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Paris' Song	By : Hilary Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 7620 -:- 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
- 7
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- 9
A/N: Here you go, the next chapter. Enjoy ^_~. Also, only Paris and Madame Blanche belong to me. Everyone else belongs to Gaston Leroux.

Christmas was a spectacle at Paris' flat that year. Erik had surprised her by purchasing a Christmas tree and setting it up in her living room one morning. He had had to sneak into both the Christmas tree lot to purchase the tree undetected by anyone and into Paris' flat without alerting the neighbors that he was in the building. He never came into the building through the front door and so Paris had had to explain that he did come through the door but only very late at night and very early in the morning when everyone was still asleep. He was eccentric like that she had told Madame Blanche when the lady had questioned Paris about Erik's odd behavior and why the poor woman had never seen this mysterious man.

So Paris and Erik decorated the Christmas tree with the ornaments that Paris had taken from her parents' house when she had run away as well as the ones that she had purchased here in Paris. Erik had even purchased a couple for her and had shyly handed them to her when she had been stringing popcorn strands around the tree. She had grinned happily and kissed Erik's scarred cheek and then had proceeded to find places for the new ornaments to hang.

After Erik had shown Paris his deformed face things between them had become much freer. Not to say that things had been distant before but Erik didn't feel so worried about what Paris would do when she saw his face. Because she had accepted him, face and all, he had felt a strange stirring in his heart. He didn't know what it was but he knew that if Paris ever left him he would not be able to cope. She had become his life line just as he suspected he had become hers. In fact ever since he had shown Paris his face she had forced him to keep his mask off between the times after Paris finished her dance exercises and when he left for the evening. He had tried to protest at first but Paris always sat next to him on the couch and would take his mask off of him and place the mask on her right side out of Erik's reach. She would then grab his right hand and hold it tightly while she read a book. Erik had tried a couple of times to get the mask back but every time he reached across her to get it she whacked his hand sharply with her book. Several attempts and many sore knuckles later Erik had finally learned his lesson and given up.

So now he just accepted the fact that Paris preferred to see his face without the mask and he had just followed her wishes. However, there were times when he heard footsteps out in the hallway and he would panic. He would quickly sign to Paris that someone was coming and she would give him his mask and he would hide in the shadows until the coast was clear. He still couldn't figure out how she knew when he was lying about there being someone out in the hall on the few times he tried to trick her into giving him his mask back. He could only guess that she felt the vibrations of their feet and whenever there wasn't someone she didn't feel the vibrations and could tell that he was lying.

Now they were stringing more popcorn onto thread in order to make more popcorn strings. Paris grinned as once again Erik ate the popcorn he was supposed to be stringing. He seemed to eat more popcorn than string it. Paris just shook her head and reached for some popcorn. Erik was like a kid. He had never had a real Christmas he had told her. His mother couldn't stand the sight of him and so had never celebrated it around him. After he had run away the years had just come and gone and he had never paid attention to the holidays. Now with Paris in his life he felt needed and cared about and he had decided that this year he would celebrate Christmas. Of course, Paris had silently laughed, Erik only remembered that it was Christmas time because Paris hadn't stopped signing about it. Paris went shopping every Saturday since that was the only time she could go without Erik around. Madame Blanche had stopped coming now that Paris was pretty much healed and Paris had sewn a baby blanket for the woman when Paris had learned that Madame Blanche was going to have another baby. Now Paris just had to make sure that Erik didn't accidentally find his presents. With the way he had been behaving she was surprised he wasn't begging her to tell him or sneaking around the flat trying to locate their hiding place.

After the last string of popcorn was finished, no thanks to Erik who had finally given up stringing to just eat the popcorn, Paris had Erik wrap the string around the top of the tree. They stood back and admired the Christmas tree for a moment before Erik signed that he had one more thing to add and rushed off for a minute. When he returned he had a box in his hands which he handed to Paris, his face full of nervousness and happiness. Glancing up at Erik for a moment Paris took the box and carefully opened it.

Inside was a beautiful Christmas Angel to place on top of the tree. It was dressed all in white and gold with silver wings painted and shimmering with glitter. The halo was made of gold wire. The angel's arms were open as if beckoning everyone to come towards her. Her face was hand painted with large grey blue eyes and shoulder length black hair. Her cheeks had a touch of pink and her lips were red and curving up into a small smile. Paris looked up at Erik in awe, tears of happiness filling her eyes.

"I had her made especially for you. I-I had her made to look like you. You have been my savior angel for quite some time now and I just thought this way you would always remain that way, an angel I mean," Erik explained nervously as he gave a lopsided grin.

Paris set the box down and rushed at Erik flinging her arms tightly around him in a hug. Her tears flowed freely down her cheeks now as Erik gathered her close against him. She heard him whisper "Merry Christmas, Paris," softly in her ear despite the fact that he knew she couldn't hear him. Paris wished more than ever that she didn't have to keep pretending that she was deaf and mute but she didn't think Erik would take too kindly to the fact that when he had confessed some rather heartfelt and even foolish things to her aloud believing she couldn't hear them she had in fact heard them.

When Paris had calmed down she disengaged herself from Erik and signed "Thank you, Erik" to him and then took the angel and had him place it carefully on top of the tree. They both stood back and smiled up at their finished tree, a feeling of comfort and warmth surrounding them.

Christmas day dawned bright and early for them. It had snowed the night before so the city was covered in a beautiful blanket of white. Paris had allowed Erik to stay the night for the first time since the accident. Erik had slept on the couch. Paris woke bright and early that morning and pulled on her robe before tiptoeing out into the living room. Erik slept peacefully on the couch beneath a thick quilt that Paris had made a couple of years ago. As Paris stared down at him she noticed that if one looked past the scars on the right side of his face he was really quite an attractive man. She knew he wasn't all that old, in his mid-thirties he had told her with a grin when Paris had asked one day. His hair was long and usually pulled back at the base of his neck with a black ribbon. She loved to run her hands through the long strands whenever she pulled the ribbon off. His hair was always so silky soft; she often wondered how he got it that way. This morning his hair was not pulled back and fanned around his head on the borrowed pillow. She also loved how his bangs were always falling into his eyes so she always had an excuse to push it out of them. She had never known a man with such thick lashes like Erik's. She knew if her own weren't as thick as they were she would probably envy Erik for his. She was also rather fond of his mouth. His lips weren't too thin nor were they too thick. His upper lip was slightly thinner than his lower lip which was full and ‘kissable' as she liked to call it. Granted she had never actually kissed Erik on the mouth but every time she looked at his mouth she would imagine what it would be like.

Smiling softly Paris gently brushed Erik's bangs out of his face and looked at his unmasked face. His jaw was still strong and square even in sleep. She remembered that her father's jaw was strong when he was awake but when he went to sleep it rounded out as it relaxed. She had never liked that, it just showed that her father was a weak man inside and out. Paris gently traced a finger tip along Erik's jaw and she watched as it tightened beneath her touch. With a silent sigh Paris stepped back from Erik's sleeping form as he shifted in his sleep which caused the quilt to slip off of him down to his waist.

Paris stared at his body now revealed by the quilt. He had removed his jacket and vest to sleep and now he slept in only his black trousers, which were hidden by the quilt, and white dress shirt. His shoulders were impossibly wide and he had to scrunch up on the couch in order to fit. She knew he wasn't built like one of those muscle men that she had seen in fairs the few times she had been to them but she knew Erik was well endowed with them. After all the numerous hugs they had given each other she should know. His chest was broad and strong and she knew that his stomach was flat and hard. He worked out some how, she thought. She loved how long his legs were and she liked how she could wrap her arms around Erik completely due to the fact that his waist narrowed down into slim hips. However, it was his feet that attracted Paris so much. His ankles were slender for a man's and his feet long and angular with long toes that went down in a perfect slant.

Erik had teased her when she had made a comment about liking his feet. He had told her that he liked her feet too, blisters and all. Paris had hit him with a pillow for that comment and had signed agitatedly at him that she did not have blisters on her feet anymore. They had healed and her feet had hardened after so much dancing so now they were callused where she danced on them. Erik had then grabbed her feet and pulled her stockings off and examined her bare feet. He had then proceeded to tickle them which had sent Paris into a silent fit of laughing. When Erik had discovered that Paris still wouldn't make a sound even while being tickled he had given up and just massaged her feet. Paris had been in heaven after that and had returned the favor by massaging Erik's shoulders and neck.

Paris grinned when she saw one of Erik's feet sticking out from underneath the quilt and carefully began to play ‘This Little Piggy' with them. Erik woke up when she reached the last toe and tickled up his body while mouthing, "And this little piggy went ‘wee, wee, wee' all the way home." Erik, startled out of sleep by the tickling sensation that raced up his ribs, fell off the couch with a bark of laughter. He curled up into a ball as he tried to escape Paris' wiggling fingers.

"Merry Christmas, Erik!" Paris signed when she stopped tickling him.

"Merry Christmas, Paris," Erik answered with a smile as he slowly regained his breath.

After that Paris rushed over to the Christmas tree and began to dig through the presents. Erik folded the quilt and draped it over the back of the couch before he ran a hand through his hair and yawned. It was defiantly too early for him to be up. Getting up so early for the past five months had not been something he planned on doing for much longer. It was getting harder and harder to roll out of bed at six in the morning just to get over to Paris' flat by seven. However, looking over at Paris as she gleefully dug through the presents, Erik knew that he wouldn't have changed anything if he could do it all over again. Well, maybe he would do the chandelier bit over again but this time he wouldn't cut the cables. He still couldn't completely forgive himself for that.

Paris looked over at him just then and her smiling face brought him over help her investigate what "Santa Claus" had brought. His first Christmas and Paris was making it the most wonderful thing that he had ever had in a long time.

The presents were opened and Paris and Erik marveled at them. Erik had given Paris a beautiful emerald green gown that showed off her petite figure flatteringly. He had also given her new pair of toe shoes, black silk ones. Paris had had tears in her eyes when she saw them. She had also received a beautifully crafted music box that Erik said he had made for her. It played one of his own compositions that she had inspired. Erik had panicked when Paris had opened the music box for he had suddenly remembered that she was deaf and wouldn't be able to hear it. However, Paris had just smiled and told him that if he showed her the sheet music for the piece then she would be able to hear the notes in her mind. She still remembered what the notes sounded like even after being deaf for so many years. Erik had breathed better after that and had smiled at Paris with gratitude. The rest of the gifts Erik had given her were small but still treasured by the young dancer.

Paris had had a hard time finding gifts for Erik. She had made him a quilt of beautiful shades of blue, grey and black. In one corner she had made a mask similar to Erik's, a music staff with music notes on it and lastly a beautiful blue rose. Erik had just held the quilt in his hands as if it was the most fragile thing he had ever held. He had then wrapped Paris up in it and pulled her into his lap with a laugh when she wriggled around trying to playfully escape. She had also gotten him a beautiful new pocket watch with his name engraved on the front and a beautiful picture of the city of Paris in the face of the watch. Paris had teasingly told him that the city was almost as beautiful as her. To her surprise Erik had looked deep into her eyes and told her that nothing was as beautiful as her. Paris had blushed and quickly changed the subject by putting another gift in his lap. Erik had smiled knowingly but had said nothing.

The next gift he had opened had been a large stack of high quality music paper, a boxful of red ink and another boxful of quill pens. Erik had looked at it in shock before he had looked up at Paris and grinned as he thanked her. Like Paris' the rest of Erik's gifts were small but meaningful to him.

Once all the presents had been opened Paris went into the kitchen to make breakfast while Erik began to clean up the living room. They ate in a comfortable silence once breakfast was ready. They cleaned the dishes without making a mess though Erik had to grin when he remembered that day. It had been the first time he had had fun like that and after that day he had tried to have fun with Paris like that numerous times. Christine had never tried to join in, even when Paris had encouraged her to do so. Christine had always looked warily at Erik and shaken her head. Erik frowned as his thoughts strayed to Christine. He hadn't thought about her since the accident. He cast a glance at Paris. He had heard at the Opera House that Christine was returning. He wondered if Paris knew about that. Shaking his head to rid him of those thoughts he returned them back to the task at hand. When Christine returned he would deal with her then, not now. Right now he was going to convince Paris to play Christmas carols on her small piano for him. With that thought in mind he put the last dish away, scooped Paris up into his arms and plopped her down on the piano bench in the living room with a grin. She gave him a mock glare but turned around and for the rest of the morning she played Christmas carols for him.
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Paris' Song