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The Waiting Unknown	By : Shmlss Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 2440 -:- 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
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Chapter 6: Of Scars and Understanding
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He stared at her for a moment before blinking emphatically.
“Monfrié?”
“Oui. I am the manager’s daughter.” She looked down at the floor when he did not take her hand.
“Forgive me, Mon cher. That was unexpected.” He grabbed up her hand and stood before bowing to kiss her small knuckles.
Emilie blushed lightly.
“May I ask you something?”
“I believe there are many things you would like to ask me.” He said calmly, nodding for her to continue.
“Well… how are you still alive and so young? And why-“
“One question at a time would suffice.” He said warningly.
She nodded simply.
“I am cursed to disfigurement and eternal life,” He paused and said more quietly, “Damnation at its finest.”
Not particularly wanting to continue treading on the subject, she opened her mouth to enquire more before he stopped her, getting to his feet.
“I have something you may be more comfortable in…”
“Wait. I-“ Her hand moved up and toward his face, but he darted away from her.
He stepped up into another room and disappeared for a moment.
When he returned, a long white nightgown draped over his arm. He offered it to Emilie.
She laughed lightly. “Monsieur, I could not…”
“I insist on it.” His tone did not indicate irritation, and more implied that he asked her.
She took it and held it delicately in her hands as though it would fall apart if she weren’t as gentle.
“You can change in the other room.” He pointed across the room from them, where he had gone to get the garment.
“I will not likely be able to get out of this corset on my own…” She turned her back to him and pulled her hair up, allowing him to unzip the dress.
He nervously released the zipper just in time for her to whip around to face him again.
“If… I were to show you something, would you let me see your face?”
“My face is not something to be bargained for. I assure you, it is not something you want to see.”
Her eyes bore into his quite solemnly. She wanted him to trust her.
“Very well, but if you go leaping into the water and swimming away I am not to be held accountable.”
Emilie giggled. “Do you not ask trust of others?”
“I do.”
“Then I ask that you trust me…” She smiled and turned once again, with her back facing him, removing the top part of the dress.
When she did, she revealed to him only half of a very large scar on her back. It reached from the very top of her shoulder to the small of her back on the right side.
Erik’s eyebrows furrowed together and he reached out to touch her. He decided better against it and went straight to the lacing of her corset.
“What... happened?” It was his turn to ask questions.
She smiled bitterly and thought of her father. “My mother burned me badly when I was 9.”
He was really at a loss of words. How uncharacteristic. He was permanently scarred, as well, but as a birth defect and something that could not be helped. But this- this was intentional and done by someone every child should trust in his or her life. He became easily confused. He wanted to touch it- touch her, he wanted to cry, he wanted to shout. But he did none. He quietly unlaced her corset, following the scar down the entire right side of her back.
Once he had unlaced her, he was surprised to see her slip the entire ensemble off, leaving her bare-skinned with naught but white frilled bloomers.
Erik’s body involuntarily tensed at the site of her. Even with the scar across her back, she was one of the most beautiful things he had seen in his entire lifetime. She covered her breasts with one arm as she skillfully pulled the gown over her head.
The garment was rather snug around her chest and hips, but it was, afterall, made for Christine, who was quite petite.
Erik remembered his forbidden night with Christine. She was 22 then, and was aging well for a woman of her time. She did not look a day over 16. Almost a replica of what she looked like the day she left him, the exception being deeper laugh lines.
She came, asking to wear something he had made her. He found her request and behaviour slightly off, but he complied. He would do anything for her, of course. He undressed her, as she claimed to be too weak from the journey to get there. She took the golden opportunity to seduce him once he had undressed her.
“Thank you, Mons- Erik.” She turned, exposing more of her breasts than he had intended with allowing her to wear the gown. “Now, you will be fulfilling your end of the deal, won’t you?”
It was now that he became terrified. He had lost Christine. He did not want to lose Emilie. She was straight from the heavens and he was demonic, spawn of the devil himself.
“I cannot allow it.”
“Please do not hide from me.” She sang to him with a smile shining on her face.
“Please do not ask to see.” He sang back.
“Let me show you…”

“Show me what? What exactly?”
“Let me show you who you are.”
“No.”
Boldly, she walked forward and reached for his mask once more. This time, he caught her wrist firmly in his hand, pulling her as close as they could be without being intimate.
She pleaded with her eyes. She brought no controversy or melodrama, only curiosity and a desire to truly know him inside and out. This man had made her dream come true. There was nothing so horrible to keep her gratitude from him.
“Erik…”
He frowned prominently and released her from his desperate grasp.
Now her only true worry was that he would be angry with her if she did take it off. She overcame it and grabbed an edge, pulling it away from his face.
How horribly marred his skin was! But she found no desire to scream. Instead, tears welled up in her eyes and she, very cautiously, touched her fingertips to the scarring. She was not even looking at it, but instead looking in his eyes as she felt his bane with her soft, white palm.
Something in his heart urged him closer to her and by the time he figured out what his subconscious was having him act, it was too late.
He pressed his lips against hers urgently, but chastely. To his great surprise she responded positively to the kiss, leaning back into it.
Erik pulled back subtly staring down into glazed-over green eyes.
“It is not just because I understand the pain of being scarred. If I were completely unmarked I would still know your beauty through your deform.” She was sincere as she spoke to him through her words and her eyes before showing him with her mouth, delving into another kiss.
This was different, now they were open-mouthed and somewhat teasing before their tongues lazily dueled. Emilie grabbed the collar of his shirt with both hands and pulled him as she came back against a wall.
“Mon… cher….” Erik pulled away from her, on the verge of breathlessness.
“What’s wrong?”
“I believe it is time you get back. Surely someone will be suspicious now, and you need your rest.”
She nodded, feeling neither rejected, nor accepted and left him there, quietly.
All the way back she wondered if she should defy him. If it was simply more important for her to turn back and prove she wasn’t really going to leave him. But, also, she wondered if it was right to go back. After all, it was he who made her spotlight possible.
- 6
- 7
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The Waiting Unknown