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Forget Me Not	By : spikesbint Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > AU/AR Views: 12354 -:- 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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A/N Thank you to everyone for their condolences on our family’s loss and for your continued patience for the next chapter.

I’ve Decided

An hour earlier

It had been with deep regret that Erik had left her side that morning. If he were honest with himself, he had been afraid that she would awaken and lament what had passed between them in the cold light of day. When he had gone to see her the night before, it had not been his intention to bed her. However, as any starving man when faced with a banquet he had been unable to resist, taking his fill of what she offered. He had watched her sleep for a long time before he had allowed himself to join her. She looked younger while she slept in his arms, some of the faint lines around her eyes, erased. He could almost imagine her to still be the young woman of so long ago. She would look stunning, even when old. Erik knew he wanted to be around to see those changes.

A slight smile had graced her mouth. He had been unable to resist tracing those lips, swollen from his kisses. He now knew what it was to make love; it was more heady and satisfying than those meaningless few encounters of so long ago. She was a generous lover. He could not wait to lie with her again and his body hardened at the thought. Erik had finally dragged himself away from her side, saving to his memories; the wonder in her face as they had rode the waves of their passion together. He would wager that her husband had never wrought such feeling from her. His heart contracted with jealousy at the thought of Raoul. He knew it was foolishness to be resentful of a dead man. She was his now. She would never be anyone else’s, not unless they wished to face an untimely end.

Christine had responded so sweetly to him, even now her soft sighs and whispers rang in his ears. She had not told him that she loved him. He did not want to hear those words from her…not yet. He was not experienced in the complexities of relationships. In that area she had the advantage over him, but he wanted to learn and for her to teach him. He smiled to himself; the master had become the pupil in an unimagined reversal of roles.

He had quietly slipped out of Meg’s apartment and had hailed a passing hansom cab. He had got in with one last glance at the building before he had settled into the seat in deep contemplation.

There was still so much that he did not understand about the intricacies of affairs of the heart. It was all new to him, having avoided all contact with others unless necessary. That would all have to change if he were to see to the running of the Metropolitan. It would bring him into the company of people that would point at him and women who would whisper behind their fans. Stranger’s reactions were not new to him, but somehow the idea that Christine would be there too, made it much easier to bear. He knew he was being presumptive in thinking she would willingly take a position at the Opera house, but it was his dearest hope.

As the carriage arrived at the Opera Populaire he was greeted by Andre and Firmin. Erik almost wondered if they had some kind of sixth sense, but dismissed them both for the bumbling fools that he knew they were when he remembered that he had told them to expect him at 8:30 that morning. He took the gold pocket watch from his pocket and smiled. In half an hour, Christine would be here.

“Good morning gentlemen,” Erik said.

Andre and Firmin were taken aback by the genuine smile he gave them. They looked at each other in confusion as they followed him into the interior of the opera house. They turned to look back at Erik, both of them startled to find him nowhere in sight.

“Hhhmpf! I hate it when he does that,” said Andre in indignation.

“There must still be a secret passage or two about,”

“Poppycock! We had them all walled up during the restoration!” said Andre as he stormed off back to his office.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Erik could hear them both debating his disappearance from within one of the pillars. They had not been as clever at they had thought, as most of his original modifications were still in existence. He turned and walked down the passageway. It was in much the same condition as the one that led in from the stables. He cut a path through the cobwebs with the top of his cane, grimacing in distaste. The years of luxury had made him soft he thought to himself.

When he reached the end of the passage, he came to a door and turned its handle. It groaned on rusty hinges as he swung it open. He took the steps down to his old lair, navigating the traps he had set, remembering them as if it were only yesterday in his memory. One wrong step could be the death of him or anyone else that had been foolish enough to venture to the lower levels. This visit would not take long, Erik knew what he sought and he wanted be seated in the shadows of the theatre in good time to see Christine’s performance.

Erik entered the old chamber that had once been his creative domain. He did not want to linger here any longer than necessary. It held too many sad memories for him. He knelt down by the side of the swan bed. The mattress had long since crumpled to dust in the damp conditions and neglect. By the looks of the place the only creatures brave enough to come here had been of the rodent kind. He felt underneath for the secret compartment that held his works. The box was still there. He brought it out from under the bed, brushing off the dust from it.

He opened it, his scores were yellowed from age, but at least they were still intact. The song that he prized above all others was laying on top of a thick wad of score sheets. Christine’s song, as he had simply titled it. He had once harboured dreams of singing it to her, but the chance had never presented its self.

He read the notes and hummed the melody under his breath, although the song was still fresh in his mind anyway. He rolled it up and tied it with a piece of string. Taking one last glance at his home, he noticed the monkey music box, still sitting where he had left it. He walked over to it and picked it up, turning the key, surprised to find that it still worked.

The notes echoed through the chamber as he replaced it. He checked his watch again. There was only ten minutes left until Christine would be arriving for the audition. He dusted off his gloves and made his way back up to the ground level of the opera house.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The carriage pulled up outside the Opera Populaire. Meg began to get out, when Christine put a hand on her friend’s arm.

“What is it now Christine? I thought I had told you that all will be well,” sighed Meg.

“I know, but this is a big step for me. Last time I sang on a stage I was with the Phantom,”

“You are disappointed he is not here?” Asked Meg.

“Every note I have ever sung has been with him near me…after last night I had hoped…”

“And what happened last night?”

Christine blushed “Nothing…nothing at all. I am going to be late for my audition and that’s not the sort of impression I wish to make,”

Meg sighed in frustration as she got out of the carriage followed by her friend. Christine gazed up at the exterior of the building as a lot of old memories came back to her. Memories of long nights spent with Erik and days with Raoul. Should she feel guilty for thinking the nights that little more exciting?

Meg took her arm and led her into the foyer. Christine glanced around nervously at her surroundings. She sensed Erik’s presence behind her before he even made himself known. It gave her precious seconds to compose herself and calm the irregular beating of her heart. Nothing could be done about the high colour, which she was sure, stained her cheeks. She took a deep breath and turned around to face him.

“Christine what are you…oh!” exclaimed Meg as she turned and saw what or exactly whom had distracted her friend. “I will see you backstage. Do you remember your way to the dressing rooms?”

Christine looked at Erik, her heart in her mouth as she studied his face. Meg’s words hardly registered as she mumbled some sort of response and Meg walked away.

“Christine,” the one solitary word spoke volumes to her.

She held out her hand to him, not knowing what to say after the night of passion they had shared. Erik took her hand, removed her glove, and bent over it, his lips touching the sensitive skin. Christine flinched in shock as she felt the tip of his tongue as he kissed her hand. He raised his head to look up at her with a devilish grin on his face.

He took her hand, placed it on his arm, as they walked along together.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“Why to your dressing room of course,”

“Someone might see. It’s not proper,” she whispered.

“And you still worry about propriety after last night?” he drawled incredulously.

“If you had a shred of decency in you wouldn’t mention that,” she said looking away, her nose in the air.

Erik bent down until he was at the level of her ear. “The fact that I am indecent is what gets you so wet for me,”

He smirked at her outraged expression and continued to lead her to the dressing room. Once inside the room he drew her into his arms before she had a chance to protest. Christine was soon caught up in the fierce demands of his lips against hers as his tongue gained entrance to her mouth. Her arms wound around his neck, her cry of surprise lost in his mouth as he lifted her up against the door and pulled up her skirts.

“We cannot, there is not time!” she protested half-heartedly.

“Christine I need you. I did not mean for things to go that far between us last night, but after what we shared I find I want you more than ever,”

She smiled sadly at him and nodded her head. She wanted him just as badly, and there was no use in denying it. Now that Christine knew what it was to be loved by him, she needed him too. He removed her undergarments and freed himself from his pants as he pinned Christine up against the door again, lifting her up and impaling her on his hardened shaft.

What aroused her was the spontaneity of their lovemaking. With Raoul, every thing had had to have order including their marital relations. He had never strayed from that pattern except on their wedding night. All thoughts of Raoul were quickly forced from her mind as Erik began to move inside her. She wrapped her legs around him to hold on. Erik buried his face in the valley of her breasts just visible above the neckline of her dress.

Her little cries of pleasure as he pounded into her almost drove him to insanity.

“Harder,” she whispered. Shocked at herself as her thoughts spilled onto her tongue and she voiced them.

Erik looked up at her. She could tell he had been a little taken aback at her request.

“Your wish is my command,” he groaned.

He smiled to himself as her eyes closed with the pleasure he was giving her as he drove into her with renewed ferocity. They were both so close to the edge. There was no time for the leisurely loving of the night before. Christine cried out, quickly muffling her cries in his shoulder as she came. Moments later Erik joined her as with a final thrust he spilled himself inside her.

The only sound in the room was their laboured breathing, as Erik lowered her to the floor. She held onto him, afraid if she let go she would fall at his feet. He held her away from him a little to give them both a chance to straighten their disordered clothing.

He bent his head to kiss her gently, and pulled her to him and holding her as if he would never let her go. After a couple of moments, he reluctantly released her.

“I am sorry,” he sighed.

“For what?” she asked in confusion.

“That I was not tenderer for you,” Seeing her again in the foyer had unleashed something almost primal in him.

Christine searched his face. “Erik I am no longer a child of sixteen, I am a grown woman and I wanted it just as much as you. Do you not know…since you came back… all these weeks…that I have felt more alive than I have felt in a long long time?”

Erik crushed her to him once more and kissed her soundly, before smiling down at her ruefully. “Thank you for that,”

Christine groaned. “I must look a mess! I am late for my audition! I just know it,” she said beginning to panic.

It was then that Erik felt a sharp pang of regret for what he had done. Maybe she would have come with him to America with no questions asked. He cursed himself for his deception. It was no longer an option. He should have had more faith in her. Had he not done that before and she had left him for another anyway. He hardened his heart against the alien emotion and moved away.

“Andre and Firmin will wait for you,”

Christine frowned as something occurred to her. “What are you doing here? Do Andre and Firmin know? You shouldn’t have risked it; they could call the police on you,”

“I will hide in the shadows as I always do. No one will even know I am here except for yourself and Meg. Thank you for your concern nonetheless. I must go and take my place,”

Christine examined her face in the mirror. A couple of curls had escaped their pins. She re-pinned her hair and turned around, surprised to find the room empty, but for herself.

“Knowing that you will be with me means more than you know,” she said quietly.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was with leaden steps that the Phantom made his way to box five. The feeling of guilt, which had settled in his breast, was tearing him apart. He could tell her, but he knew that if he did he could lose all chance of being with her forever, he sighed. Just because they had made love a few times, did not obligate her to come with him to the states when he returned, and return he must. A harassed looking Andre intercepted him on the stairs, here was his chance to end all of this before it began, but as he regarded the manager, he remained silent.

“Where is Miss Daae?” Andre asked.

“Madame De Chagny will be along shortly,” Erik replied.

“It is a good job we are not hiring her. If there is anything I cannot stand, it is unpunctuality,” he muttered, walking off.

Erik slipped into box five and repositioned the chair to keep his presence concealed. Not long after, Christine appeared on stage. She looked nervously at Andre and Firmin and then nodded to the pianist that waited in the orchestra pit for her signal.

Christine opened her mouth to sing, the first few notes came out shaky and reedy. She glanced up at box five, searching for him in the gloom. He came out of the shadows for a moment, to let her know that he was there. She smiled and turned back to face the managers.

Erik sat there in the darkness, spellbound by her performance. She would take New York by storm. Her voice seemed stronger than he remembered; it had a renewed passion that had not been present last night, not even when she had sung in his arms.

As the last notes died away, she glanced up at where he sat, giving a little bow before facing the managers. Andre clapped enthusiastically until Firmin slapped him hard on the back, almost knocking the cigar from his mouth.

“A little less enthusiasm,” hissed Firmin in his ear.

Andre paled looking around the theatre nervously, before folding his arms across his chest. “Very well done Miss Daae…er I mean Madame De Chagny, however it is with great regret to inform you that we are not presently hiring any principle singers. There is only opening for chorus girls and I think you know the pay is not substantial,”

Christine felt the tears spring to her eyes as she looked at the managers. She would not give into the urge to cry, instead she felt a white-hot anger build up inside of her. Nevertheless, with a ragged breath she kept the disappointment in.

Meg came marching out of the wings to join her friend, on stage, her expression thunderous as she glared at her employers.

“Then why even let her audition?”

“We had news that there is a problem with funding for the next season which precludes us being able to justify the expense of a new addition to the corps. The letter had only arrived a moment ago, I did not know how to tell you,” replied Firmin quietly.

Meg turned back to face Christine. “I am so sorry…” She stopped mid-sentence as she saw that the place Christine had been occupying was empty.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Christine ran through the maze of back stage passages, until she came to a familiar set of steps and ran down them, the tears streaming down her face. She sank to the cold stone floor, as she stared up at the altar before her. The chapel was still the cold silent place she remembered it to be. She lit a candle and sat back to watch the tiny flame as it flickered in its holder.

She wiped away her tears, surprised as a clean white square of embroidered cotton, with the initials ED on its corner, was thrust in front of her face. Christine took it gratefully and struggled to get up. Erik put out a hand to help her to feet and led her over to the window seat in the corner. Seeing her so distressed was almost moving him to tears. He had been so wrong, he knew that now, and he could never tell her. Whatever she felt for him, he doubted she would be able to forgive him.

He pulled her into his arms and held her in the reverent silence of the little chapel. Several minutes has passed without either of them speaking, before he finally lifted her head up so he could look at her face.

“Christine, I may be able to help you…”

“How?” she asked.

“I am not without means or influence. While I have been living in America, I invested what money I am a wealthy man. I have an important position at a newly built opera house in New York,”

Christine looked at him, stunned by his revelations.

“What exactly are you saying? That you have a position for me at your opera house?”

Erik smiled at her. “It only part mine, an eighth in fact, but I am the manager and have control over who is hired,”

Christine got up from the window seat and looked down at him. “I will not be anyone’s charity case,”

He sighed; she always had had an underlying stubborn streak. When he had tutored her as a young girl, she would often sulk if he were harsh with her, whilst trying only to bring the best out in her voice he had often seen it.

“You would not be anyone’s charity case. You will be paid a wage like anyone else and no more or less than that. You will have to audition like anyone else too,”

“But to leave France and start a new life so far from…”

“From Raoul?” He asked harshly. “He is dead Christine…do not bury yourself with him. This is a new chance for you. However, I will not force you,” He cringed inwardly at his choice of words, for he knew he already had left her little or no options. “I must sail for New York on Friday. I can purchase tickets for you and anyone else you would wish to accompany you. I leave the decision entirely up to you,”

With that, he strode from the chapel, leaving her in contemplative silence. Christine was so caught up in her chaotic thoughts that she did not even realise that he was gone.

“Yes…the answer is yes,” she said. As she turned and saw she was alone, her shoulders sagged and she sat back down.

Erik was on the top step when he heard her softly spoken words. He closed his eyes for a moment and thanked whatever forces were at work, that for once in her life she had been decisive. He turned on the step and walked back down to her. He found her sitting by the stained glass window again. The sunlight streamed through the coloured glass, giving her an almost ethereal appearance. Erik’s heart contracted with the strength of his feelings as he studied her profile.

Christine turned around, and saw him standing there. She got up from the seat, ran to him, and wrapped her arms about him. “I will go to New York with you and sing at your opera house,” she sighed resting her head on his shoulder.

He had gotten what he had wanted, hadn't he? Then why did the victory seem so hollow?

TBC

TBC
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Forget Me Not