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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
- 6
- 7
- 8
[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. ]

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Wiping the tears of laughter from her cheek. Esme pushed herself to stand. “Oh curse you.” She scolded childishly. “You chased off my new friends.” Erik was taken back at this, crossing his arms over his wrinkled shirt, his brows narrowing forward. “Well forgive me for ruining your pleasing moment but would you care to explain why the devil you were laughing so hard.” She glanced at him, a tender smile upon her pink lips. Every muscle in his body tightened when she moved closer. He still remembered the heat of her embrace, the softness of her breasts against his cheek. He feared if she came any closer, he would drag her into his arms and crush to her him. To feel her body against his own, her breasts pressing into his chest, her fingers curling into his shoulders to keep him close while he buried his face within the lock of red hair that merrier her head. His groin tightened painfully from the thought and fear grabbed him. He felt this way before…. It too ended badly.

But his little gypsy stopping only a few inches away, her hands rising to brush off his wrinkled shirt. “Oh, you can be such a grouch sometimes Phantom.” She chuckled; her fingers fixing the flipped collar around. Her body trembled as she tried not to touch his skin. The warmth she found made her knees weak and her felt so strange. Shame and guilt washed over her. She was being truly wicked. Having her body feel such things and her mind wonder with thoughts of exotic displays. Naughty indeed. Letting her fingers brush along his shoulders, she stared into those eyes. Was he too having troubles with his own body? Or was she the only one. His face showed nothing, making her eyes always glow with sadness. But she did note, how his jaw kept tightening, every time her fingers brushed along him. Perhaps, she was wrong.

Letting herself chuckle for something as meaningless to think, she went back to the task at hand. Without a second thought, she reached up to his face, she heard the sharp in take of breath, saw the tightening of his fingers on his arms. But she paid no mind to it. Brushing back the fallen locks of black hair, her fingertips softly touched the smooth surface of the mask, slowly moving it.

Erik’s eyes snapped wide when he felt the mask be moved. Rage sliced threw him. He begged her no to look just a few moments ago and she was braking his very soul to do it. Anger, pure anger flashed within his eyes but, before he could snatch her wrist, yank her hand away, and drag her back to his lair where he would punish her for her moral mistake. Her hand moved away, but empty. His mask was still laid on his face and his lips slowly parted. He was confused. But all his questions were answered when her soft voice rang out.

“There. Don’t want it slipping off and braking now do we?”

She had fixed his mask… Within the mix of his sleep the mask must have moved down, causing some of his scars skin to show. Why had he not noticed it? Or at least looked in the mirror before coming? Why? Why was he so careless?! He watched as Esme gave him one more smile, before walking past him to the very front of the stage. Where the chandelier rested. In that moment, guilt flooded his mind, when he found his answer.

He wanted to be by her.

He was use to waking up alone, within the darkness. But when he fell asleep within the warm arms of his gypsy, he wanted to wake, and see her shining face above him, watching him, greeting him with a tender look and gentle smiles. But when he woke to find his room empty and her figure no where to be found, despair filled him. For fear she had run away from him, for he refused to let her see what lingered behind the mask. He didn’t want her to see the beast that rested there. But seeing her gone, he jerked to his feet and ran, his heart racing madly to find Esme. To make sure she was still here.

With him.

But when he finally found her. His mind with at ease and his heart was filled with warmth once again. Before something new replaced it. From the shadows, he watched in mere wonder, as Esme sat and talked to the children. Children… He’s mind raced with thoughts as he listened to the warm laughter of her and the children. His mind dreaming thoughts he long ago forgotten. She would be a wonderful mother, sitting there with the two poor children, talking to them with the gentle tone, making him wish he were with them. She would make a wonderful mother. Perhaps, he would make a good farther.

In that moment pain shot threw him and he shock his head from the thoughts. No, he mustn’t think such things. Esme would never bare his children, nor did he want any. He couldn’t risk, having another little child end up like himself. The infection, eating away the poor innocent life. Esme would never want to hold such a fate. Even his own mother never took him after seeing what fate had bore for her child. She left him, alone and afraid in the world. Esme would do the same. But he still could not help but think what it would be like, if he were normal. If no scars or infections crippled his life. Would Esme love him? Would she be willing to be with him for the rest of his day? He chuckled softly to himself, as he repeated an old line within the shadows.

‘Anywhere she went… Would she let me go too?’

But a bit of happiness slipped within his heart, as he thought of a little boy, an image of his younger self. Scar free, with black hair, willing to run a muck and cause trouble for his tiring parents. Erik smiled. He could teach the lad how to write music, how to play instruments. How to run a theater, and bring this old home that was abandon back to life. Then a smile touched his face. Perhaps a little girl, with red curly hair, freckled nose and questions eyes. One he would lift up within his arms and twirl in the air, hearing her squeals of laughter and feel the warmth when she rain kisses on him when he brought her back down. Even the thought of seeing a little red headed girl, who looked like Esme, stand upon the stage side by side. Watching, as the mother started to teach his little girl how to dance, how to sing. Such a dream he longed for. Why was fate so cruel and forbid him from such a task? Touching his mask, his dreams were pushed back into the hollow space of his heart and the warmth he felt replaced by bitterness.

Shaking his head he turned around, to find Esme within the space where the musicians sat during every performance. She seemed to be digging for something… How very odd. “What are you doing?” He asked, standing by the edge of the stage, staring down at her, who was brushing by a few fallen chairs and burnt ashes. “Oh Phantom, look!” Like a child, who had found something they had never seen. Esme lifted up a violin. The strings were still there, as shocking as it was, but the wooden surface was badly burnt and cracked at her gentle touch. The slender neck that held the strings was too cracked but broken. He rose a questionable brow.

Esme traced the wooden frame, black ashes coating her skin. But she didn’t care. She found a violin, which was almost in good shape. “Oh Phantom.” She whispered, holding the instrument with such gentle care, she hugged it to her chest, holding it tenderly, not letting her embrace cause its body to crack and brake. “I take it, you like violins.” Erik hopped down from the stage, landing upon some of the glass crystal; his shoes cracking their smooth surface as he made he’s way slowly over to Esme. He smiled a little, seeing her hold something that was making her dress stain and ruin to happily, as if it were the only thing in the world at that moment she truly wanted. Jealousy shot up Erik’s spin, which caused him to frown. Why would he be jealous of a mere violin? Just because she was holding it and tracing the black neck slowly didn’t mean anything. But the emotion still rested within him.

She gave a soft chuckle. “Oh yes. I love them.” Erik reached over within the burnt ruble, brushing some away before finding a broken bow, in which was used for the violin. The horses hair hanging limp within the air as his hands held the snapped bow in two. “Do you know how to play?” Perhaps, she had another talent, since her singing wasn’t getting any better. “No.” Erik sighed. There goes another one. But she went on. “My father did thou. He had one that his father gave him when he was little and he played it ever since. He use to always take it up and play me a song every time I was sad or when he was in a good mood. My tent was always filled with music and laughter.” Erik heard a sniffle come from her and when he looked, she had wiped away a fallen tear. “Sometimes I miss those nights.”

Tossing the useless bow back in the ruble. Brushing his hands upon his lap to get rid of some of the ashes, he offered. “ If you want, I would teach you to play it. So you could remember.” It was a simple task he thought. He could teach her and when the time came for her to leave, she had a talent that would help her live. Pain hit him when he thought of her leaving. He didn’t want to think about that day. For he would be alone again, within his bitter world of darkness.

“You mean it?”

He turned his head, to stare into those green eyes that stared at him in bewilderment. Her face held longing and her fingers clanged to the violin, causing the frame the crack a little. He was a lost of words. For the first time he was speechless. With no words, he let his head nod, causing a squeal to ring out from her lips. “ I love you!” Her body surged towards his own, her arms wrapping around his neck, the violin rested behind his right shoulder, still within her grip. Her body molding into his own, her cheek pressing into his chest. He stood there in mere shock. His breathing gone; eyes widen. He couldn’t bring himself to wrap his arms around her waist and hold her. For her words still rang in his ears.

I love you

But the embrace ended to soon for she backed up and quickly made her way threw the open passage in the booth. “I’m going to go clean this up. That way I won’t get so dirty when I play it. But I need to find a bow. I’ll come back and fix the one you threw down. Oh! This is so wonderful! You’re the best Phantom, I’ll repay you for this, Truly I will.” She let out another squeal as she ran threw the passage, heading back to the room she used for the night. She was going to play an instrument her father played. She was going to learn the basic then play that song her father always played. She would remember him and play it every night. Tears stung her eyes, but not of sorrow but of over flooding joy. As she ran into the darkness of the passage. She didn’t glance back to Erik. Who still stood, shocked.

She only said it out of mere emotional shock. That was all. But why couldn’t Erik bring himself to accept it. His heart raced wildly. His body could not move. He heard the words he longed to hear his first singing say. The words he swore he would never utter again. The words that made him weak in his knees and almost bring him down. His fingers closed into a fist at his side, as he slowly leaned himself back, falling into an upright chair. Catching him, the metal groaning under he’s weight. She didn’t mean it in the way he longed for. He told himself. She didn’t mean it. But he slowly leaned he’s head back, letting out a deep sigh, letting he’s lung fill with air once again. Then why, he asked himself. If she didn’t mean it, why did he want to hear them again…?

I love you
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Replaying Past