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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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[Kay. Dont yell at me. But I know I did the Money bit wrong. I'll fix it once I get more info. But in till then. Just go along with it.]

[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. ]
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Erik frowned a little. Why had she stopped? His eyes watched Esme make her way back after stopping by a window. This made his heart sink, why did she stop? Why wasn’t she coming back, he found himself grabbing the window cage, almost ready to push it open. But stopped himself before doing so. What was wrong with him, what was he doing. Bringing his hand back down to his side, he watched. She seemed to glow, what was she looking at that made her smile so? He sighed softly, he hoped his gift would give her that smile. But as he watched closely, she seemed to become sad. He frowned, was the cold making her such? Or was it bad memories? He ached to take her in his arms and take those thoughts away. He wanted to protect her from those thoughts, from the harsh light of day. He wanted her to be with him, within the darkness of night.

He shook his head quickly, what was he thinking. But the window opened as Esme pulled its cage, making Erik stepping out to grab her and help her down. She was silent. It cut him to the core. Closing the window, he looked back to her, as the hood of the cloak fell back, letting her red locks be seen. He watched her quietly for the moment, before he slowly reached over, taking hold of one of her hands. Her hand was so small, so fragile in his large rough ones. He could brake her in two… But he took her hand and turned her to him, his free hand letting his knuckles brush under her chin, tipping her head back to look into his eyes. “Milady, what’s wrong?” She looked up at him and in a heartbeat, threw herself into his arms, burying her face into his chest. This sudden attack of emotion made him stiffen. But his hands settled upon the small of her back, holding her closer. Warming her from the cold air. “Did you miss me that much?” He teased, letting his cheek rest within her hair, breathing deep of the winter’s scent that lingered.

He was started to enjoy holding her within his arms, before he heard a little gasp. Sudden, as fast as she had flung herself into his arms, she yanked herself out. “Oh!” Erik stared in complete shock, as Esme grabbed his hands and yanked him. “I’ll met you in your lair in a moment. I have to see to something first.” Before he could ask, what has gotten her into a rush, she turned and ran off, leaving him behind. Was she embarrassed from her action? Or perhaps… His fingers curled into a fist at his side. His touch, sicken her. Within his crushed state, he didn’t bother to think, of the times she held him and he held her without her flinching away like she did now. But his fear of being alone again took its stand, and sent his mind back into its fog of doubt and pain. And slowly, as the day his singer left him, he made his way back to his lair.

~~~~~~~~{@

Bells! Esme hushing feet echoed threw the theater. She rushed across the stage to the stairs, leading to her room. Bells, she had sliver bells. Pure sliver, she could trade those in and have the money to get his gift. She squealed in delight as she pushed her door open and ran to her trunk. Pushing it open, she dug within the garments, pulling out the skirt she wore when he first got her. The bells chimed from the rough movement and she only stared. Sliver, this would be placed to good use. Walking towards a table, she sat upon the old chair, having it crack from her weight. But she took hold of a pair of scissors Phantom had given her in order to help her get the gowns to fit. Carefully, she started to cut the little bells from her skirt, making sure not to rip or ruin the fabric in the processes. The bells fell one by one, its tunes ringing out softly upon the table. It wasn’t long before she had a pile, placing her skirt aside, she went back to the trunk, digging about. She knew she had a small bag in which she could put the bells. It wasn’t in till she hit the very bottom, that she found a small bag. One used to hold coins. Pulling it up, she opened it to see if anything were inside.

Nothing. With a smile, she walked to the table and placed the bells inside. Once she had her lesson with Phantom, she would find a store in which she could trade these. She giggled to herself. She found a way to get money, a way to get her friend that gift. Tieing the purse to the sash she had wrapped around her stomach, tucking a bow in the back, she made her way back out, and down to her friends’ lair.

~~~~~~~~{@

Eriks sat up from his slouched position in his chair. The rushing footsteps greeting his ears. He would think, that Esme would take slower steps, to stay away from him. But she seemed to be rushing, as if wanting to see him. He would never understand the girl. But he sighed, leaning back in his chair as she appeared from the full-length mirror, her face brighten with a smile. This just made Erik frowned. Perhaps, she was just embarrassed after all. He chuckled to his own pity. He was slowly slipping. Esme made her way over to him, taking a seat upon the table at his side. “So Phantom.” She began, placing her hands within her lap. “Are we to start my lessons?” Erik watched her with his eyes quietly, before he shocked his head, letting out a sigh. “No Esme.” He muttered, placing his fingers to his temple. “I don’t feel well right now.” He was making excuses yes, but he had a lot on his mind. But they slowly faded, when Esme palm was placed upon his forehead. “You do feel warm.” She whispered, pressing the back of her hand to his cheek, a frown playing on her lips. “Perhaps you should lie down. The weather has turned to the worst these past few weeks.”

Erik closed his eyes, pressing his cheek softly into her plam, letting him up sorb the warmth, he chuckled. “No, I will be fine. Just let me sit here.” She was slouched over, letting her eyes rake over him. She was checking to make sure he was truly all right. That made him smile on the inside, very tempted to pull her into his lap and pull her closer. But before he got the chance she moved away from him, “I’ll get you something to drink then. It should cool you down.” With a sadden sigh to have his chance ripped away, he gave a nod before she turned, fixing a glass of wine for him. He could not help but watch the way she moved, the way her hips swayed with her movement. Making his groin tighten even more at the thought of what lingered under those skirts. She smiled to him from over her shoulder, before carrying a wineglass to him.

She was the only one, besides his old friend, Madam Giry, that hasn’t run away from him for someone else. He took the wineglass from her, taking a slow sip. Perhaps she would stay with him and never leave. She was his now… He smiled at the idea. He claimed her with his eyes, with his mind. Perhaps, she wouldn’t hurt him like his first singer had done. “Now, you just relax alright?” He gave her a smile that did reach his eyes, before he asked. “Why don’t you watch over me. That way I don’t try myself out.” He was teasing her, she could tell. But she only placed her hands upon her hips, before she snorted very unlady like. “You’re a big boy.” But he gave her that smile again, tugging the strings to her heart. She would stay and take care of him, but she had a task she must do first. “I’ll be back alright?” Patting his head softly, like he was some kind of dog, she turned to leave. But his hand took hold of her wrist, stopping her in place.

“Where are you going?”

She looked back at him slowly, her eyes staring into his own. She could not help but smile at him. He looked like a lost child to her, holding her wrist, his face may not of shown it, but his eyes most clearly do. She took his hand, bringing it up to her face, letting her lips softly touch his knuckles. “On an errand. I’ll be back soon.” Fire brushed along his knuckles from where her lips did met. Right then and there, he wanted to take her. Wanted to drag her back to him, push them both on the ground, he wanted to fill his hand with the softness of her body, mold his hard frame into her soft one, to bury himself instead of her, taking the pleasure that was denied him for all these years. But she let his hand go and made her way out, making him spit out a curse for his timing. But she was leaving. She was going to go into the light. He frowned a little to himself, his fingers curling a little more into the wineglass. Something wasn’t right. Not right at all. Lifting his glass up to his lips, he drowned the rest down his throat, placed the empty glass upon the table beside him and pushed himself up. Picking up one of his cloaks, he wrapped it around his neck, grabbing a black scarf and began his way after Esme. Perhaps, he should follow her.

Just so keep her safe.

~~~~~~~~{@

The streets were filled with rushing bodies. Carriages being pulled by horses, wagons filled with goods being loaded and unloaded. Couples and children, running across the streets, up and down the sidewalks. Holding bags of delights that had bought from the near by stores. They seemed so pleased to see Christmas coming. Esme’s chests tighten.

Keeping the hood over her hair, letting her face be seen, she looked for a store, that would take her offer. It was tough walking threw the sidewalks, since the people there seemed to be in such a hurry. But her eyes caught a sign of the jewelry store in which the rose was. Checking the window to see if the rose was still there, laying in wait for her, she made her way inside. Burst of warmth wrapped around her frame, making her shiver a little before making her way to the front counter. Getting the attention of one of the workers.

He was an old man, his white hair pulled back neatly in a ponytail. Wrinkles lingered under his eyes and at the corners of his mouth, showing her the lines of laughter he must have had. He was dressed in gentlemen’s tux. He was a sale mans, not a maker. But that didn’t bother her. He gave her a kind smile before speaking. “What can I do for you?” She was slightly nervous, but she untied the strings of the bag from her hip, speaking softly, “ I was wondering, if you could buy these from me.” The man rose a white brow, but she opened the bag and let the sliver bells slip threw. His lips pressed together in a fine line, making her tremble in thought that he might not. “Their pure sliver.” Slowly the old man took one of the bells and pulled out what looked to be a looking glass. Placing it to his right eye, he looked at the bell, as if trying to see if she speaking the truth or a lie.

“If you would be so kind to wait here. I’ll go see what I can do.” Taking two of the bells from her pile, he made his way to the back room, leaving her with a dimmed hope that he would help her. Minutes seemed to move slowly by the time the man returned, placing the bells back down. “Well, they are real.” He muttered, before he waved his hand. “How many do you have?” Esme smiled happily as she poured the rest out slowly from the bag. “Fifteen.” He whispered, before he nodded his head. “I’ll give you Fifty franks for them.” She frowned then. She was still forty-five off from her goal. Biting her lower lip, she asked, “Could…You give me a little more?” The man rose a brow, before shaking his head. “Sorry Miss. But fifty franks is all I’m offering.” She trembled a little, how could she get the rest of the money she needed. A sad idea came to her mind, slowly she reached under her hood, causing it to spill back, letting her hair come into view. She touched her mothers’ clip. Perhaps, she could sale it… Her heart tightens. No, she couldn’t sale it. She couldn’t bring herself to remove it from her hair. But with a deep sigh, she whispered, “Alright. I’ll take it.”

When she looked up, the man stared at her in awe. She gave a little frown. Why was he staring at her in such a way? The sale’s man parted his lips, closed them then parted again. He wanted to say something, but just couldn’t. It was so strange. He never seen hair like hers. Red like flames with bits of gold. Truly beautiful. But he snapped out of it when she spoke to him, making him smile, muttering ‘sorry.’ Soon he took the bells, planning to melt them down and handed the money to the young lady. Who took it with a frown. Pity hit him, she seemed to need more then he could offer. He wanted to give her more, but her bells were worth the bills he gave. When she started to turn, he couldn’t stop himself. “Miss.”

She stopped suddenly, looking over to him, her fingers clinging to the money he hand given her, also clinging to the hood, ready to place it back on top of her head. “If you want. I can help you find some more money. If you like that is.” He saw the way her eyes lit up, her body rushing back to him. “What? What can I do?” The old man reached over, taking a lock of her hair. Her body jerked a little, in mere shock from his public touch. But he held the long lock before her eyes, which had slipped from her tangled bun. “I know a fellow. Who would pay you a good heap for your hair.” Esme gasped in shock. She could sale her hair? What an idea, she could cut her hair and get the money she needed. But she only frowned, reaching up touching the tangles. But… How much of her hair must she cut?

The old man saw the worry in her eyes, and he only let the lock go. “How long is your hair miss.” She bit her lower lip before replying, “Waist length.” With a nod, he took a note pad, writing upon it. “If you want, you could get a good price by cutting your hair to the mid of your back. It’ll grow back, that’s something you don’t need to worry about.” He teased, but he ripped the paper from the pad and handed it over. “Go to these address. There, a fellow name Nicolas will be. He makes wigs for the city. Talk to him and he’ll give you what you need.” She stared at him with mere shock before smiling. He was helping her. No one in France had helped her before. But with a nod, she took the paper from his hands. “Thank you.” She whispered. Quickly she slipped the money into the bag which once held the bells, tieing it back into place. “I’ll be back!” The man frowned at that, but he only waved at her, watching her yank the hood back over her head and disappear out the door. She was a comely young lady. He chuckled to himself. He wouldn’t mind seeing her again.
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Replaying Past