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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
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[Info: Alright. This next chapter is going to have a weird flip. I just want to point this out. Phantom (Erik) was taken from the movie while Raoul (who is coming) has been taken from the book. I want the playboy, always flirting; I must have her one. Makes the plot more appealing. Well, enjoy! ~_~ My poor fingers)

[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. ]

~~~~~~~~{@

Christmas, the day of good cheer and the day our lord was born. But also the day, where gifts are given, to the ones you love, to those you hold dear, and to those you believe you need to repay. Yes, the wonderful day, where children run out with their new toys or wear their new clothes, feast upon grand meals.

Esme new well of this holiday, very well indeed. Her father had once surprised her with it. She was very little and she had never seen so much snowfall. But when the day brake came, the snow glittered upon the ground like crystals. Trapping Esme in its pure beauty. She dare not step into the piles for fear she would destroy its glory. But her father had picked her up and carried her laughing self back into their wagon, where he handed her a cloth wrapping. ‘Here.’ He whispered, brushing one of her curly locks from her forehead. ‘Open it.’ She stared at the wrapping in awe before asking, ‘It’s not my birthday.’ She still remember the deep chuckle her father had, as he laughed and ruffled her red hair, his own black locks hanging before his light green eyes. ‘I know. But here there such a thing called Christmas. And I wanted to get my little jewel a little gift.’ Her eyes lit up and she let out a giggle, unwrapping the stained cloth, to bare to her eyes what lingered under. What she found was far more stunning think she hoped to image.

‘It was your mothers.’ Dirt covered hands, larger in her own, picked up a ruby clip. The red stone glittering within the half rose sun, that seeped threw the flaps of the wagon. Glass diamonds circled along the stone, within its sliver frame. So very gently, he placed the clip within his child’s hair, pulling some of the curls back, to bear her right little ear to him. She blushed from the sudden warmth she got and the happiness to be given something her mother once had. Removing his hands, he took a step back and gave her that warm smile. ‘Aye. You look just like your mother.’

“Papa…”

Esmes’ eyes slowly drifted back open, showing her that her dream was not true. And that she was not little once again, but grown. Her father wasn’t there to greet her when she woke, but her Phantom. That made her mind snap and her body jerk up. “Phantom!” Erik sat beside her upon her cot, his dimmed eyes watching her, as she yanked the covers up over her nightgown, tucking it under her chin. “What are you doing here?!” Erik watched and smiled to himself. He had come up here, to wake her for her lessons. She was improving on the violin, which was good. For the past three weeks, she made herself wake when he came over, and practice none stop. Even if her fingers bruised and her shoulder cramped. She seemed to want to play the violin, painfully.

But upon finding her curled in her sheets, sleeping so soundly with that coy smile upon her face. Like her dream was something she wished she did not wake from. In the back of his mind, he almost wished she were dreaming about him. “You seemed to be sleeping well. What did you dream?” He saw the glow in her eyes dim and her face, being melted into sorrow before it quickly changed. “It wasn’t a dream.” She muttered, waving one of her bruised hands, “But more…. Like a memory.” He gave a little nod; she seemed to not want to bring up the details so he wouldn’t force her. “Get dress.” He whispered, pushing himself to stand, his ruffle white shirt, tucked neatly into his black trousers, brushing along his chest, that was very visible since the V collar was hanging open. “I’ll come back in half an hour to pick you up.” Making his way to the door in which he came in, he spoke out softly. “Be ready then.”

Esme watched the door of her room close and she only let out a deep sigh before falling to her side on the mattress. Pressing her cheek into the cool fabric of the sheets. She didn’t want to wake from her dream; she longed to see her father again. Why was fate so cruel to her? She didn’t understand. But she pushed herself up and began to dress. Pulling her hair up within a tangled bun, she clipped it into place, with objects she found within the chest. But, pushing a long strand of red hair, tucking it behind her ear, she placed the Ruby clip within. Keeping that one long lock in place. After so many years, she held onto her clip. The only thing she had of her mothers and something treasured from her father. The diamonds were glass but the one ruby was real. Her father once told her it took months to find this one stone. So she should take good care of it.

Dressing herself within a white blouse that seem to puff out on her, with a black skirt that hugged from her stomach and pooled down and waved out. It was a plain style, and she liked it. She didn’t feel like putting on lace or silk at the moment. But once she slipped into her slippers, the soft knock was heard from her door, before it was pushed open, letting Erik’s masked face come in. “You ready?” She gave a nod then walked over to him, a smile playing her lips. “What are we going to do today?” Erik walked besides her, keeping himself in his emotionless state of mind, no matter how beautiful Esme looked within her outfit. “We, aren’t going to do a thing. You are.” She gave a little frown, as he lead her from her room, down the swirling stairs. “The weather seemed to become a little chilled. Here.” Pulling one of the black fabrics from a stand beside him, as he pasted a railing, leading to another pair of stairs, that led towards the temple. Unfolding it, he wrapped it about Esmes’ shoulders, it was a cloak. Her cheeks flushed from the simple touch of his fingers as he slipped it upon her shoulders, locking it into place upon her throat. “I don’t understand.”

Leading her threw a large opening, shaped as a window from the temple, which she remember from the first night she got here. The window lead to the tunnels where she was lost before. He led her down, towards another window, where the streets of France were slowly becoming busy. “I need you to drop this off.” Turning to her, he placed an envelope within her palm, feeling the wax seal. “The post office is just down the road, drop this off then come back.” She held onto the paper with a frown before she offered. “Would you like to come with me?” Eriks’ face didn’t show the pain that slowly swam threw his veins. He could not go out there. It was day; someone would see his mask, even if he left with a cloak. “I can not…” His voice held the pain instead, making Esmes chest tighten. But she reached up, the same time Erik pulled the hood of the cloak upon her head, covering her red locks. Her fingers touched his jaw softly, whsipering. “I’ll be right back.” The simple touch made him close his eyes, before having his hands trail down to her shoulders, feeling the slenderness of them. He didn’t know why, but he whispered one word, that made her eyes soften, perhaps with longing or even lo-…. No he mustn’t think it. But he said it, making her smile and chuckle.

‘Hurry…’

With a nod, Erik pushed the window’s cage open. Grabbing her small waist, he lifted her up, to climb threw the hole, letting the cold crisp air rush threw her lungs. But crawling out, she stood back up, letting the cloak cover her body in darkness, while the hood tipped lower, hiding her face and hair. Looking back, she saw Erik give her one last look, before sinking to the side, hiding from view. Feeling her within his hands, he didn’t want to let her go. He wanted to pull her closer, hold her tightly, wanting her to stay. But he needed that letter sent. A sad smile curled his lips. Christmas was coming; it was only a few days away. The weather had changed turning cold and bitter. Like his very heart. But he saw the joy in his Gypsy’s eyes. She tried to talk him into getting a tree in which could be placed within the middle of the stage. Even if he wanted a ridicules thing, like a tree that would die and wasting ones time, putting up cheep glass balls on its limbs. How could he get a tree…? She wanted to do something, anything for the holiday and he did nothing but deny her. He couldn’t go out into the world and get her the things she wished for, to cover his home in. But he could give her something, as a gift.

Within that letter, held money and a request. A violin, a new, better one then the one she had right now. The music store will make it, and will hold it. In till the dead of night, in which he could go and pick it up. Only then, will he leave, wrapped in a cloak and black scarf, he would leave his home, for the first time in months.

Only for his gypsy.

He watched Esme as she made her way towards the post office. She moved with such grace, his fingers itched to hold her once again, his legs tightening, wanting to run to her and bring her back from the light of day. But, she would be right back. She said so herself.

~~~~~~~~{@

The winter has set in. The earth’s colds breathe brushing into her hood and tracing her flesh. Making her shiver from its icy touch. She held the letter tightly to her breasts, her mind in wonder. Who was he writing? Was it a family member? Highly doubtful. Her fingers poked at the wax seal softly, itching to open it to see. But that would wrong. It was his privacy. She had no right. She let out a deep sigh. No right at all. It had not yet snowed, but the clouds over head gave her the feeling it would soon. The day of joy and preys is coming. Since her Phantom didn’t want to do anything for the holiday. She guessed she should do something herself. She smiled to herself; she would buy him a gift. Like a repayment, for taking her in all those months ago. But there one thing standing in her way to do such a thing.

She didn’t known what to get him.

She let out a deep sigh. She was horrid when it came to gifts. Her sister told her so when she went out to get presents for them on their birthdays. But this time, she was going to get something that would make her Phantom forget about everything. And think only of her.

Her cheeks flamed from her thought before she gave a dreamy smile. She would like that idea, to have him think of her and only her. Protect her from the cruel hits of life. But first she must find him the perfect gift. Something he would like. Perhaps something musical. She opened the door to the post office, stepping into the warmth of its surroundings. Yes! Music box. That would a wonderful gift, but as she slipped the letter into the ‘outbox’ she let out a deep sigh. No, he had one already and he had enough music playing. Eyes were on her as she turned, making her way back to the door, her tan fingers curling into the cloaks fabric, hugging herself a little more. Perhaps she could get him a music sheet. In which he could play new songs. That was an idea, but not good enough. Her sisters were right, she was terrible at gift picking.

As she walked back down that sidewalk, heading back to the window she had crawled out. The window beside her flashed its lights. Candles flickering, casting its lights upon jewels, that laid in the display window. Necklaces, ear rings, bracelets glory lingered beside Esme. And she could not help but stop and look. Such gems were so beautiful, how she wished she could have one. But she was fine with just staring and dreaming. But before she could wipe her dreams away and head back, one of the objects caught her eyes. It lingered right in the middle, upon a glass mirror. Her eyes widen from its beauty and a smile slowly curled her lips. “That’s it.” She whispered, her fingers slowly pressing into the display window. “That’s the gift.”

Before her laid a glass rose. Swirls of black melted upon each surface. The petals held bits of red, clear and black, while the stem was black and clear, giving it a hunting look. Leafs, only two hanging off under the petals, with sliver outlines. The thorns themselves were sliver, giving it a dazzling glow. It was perfect; Phantom would love such a thing. It was beautiful just like him, giving you a sense of ease and clam. Making yourself want to reach out and take hold, only to but stun by its thorns, remaining you of its pain. So much like her Phantom. That was the gift she would get her friend. Looking at the mirror, she glanced for the price, only to whimper.

“Ninety-five franks….”

It was so expensive; she couldn’t afford such a thing. Pain shot threw her, so much for the gift idea. She would have to go and find something she could buy. But she needed the rose, he would love it! Resting her forehead upon the glass, she let out a deep sigh, the hood of her cloak slipping off a little. Fate was cruel.
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Replaying Past