smiled sweetly.
“Please do not upset yourself again, but please just know that you will always have a home with me, a place to go should you ever need it.”
Christine stared at him, she had expected him to curse her husband and her own stupidity in marrying a man she hardly knew, and she would not have blamed him. “Thank you,” she said softly, giving his firm arm a gentle squeeze of appreciation. “May I – may I come and see you again, tomorrow perhaps?” she asked hesitantly.
“Of course,” he said. “There will be a man there,” he began.
“Oh if you have company –” she said embarrassed.
“No, no,” he said quickly. “He is a friend of mine, he is coming to stay with me, his son is very ill. You would enjoy meeting him I’m sure, you’ll come?”
“If you’re sure I’m not imposing.”
“Of course not,” he reassured her. “I – I have missed you,” he ventured.
“I have missed you too. You do realise, I shall have to lie to Raoul.”
“That does not upset me.”
“No, no I rather felt it would not, I just wanted to make sure that you would not mention this to anybody.”
“No,” he sighed. “I shall not “get you into trouble” as you put it.
“Please, can we agree that neither of us shall mention Raoul, or my… my , uh, problem.”
“If it pleases you,” he said faintly. Goddammit woman just talk to me, I would not condemn you for your problem, you know that.
“Oh I am excited!” she squealed so suddenly that he had to laugh at her enthusiasm.
“Why are you excited my dear?”
“Oh because of you of course! You shall be my friend and I can have some one to talk to, it will be so wonderful!”
Erik could not bring himself to point out to her that companionship for her would be permanent torment for him, forced to witness everyday what he could not have for his own. How could he destroy such happiness after witnessing her anguish earlier?
“Do you go away a lot?” she asked worriedly.
“Away, why no, why should I?” he was surprised.
“I thought all men went away on business a lot,” she said careful to avoid her husband’s name.
“I suspect that depends upon the man, and the business.”
“So what do you do?” she asked giggling. “You have a large home, and expensive tastes I know, you must do something besides haunt to earn a living.”
“I do lots of things,” he said teasingly.
“Tell me,” she said petulantly.
“I build things.”
“You build things. Things like…”
“Things like buildings.”
“Oh really, must you be so exasperating? “
“I am an architect Christine; I design buildings, and occasionally help with their construction.”
She stared at him with awe, “Really?”
He laughed softly, “Yes really Christine, how did you think buildings were made?”
“Well I don’t know,” she pondered, “I suppose it makes sense.”
She seemed to be absorbing this information as they walked through the deserted streets of the town.
“You must think me very silly,” she said quietly.
“I certainly do not, why on earth would you think that?”
“Well, you are so… so clever! And I…. I believed you to be an angel… like a silly child believing in fairy tales.”
At her downcast expression Erik stopped walking and turned her to face him. “I never thought you were silly, I thought you were a very confused, very sad, and entirely too trusting child. And now… now you are very much grown up. It’s a shame, I had hoped… I had hoped you would have a very happy life, and I thought that by letting you go I was giving you that… how wrong I was,” he mused.
“Well…. I’m sure I could never be so clever as to design a whole building. Tell me, have you built anything I have seen.”
“Yes,” he said slowly. “The Opera House.”
Christine froze. “Our opera house?” she said incredulously.
“Yes,” Erik nodded. “The Garnier, Monsieur Garnier was a friend of mine at one time, we worked upon it together. Did you never wonder how I was able to move unseen around it, how I came to have a house under there?”
“Erik I… you built the opera house!” she was astounded. “It was the most beautiful building in the world. And then… oh Erik how could you have destroyed it?”
He shrugged. “I have a bad temper.”
“That is a considerable understatement.”
“Perhaps… but do not worry, it is restored in all it’s former glory now I can assure you, in fact it is more beautiful that ever.”
“What do you mean?” she paled.
“The restoration,” he repeated impatiently. “It was completed months ago.”
“No, there was to be no restoration.”
“Christine, wha-, what are you talking about my dear girl, the restoration plans were commissioned immediately after the fire, the work finished just months ago.”
“Oh… I see. I was informed otherwise.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the pair as they walked up the driveway towards the de Chagny mansion. “Why Christine?”
“What?” she said rather rudely.
“Why did your husband,” the title was still a hiss from his lips, “lie to you about the opera house?”
“I was going to return there. I was going to sing a requiem… for us. He told me that it was a ruin and too dangerous to enter, and would remain indefinitely in such a state.” Christine admitted, her cheeks flushing red.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said softly. “It’s not your fault. Even I hadn’t realised the full extend of the boys stupidity,” he added as an afterthought.
She smiled faintly and sighed. “What a mess I am in Angel, what a mess.”

There, sorry if that wasn’t too great, just building up though I promise. Please don’t forget to feed the author. Thank you.
- 6
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Save Me From My Solitude