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Forget Me Not	By : spikesbint Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > AU/AR Views: 12354 -:- 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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You alone
Forget me not 6

Christine had plenty of time to contemplate her new life on the carriage ride into Paris. Madame Giry had fallen asleep and Meg seemed lost in her own thoughts. The busy bustle of the streets was alien to her after the rural peace she had enjoyed on her husband’s estate. The smells, sights, and activity also brought back many deeply buried memories. She let her mind drift off to those last few months at the opera house…when she had been under Erik’s tutelage and thrall, for want of a better word.

He had seemed so dark and mysterious; filling her senses from the moment she had took his hand and allowed him to lead her down to his domain. Christine remembered the excitement she had felt at his touch…as he had held her to him, tightly. She had been totally defenceless, as he had run his gloved hands up and down her body. His whispered words…let your darker side give in…she shivered in remembrance. Those words spoken so long ago sounded as sensual now as they had back then. She had wanted to give in, but she had not understood the wild racing of her blood or the heat he had aroused in her.

The carriage was no longer moving and the footman was holding open the door, looking at the occupants expectantly as he lowered the step. He held out a hand to assist her from the carriage. Christine looked around her. Little had changed since she had last lived here. Meg scrambled from the carriage, seemingly eager to reach her front doorstep. Christine soon noticed the reason for her haste as she spotted a huge bouquet of red roses. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest…were they from Erik? She wondered.

Madame Giry stood by Christine, a slight frown of disapproval on her face as she looked at the rich luxuriant flowers. Meg bent down and read the card.

“Thirteen red roses for thirteen long years, ED…Oh I think they might be for you Christine,” flushed Meg. She handed the card to her.

Christine looked down at the small white rectangle of pasteboard. His strong fluent strokes dominated it; much like his presence dominated her. She touched the words with her gloved hand before carefully placing it within her reticule. Meg turned away to lift up the terracotta flowerpot, retrieving her key.

“That is a bit foolhardy of you Meg,” scolded her mother.

“I have nothing worth taking mother, except maybe my virtue,” She grinned as she opened the door and waited for Christine to follow her. “And that’s already taken,” she whispered to a shocked Christine as she passed her in the hall.

The apartment was situated on the first floor, it was cheery and bright and lifted Christine’s flagging spirits a little. She turned to see Madame Giry cradling her roses in her arms.

Madame Giry held them out to Christine. “You forgot your roses…flowers are like people, they wither and die without love and attention. Take good care of them Christine,”

Christine took the flowers from her and looked at them. She looked back at Madame Giry, and nodded, understanding the unspoken message in her eyes. Her thoughts turned to Erik. It was hard to imagine him as vulnerable and needing of love…but he was a man. He lived and breathed, he laughed and he cried like anyone else. Christine sat down on the nearest chair and stroked the soft petals. Where would all these feelings between her and Erik lead? Was she ready to let another man into her heart so soon? Society would surely condemn her for it. She wished she could be more like the man who had given her so much. Erik lived by his own set of rules. Popular opinion had never troubled him.

Meg saw the pensive look in her friend’s eyes; she took the blooms from her unresisting fingers and walked out of the room in search of a vase. Christine sagged down lower in the chair. The sting of tears threatened to spill into a flood as the enormity of her changed circumstances hit her once more. Madame Giry saw her face crumple and went to her side and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“There Christine, it will get better I promise you,” she soothed.

Christine wiped away her tears. “Take no notice of me Mother Giry. It’s been a chaotic few days that’s all,”

“Let me fetch you some tea,” said Madame Giry “The English swear by it,”

Christine could not help but respond to the older woman’s teasing as a slow smile spread across her face. “Thank you, that would be nice,”

Almost two hours had passed until Madame Giry was content that Christine was settled, before taking her leave and making her way back to the opera house dorms.

Meg had closed the door on her mother and turned around to look at Christine. “Alone at last, now what would you like to do on your first night of freedom?” Meg instantly groaned aloud. “Oh Christine…I did not mean…”

“Please don’t walk around on eggshells for my benefit Meg. I understood your meaning. I for one am all done in. I think an early night is on the cards for me,”

There was a knock at the door. Christine’s eyes lit up before she could hide her reaction. It was not unnoticed by Meg. She got up from the sofa and disappeared downstairs. Christine dared not move. She heard the door open and the unmistakable tone of a male voice. Had Erik come to visit? Finally gathering her senses, Christine got up from the chair and walked over to the mirror that hung on the wall. She checked her reflection, instantly annoyed with herself. Why should she care what she looked like or what Erik thought on the subject for that matter? She asked herself angrily. Still she could not resist tucking a stray curl that had escaped its pins, behind her ear.

Christine turned automatically as she heard the approaching footsteps. She felt lancing disappointment as she was met by a mischievous pair of blue eyes that belonged to no other than Luc Firmin. She had met the young man on several occasions on her rare visits to the opera house with her husband. He held out a hand to Christine and she took it, pressing her fingers to his in greeting. He was handsome enough, although where he had gotten his good looks puzzled Christine as she could see no more than a passing resemblance to his father.

“Good day Luc,”

“Good day Vicomtess…I was sorry to hear of your…um loss,”

“Thank you,” she replied quietly.

He turned his attention back to Meg. “I have come to take you out to dinner in celebration of your return,” he announced.

“I could not dream of it Luc. It’s Christine’s first day here, I cannot leave her,”

Christine held up a hand in protest. “Please do not make such a fuss on my account. I am well able to endure an evening alone. In fact, I would welcome it. I am not much up for company at the moment,”

“See, if Christi…I mean the Vicomtess does not mind, then what can be your objection?”

“Luc, please call me Christine. I am not strictly a Vicomtess anymore, and it makes me feel about ninety,” sighed Christine. No, she was not anything anymore, not even someone’s wife. She told herself resolutely.

“I don’t want to leave you, it wouldn’t be fair,”

“I cannot take this anymore! All this concern…you are killing me with kindness!” cried Christine as she ran from the room.

Meg followed her out into the hallway, taking her arm, as she would have run blindly down the stairs.

“Christine!”

“I am sorry for what I said Meg, but I feel so suffocated. Go to dinner with your young man, I will be fine for a few hours. I am not an infant!” pouted Christine.

“Then stop behaving like one and come back in the sitting room,” replied Meg, one of her blonde eyebrows arched at her. “I have a dinner date to get ready for,”

Christine smiled at her friend gratefully as she followed her back into the room. She flushed guiltily as she looked at Luc, before taking her place on the sofa once more.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As night settled over one of the most romantic cities in the world, Christine had never felt more alone than she did tonight. She watched from the window as Meg waved up to her before getting into the hired carriage with Luc. She replaced the curtain and walked aimlessly around the room. She had wished for solitude earlier, but now faced with it she was not so sure.

Christine walked to the bedroom and slowly removed her clothing and changing into her night rail. She had just belted her dressing gown around her waist when she heard the doorbell. She frowned, before her face cleared. Meg must have forgotten something. Christine left the bedroom and hurried downstairs. She flung the door open.

“Oh Meg, trust you to forget…Oh!” the words died on her lips as she saw the dark figure standing on the doorstep. His features were in shadow, but she was left in no doubt who it was.

“Do you always answer the door dressed only in your night garments?” Erik drawled.

He stepped forward into the hallway. Christine pulled the edges of her dressing gown around her more tightly, suddenly feeling naked under that piercing gaze.

“No, I mean not that it’s any business of yours!” She snapped defensively before turning and walking back up the stairs. Hearing the door closing, she turned briefly afraid that he had left. He was so close behind her that she almost collided with him. He held on to her to stop her from stumbling. Christine flinched as if she had been burned as his strong hands made contact with the bare skin of her forearms. She should ask him to leave, but in her heart of hearts, she knew she did not want to.

Christine turned up the kerosene lamps in the sitting room, finding the soft light altogether too intimate for her peace of mind. Erik removed his gloves and laid them on the small table by the sofa before taking a seat. Meg’s spacious apartment somehow seemed to shrink in size with his dominating presence.

“Come and sit down Christine,” he patted the seat next to him. “I do not bite,”

Christine flushed as her mind wandered to a place it had no business in going. Erik seemed to be able to conjure the most sinful images in her mind with just a few innocently spoken words. When she deliberately sat in the chair opposite him, he could not help the wry laugh that escaped his lips..

“You are suffering from a distinct lack of curiosity for the reason of my visit. Unless you are used to entertaining men half dressed and at such an hour?” He glanced at the dresser. “I see you got my welcome gift,”

At a loss to say anything else, she took retreat in small talk. “Yes, they were lovely…thank you,” She glanced at the roses standing in the vase on the dresser, their heady scent filling the room and overpowering her much like the man seated a few feet away from her.

The mantle clock ticked in the silence of the room as he continued to stare at her. Christine could look no higher than his snowy white shirt, which was a mistake she regretted as she could see the pulse that beat a steady rhythm in the strong column of his throat.

“Erik…” her voice came out in a breathy whisper as she raised her eyes to him.

“Yes?”

“I want you to teach me…to sing again,” she finished hurriedly before she totally lost her nerve.

Erik smiled a slow smile as he looked back at her. “For a moment there I thought you were going to ask something entirely different altogether my sweet,” he said mockingly.

She blushed anew at his words.

“Please Erik, it’s been so long since I sang. I have an audition tomorrow with Andre and Firmin. I need this chance…so badly..” her breath caught on a sob.

Erik looked at her pleading face and he was filled with a deep regret for his actions. It was short lived, now that he had her back in his life he needed to be able to see her and be with her. Thirteen years had passed. How many more could they afford to waste in wondering what might have been? Besides he had been in Paris long enough, his presence would be required back in New York. She would thank him for it eventually, wouldn’t she.

Erik stood up and removed his cape, draping it over the arm of the chair. He held out a hand to her and she took it.

“Very well, I will help you. Not much can be done in a single evening, but we can at least practice your scales. I want to see what thirteen years of neglect has done to such a beautiful instrument. Sing for me something that will not strain your vocal chords too much. It will have to be without music, I would have brought my violin if I had known that was how I was to be spending my evening,” he sighed a little ruefully. “Best to start with what you know…hmm the aria from Hannibal…think of me,”

Christine took a breath and tried to remember her posture as she began to sing. Erik stood in a darkened corner across the room watching her silently. His arms folded across his chest. She was unable to read his expression as his face was hidden by shadow. She was through the first line of the second verse when he held up his hand.

“Please stop Madame. My poor ears cannot take any more abuse!”

Christine closed her mouth, her cheeks burned with mortification and she felt tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. “I know I am a little out of practice but…”

Erik shook his head slowly. “The fault is not yours, but your husband for caging such an exotic bird. Your wings have been clipped Christine, but you will fly again…with my guidance,”

“Do not speak of Raoul in that way…he was a wonderful and loving husband and he…”

“Bored you to tears Christine!” Erik finished vehemently.

“How dare you!” Christine cried, shocked more at herself as his words struck a chord of truth within her. She automatically raised her hand to slap him, but he caught it easily.

“I let you get away with that when we met again because I deserved it. Do not try my patience further on the matter,”

Christine struggled against his harsh grip, before he released her hand. “This is not going to work. I think you should leave, any gentleman would,”

“But I never claimed to be one. Enough of this childishness, when I saw you that night at your home I had hoped you had grown up a little. It seems that Raoul has kept you a child,” he replied insultingly. “Now again from the beginning,”

Christine was too stunned to protest as he came up behind her, straightened her shoulders, and rested his hands on her abdomen. She finally found her voice and made a sound of disapproval.

“Calm down Christine. I am making sure that your abdominals are relaxed. If I had something else in mind you would know about it,” he whispered in her ear. His warm breath did nothing to control the wild beating of her heart. “Sing for me,”

Christine closed her eyes and began to sing. After the first couple of verses, she felt herself start to relax in his arms and her voice instantly sounded much better. She cursed Erik for being right, why did he always have to be right? She thought angrily. She decided to pour all her passion into her music and as the last note rang out, silence descended on the room.

Christine did not move, waiting for his response or at least his ridicule, but as the minutes passed, none came and still he did not release his hold on her.

“Erik?” she asked uncertainly.

He took her hand and turned her around in his arms. There was a suspicious wetness, which coated his eyelashes. He looked into her eyes and she gasped aloud at the desire and longing she read in them.

“Oh Christine…” he spoke her name on a sigh.

Christine smiled at him. She was tired of always fighting this man when all she wanted was for him to hold her, propriety be damned. She had loved her husband, but it was like comparing the sun to the moon when he touched her, she knew that now.

“Yes…Erik…Yes,” she replied to the plea in his voice. Christine could not deny him anymore or herself for that matter.

“Yes what Christine? I need to hear you say it…say the words. Tell me what you want,”

Christine looked away. “I don’t think I can,”

Erik placed a finger under her chin. “There is no shame in wanting another person no matter what your religion teaches you. I will not lie to you Christine, there have been others, but not for a long time and no one that I cared about…ever. I have never allowed anyone to kiss me, but you. My kisses belong to you alone. You are what I live and breathe for, tell me I mean just a fraction of what you mean to me and I would die a happy man right now,”

Her heart broke anew for the emptiness and loneliness he must have borne these past thirteen years, and if she were honest with herself maybe his whole existence. He needed this, her total surrender. Only then could he be free of the darkness that surrounded his heart. She held out a hand to him and he took it.

Her eyes never broke contact with his as she smiled at him. “Make love to me Erik,”

He pulled her to him in a tight embrace, so tight that she could scarce draw breath. Christine’s hands touched his face, her fingers wandering to the edge of his mask.

“No,” he said firmly, as he took ahold of her questing fingers.

“There is nothing to fear,” she told him earnestly.

“But there is for me. I don’t want you to stop looking at me as you are looking now…”

Christine’s eyes glistened with tears. “Take it off,” She placed a soft kiss on his hand that held her own so tightly.

Erik took a deep breath, unable to deny her anything. “Very well,” he said with deep resignation. He tore the mask from his face, almost savagely, tossing it onto a nearby chair. “Now tell me you still want me to lead you into that bedroom and take you,”

“No,” Christine saw the pain in his eyes, thinking she was refusing him. She quickly took his hand. “Instead I will lead you, nothing has changed…make love to me Erik,”

He bent his head to kiss her lips, in a slow burning kiss that travelled to the pit of her stomach and lower. She felt the wetness of tears on her cheeks no longer sure to whom they belonged. She had been waiting for this for thirteen years and she had finally awoken just as he had predicted she would.

TBC
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Forget Me Not