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Three Spirits	By : BellaLaura Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Crossovers Views: 3412 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera, Halloween, or A Christmas Carol. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
It was then that I turned, not blindly towards the tunnel that would lead to the surface, but with intent purpose towards the bitter waters of the lake. There was nothing else to be said, I had revealed all, hoped, and lost. It was a simple decision after that, for having been allowed a glimpse of the future I had learned one other very important lesson.

A life without Erik was not a life that I wished to live.

The first icy rush swirled around my calves as I stepped in eagerly, my shoes and stockings instantly saturated. The prickle of numbing flesh occurred more quickly than I had thought it would, a blessing perhaps. Another step, then another...and the sloping bank fell off and the weight of my dress easily helped to pull me under. The water was as black as it was cold, and I smiled. I did not fight, there was no reason left to do so, and this seemed to be a fairly painless way to go. I released the air in my lungs as easily as I gave up my will. Almost done...

The blast of frigid air hurt as much as the strong grip in my tangled hair. I fought that grip- twisting and sputtering, coughing and swearing as I tried to resist being pulled back to the bank.

“You damned fool!” He tossed me onto the ground, hovering over me with the air of a vengeful angel as his hands began wringing the water from my clothes and hair. “How could you think to do such a thing?”

I could not answer, my teeth were chattering hard enough for my entire head to shake and the once blissful cold of the water was now a painful sting upon my skin. Erik was as drenched as myself, I could feel the drops falling from him and knew he must be as horridly uncomfortable as myself. I stayed literally frozen in place as he draped his cloak around me, hating myself for relishing not only the warmth of the material but for savoring the familiar scent upon it.

He lifted me as if my weight were no consequence, soaked or not, and began to walk towards the tunnel I had been so recently ordered to. His ability to see so well in the dark had never ceased to amazed me, it did so now as he easily maneuvered through passageways that I could have never managed

“Nnn...no...du..du..du don’t t..t..take me....buh...b.b.bbb.back.” My shaking, so much so that Erik’s arms trembled from it, made my attempt at speech sound utterly ridiculous, but I could not return to the surface. I wanted to...deserved to...perish in those black waters.

“You little fool...you would never make it the surface.” His voice was as steady as he made another turn before carefully setting me upon my feet. One arm remained to steady me as the other reached and opened a door that I had not noticed, though it was but inches from me. A welcoming warmth flowed from the small room as Erik ushered me in.

A small coal stove was providing the warmth, accompanied by the few candles as I turned, glancing around the room. It was filled mostly by Erik, his imposing height seemed to dominate the space. I recognized few other things save his violin and the music box. The small bed, chair and table were furnishings I assumed he had pilfered from the Opera after it had been evacuated.

“Here.” He handed me a length of cotton and when I stood dumbly looking at it, Erik proceeded to wrap my wet hair in it. “If you wish to catch pneumonia, then by all means you should remain in those garments.”

I set my jaw stubbornly and pulled the wrap from my hair.. “It will be a slower death, perhaps, but the end result will be the same.”

His eyes flared anger, his cold hands pulling the cape from me before roughly turning me and unfastening my dress. “Why Christine?” I did not know if he was talking to himself or expected me to answer. “Why? I try to free you, to give you the life you deserve...not this...this thing...”

Erik pulled the ruined cloth from me, the gooseflesh upon my blue tinged skin burning as he did so. “You have freedom...life...and you try to drown! What the hell is wrong with you? I am the one sentenced to die here...not you!”

“Wh..why Erik?” My petticoats, stockings and shoes were removed with efficiency, leaving me clad in wet corset and shift.

“Why? You will catch your death of cold if you stay in these.” He was the epitome of avoidance now.

“NO! Why are you sentenced to die here? I deserve that as much, if not more than you!”

“Here Christine, I will drape the blanket so you change.”

“Goddamn it Erik! Will you listen to one damn word I am saying?” I snatched said blanket and threw it across the room, before looking back to one very shocked man. “Be angry with me, hate me if you like, but don’t take away my choice again! It is my choice whether I want to live in misery or to end it all! And why does it concern you now? You made it clear you certainly don’t want me...”

“Little fool...” His hands came up to my face then, his cold fingertips tracing my equally cold jawline. I closed my eyes at the gentle touch, as light as his fingers ever were upon the strings of his violin. So affected by that touch, I wasn‘t sure if I heard or imagined the next words from him.

“It is the wanting of you that will be the death of me.”

There would be no pleading for forgiveness, no oaths or pledges of eternal love, for whether it was said or simply imagined, I believed those few words would most likely be the only words given by him.

It was enough.

For me.

For him.

It was enough.

I should not write what followed those words, but dear friend, these moments are burned into my soul. Without these moments...forgive me. I simply mean that I am not intending to be, well to be crude in any form, but there are no simple ways or words to describe what happened other than to go right out and say (or in this case write) it.

Erik’s hands were still upon my face as I opened my eyes and met his own. I knew what this look was now, after lonely months with this face in my dreams, I knew the look of hunger, of desire...of passion. And unlike the foolish girl of before, this time I was not afraid. The slight nod was the only consent given or needed before our lips met again.

The wetness of the fabric impeded our efforts to remove our garments, as did our unbearably cold limbs. The first warmth I felt was the blush upon my cheeks as I stood bare before him, his gaze hot upon me. I averted my eyes, torn between desperately wanting to look at all of him as he was me and the simple insecurity of the unknown.

“Christine.”

His voice had never failed to command me before. I obeyed and walked into his embrace.

The feel of skin upon skin...I had gone from the frozen depths of hell, yes hell is cold my friend...it is heaven where you feel pleasure so intense you think you will burn... The stove’s warmth was nothing compared to the growing conflagration between our bodies.

Our mouths each feasted upon the other, tasting and exploring with a heretofore unknown abandon as our hands explored one another. I was amazed by the...the... maleness of him. I had seen the dancers of the Populaire, even the men who worked in the building, I was well aware of the differences between men and women, but to have this now beneath my fingers. Utter bliss...hard angles and strength, lean muscle and power... simply the feel of him. I grazed my hands over him, the flat nipples of his chest hard against my fingers, followed the trail of hair down his torso. I had but the briefest moment to wrap my hand around his engorged length before his hands stopped my own.

His mouth broke away from my own, hoarsely whispering against me, “Mine,”

I could only nod as his hands slid over me, investigating the curves and hollows, cupping my breasts before he lowered his mouth to one. My legs gave way when his mouth closed over my nipple, but he held me there as he feasted upon my flesh with a leisure I felt fast disappearing. His tongue swirled over the hardened flesh, nipping and licking, sending the gooseflesh back upon my skin. He suckled hard and the cry escaped before I had sane thought to stop it.

Erik stopped instantly. “I ..I did not intend to hurt you.”

“You didn’t.”

“Oh.” I pulled his head back to me, convincing him without words that it was indeed what I wanted. Erik obliged and several more gasps and cries sounded this time.

His mouth nipped up my neck until it returned to possess mine. Still holding me upright with one arm, his other hand slid between my thighs and explored skin I had only touched out of necessity before now. Now...now I was sure I would die if he dared take this touch, tentative as it was, away from me. This time it was I who broke the kiss to beg, to plead for more. Erik looked at me for a long moment, I could not say what he was thinking as he did so...whether it was doubt, worry, insecurity. I stood, unmoving, and waited for his decision.

He picked me up and moved across the room, placing me upon the small bed as though I were made of glass. As I settled upon the mattress, he hesitated.

“Are you certain you wish to bed a monster?”

I doubted he would believe any verbal answer, I simply reached my arms to him...and he joined me. So much to remember...the weight of his body upon mine, the feel of our limbs entangling, the look upon his face as I assured him there was no monster in this bed, only he and I.

“I want to know you...all of you...” The words were muffled against the skin of my throat as his lips and teeth left a trail down my body. The rough skin of his marred face brushed against my inner thigh, a whimper escaping me as I realized much to late exactly what he meant by those words. That realization was my last coherent thought as his mouth made its first contact with my aching body.

Indeed I was no longer in possession of my body as his lips and tongue proceeded...each taste, each probe sending fire coursing through my veins. I arched and struggled, my body wanting to escape such an intimate invasion while simultaneously desiring it to never end. Erik looked up for a moment, those eyes meeting mine with a deadly intensity before suddenly lifting my hips from the sheets, spreading me wide for another erotic assault.

His tongue...dear God...I wanted to scream, to cry out...yet all I could do was writhe and gasp beneath his touch. The next slow slide combined with his teeth, nipping and sucking upon my flesh, and prayers to the Almighty interspersed with the recitation of my lover’s name.

The combined sensations of fire and ice ruled my body then, as his hot breath burned upon my lower body, the cooler air of the room chilled my damp skin. His words were unintelligible as he feasted upon my wet flesh, tasting me at his leisure, as if I were some delicious confection meant only for him, a man starved and denied too long.. My fingers released their deathly tight grip upon the bed linens and moved to embrace his head. Erik looked up for a moment, and I groaned with the loss of his touch upon me. I could see evidence of my body’s reaction to his ministrations, the slick wetness lingering upon his lips as they curved into a rare smile before his he resumed once more.

The roughened scars brushed against my left thigh as he moved, his broad shoulders spreading me wider still. His hands released their intense grip upon my hips, sliding over my skin in a heated caress before joining his delicious mouth. I should have felt shame as his long fingers opened me for his intimate perusal, but I knew him, knew his curiosity, knew that I would be given the same opportunity to learn every single portion of my Angel’s body.

One finger slid slowly in, then out as my muscles clenched greedily at the digit, desiring for it to stay and repeat the slow torturous motion. My eyes widened as Erik brought the now moist finger to his lips, his tongue slowly removing all evidence of my body’s reaction. My mind wandered for a moment, as I imagined the opportunity of returning such delicious pleasure upon his body, but I was brought swiftly back into the present as he penetrated my body once again. This time there was no slow, delicate motion, but a fiery build...each stroke of his hand working my body into a frenzy. I cried to him, again and again, sure that I was going to burn, to shatter if he continued.

He did not cease. And I exploded, fragmenting as the rush of pleasure flew from my center and coursed through every inch of me.

Seconds? Minutes? How long was it before I was aware of him watching me so intently, his gaze bordering curiosity?

Curiosity. Erik was not the only one in possession of that particular trait. I knew there was so much more to learn, and I was not willing to waste another moment. I smiled, tugging on his shoulders, needing him.

He moved much like one of the big cats, always with grace, and now was no exception as he came back to me. I was momentarily shocked as I tasted myself upon his lips, then found it to be a most pleasurable experience as the kiss deepened. As I let my hands roam again, the smooth muscle of his shoulders changing into raised lines of flesh, scars from the numerous whippings he had endured...all because of his face.

His face...

I now had an unheralded opportunity to convince him (certainly there was no more convincing needed for me) to prove to him that there was nothing, nothing, that could horrify me in regards to my Angel, least of all these superficial scars. I felt my breath catch as my bare skin rubbed against his, the combination of hard muscle against soft curves more than enough to ward off any chill in the room. Dare I...would he allow me the same exploration?

The first kiss was tentative upon that marred cheek, not out of fear, but from the horrid thought of causing him any further pain. His sigh, soft and utterly heart wrenching, fluttered against my cheek as I repeated my kiss. But lips weren't enough, I wanted to know him, fully, completely. His heart and soul, mind and body... even the taste of the imperfect skin upon his face.

Every inch, every twist and hollow of that beautiful face was covered by a kiss before I spoke. “Erik...please.”

“I...have never...I can not bear to fail you again...” His eyes shifted away from my gaze, and I knew he was recalling the earlier incident.

“Please.” I prayed then, that the ghosts and horrors of our past would leave us be, allow us this moment regardless of whether or not there would ever be another. I arched instinctively feeling the hard length of him against my thigh, knowing our bodies wanted their mates, if only the minds could be overruled.

“Please.” I repeated.

He pressed against me. “It will hurt you.”

“I have known far greater pain.” I kissed the flawed skin in front of his left ear. “I want to know you.”

His mouth took mine a moment before a knee opened me to him. Erik rose, took my hand in his and guided it down between our bodies. “Guide me.”

I could feel the pulse through the tight skin as my hand slid around him. He groaned as the tip grazed against my wet center, then it was my turn to whimper as he slowly began to penetrate my body.

Erik’s skin had a thin sheen of sweat, I could see the control evident in the set of his jaw as my body resisted any further intrusion. “If I go further, I will hurt you.”

“If you stop, you will kill me.” I spoke the truth, for the thought of a moment’s pain was nothing to me, but the thought of never completely belonging to this man...I would go mad. “I am yours.”

And in one rending instant I was completely his, a single deep thrust immersing him wholly within me. We were momentarily frozen, our bodies adjusting to the sensations.

I shuddered, not from fear at the face above me, but from the sensations coursing through me, the brief flash of pain having subsided. I was completely stretched and filled by his length, our bodies sealed together. Now unburdened of our mutual virginity, the call to move instinctively drove us on, the first attempts slow, careful gentle motion.

The gentleness did not last long.

The basic dance steps learned, we hungered for more. Lips met, broke apart. The sounds... the meeting of damp skin, gasping, harsh breaths, whispered entreaties...I can close my eyes and return there so easily.

Each movement seemed choreographed to drag us higher, our bodies struggled against one another, the pounding, almost frightful rhythms driving us onward. Love...Lust...pure instinct...whatever it can be named I answered to it as fiercely as Erik. Surely it can not be called lovemaking when nails dig into skin, when fingers bruise with their intensity, when cries to the Almighty intersperse with the revered whisper of your name. Yet the intensity seemed to be what my body craved. This was different from earlier, moving from deep within me and I could only hold on as the wave overwhelmed me, a final strangled cry escaping me as I clutched tight to Erik.

It seemed to startle Erik back into some sort of awareness, his eyes meeting mine in a near panic. Even here at this moment he tried to hide, burying his face against my neck. His breath was hot against my damp skin and I instinctively knew from the tremble in his body that his own release was close.

My legs wrapped around his hips as his thrusts intensified, each stroke hard, purposeful, so deep I felt the weight of his testicles against my sex. I gasped as his body drove deep again, wondering if I would ever be able to move again, then not caring as I felt my body respond eagerly, working towards another release. Erik’s hands tightened upon me, one thrust, another...then a series of spasms as his body arched hard against mine, the friction resulting from that motion sending me over the edge once again. I felt the clenching of my body, holding him as he released, a hot, tangible warmth flooding me.

“Erik...” I gasped as I willed my racing heart to slow, then felt the warmth sliding down my shoulder.

“Erik?” He lifted his face from my shoulder and immediately turned it away.

Not now...I could not allow him to hide from me now, not at this moment. My hands turned him back to me. The salt of the tears mingled with the perspiration already upon his face, sliding down the one perfect cheek, the one totally marred one as I stared at the broken, yet complete man above me. Then my hands pulled his face gently down to mine and the tears mattered no more.

And so dear friend a month has passed, a month spent tentatively learning about one another, working towards healing and hoping. I have yet to explain to Erik why I returned. I wonder if he would believe a tale about being my being visited by ghosts. Perhaps one day...but not yet.

As for the future, we are leaving tomorrow on a ship bound for America. Why there you ask? It was quite a debate...where to go. The lair here is destroyed, but the mob never found all the Opera Ghost’s “salary”. To stay in France now would be to always wonder and worry about being discovered, and it is not as if either of us has wonderful memories here. (You are the exception, dear friend.) Perhaps a new country, a new home, a new life....

I have forgiven him. Whatever sins were committed are not mine to judge, for surely mine are as deep. I love him. Perhaps one day he will know that it is the truth, not simply another ploy of God’s or the Devil’s to torture him. That he can live, above ground and in the light, as any other man has the right to.

Love can conquer all things.

I hope it is so.

~Finis~
- 7
- 8
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Three Spirits