Somewhere only We belong to | By : InfernalParadise Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 5209 -:- 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. |
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Disclaimer: As usual, only Seraphine belongs to me. Pity. The rest belongs to Gaston Leroux and/or A. L. Webber. I'm making no money off of this, either. This disclaimer goes for all upcoming chapters as well!
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I felt like Erik needed someone who is not as naive and innocent as Christine. Why not let the poor bloke have a happy life every hundreth fanfiction, too? ;)
Again, Erik just IS Gerry Butler (or the other way round), and it's rather based on the movie than the book. And my dear beta Lisa did some correcting on it, that's why the story is dedicated to her.
Please review - this story's supposed to have at least 8 chapters, so I need to know if you want me to post any further chapters or if I better hide somewhere from now on. *lol*
Btw, I forgot to beg for reviews for my other PotO story - so, if you come across "Forever after Tonight" and consider it worth any comment, please please review. Thanx!!
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Chapter 1
Confrontation of Rumors and Truth
Seraphine and Erik had been growing up like two normal siblings, taking care of each other. A deep love connected them although as time moved on, the age difference of eight years became more and more obvious. The former children developed into young adults, and their different paths of life seemed to threaten all that once had been between them and their substitute mother – Madame Giry, a woman who had found and raised them when both their real mothers had abandoned them.
Seraphine attended Madame Giry wherever help was needed, and considering her mother’s work as the ballet teacher of the Opera Populaire in Paris, a pair of working hands were always useful. Spending more time with Madame Giry’s only real child Meg now, the gap between her and Erik’s life revealed its dark, impossible differences. And Erik had become a creature on the brink of being notorious ad mysterious, indeed, for Erik was what even centuries later people would call “the Phantom of the Opera”. Living beneath the Opera, keeping a distance to anyone and anything, it was no wonder that those old memories of the happy childhood days spent with Seraphine lost their bright light and faded into dusty images of a time that seemed too far away to consider it having been real once.
“You shouldn’t go down to him”, Madame Giry told Seraphine yet again while fixing some of the ballerinas’ costumes.
“Because he’s dangerous? Or because you don’t want me to talk to him anymore at all?”
“The answer is yes to both your questions”, her mother sighed, but dropped her work then to look at the young woman in front of her. She was so different from her real daughter Meg, nearly having most features that Erik owned as well – such as those dark eyes and the hair of the almost identical color. But then again, Erik’s temper couldn’t be compared to her one. Same with his cruelty in some of his intentions and the menacing appearance he had. They might have grown up like two equal children, but their innocence had gone very different ways.
“He wouldn’t hurt me”, Seraphine tried to assure Madame Giry who shook her head, glancing at her with a rare severe expression.
“No one can ever know Erik’s ways and tempers. Especially these days… Don’t go down there again – that’s my final word!”
But living without the contact to Erik was impossible as Seraphine had always been used to him being around. To complicate things, however, her heart had developed a strange affection for him in the last five months, thus making life very painful for her. Wherever she looked, she found young couples around the Opera – almost as if all of Paris mocked her feelings. And still, the worst fact about her misery was that anyone knew of Erik’s love for Christine who was in a certain way as well a foundling to Madame Giry. Sharing many secrets with the young singer and considering her a sister-like friend, Seraphine didn’t allow herself to hate Christine since she wasn’t to blame for Erik’s emotions. Besides, she knew that Christine had secretly fallen for the Viscomte De Chagny – the new patron of the Opera Populaire – who obviously responded to the girl’s affection, but didn’t dare to confess his love. Anything was so complicated although it could have been easy. And somewhere in between Seraphine found herself angry and desperate at the same time because she knew that she’d never have Erik’s heart.
A few days after her short discussion with Madame Giry, however, the accident with Joseph Buquet occurred. While Christine chose to escape on the Opera’s roof with Raoul who understood as much as a fish on dry land, the audience continued with its hysterical screams, and the rumors about the Phantom of the Opera were as vivid as hardly ever before. Seeing that Madame Giry was occupied with soothing her ballerinas from the shock they had experienced on stage, Seraphine decided to pay Erik a visit. Whether to ask him if he had completely lost his mind or was up to cause a war against him was something she wasn’t sure of on her secret way down to him, and in fact she didn’t even know why she wanted to see him so badly for it was mainly her body that craved for him.
Erik was sitting in front of his organ, composing and correcting his score in an almost enthusiastic rage. As soon as Seraphine came to a halt a few steps behind him, however, he turned around. With his shirt half opened and the black pants it was hard for her to not close her eyes and imagine things that would make Christine blush madly.
“You’re getting more and more silent whenever you come down to me”, Erik said in a slight admiring tone, “I hardly heard your foot steps.”
“One must learn to be silent to survive.”
“In an Opera like this?”, he asked mockingly while opening his arms to show around, before his harsh voice snapped her out of her thoughtful state, “Now, enough with friendly words. You came because of Buquet, didn’t you? To ask me if I had lost my mind and probably to assure me that I deserve to live like this since I truly am a monster.”
There was one thing he was amazingly good at: making her angry. And during their common childhood, it had almost always ended bad for Erik.
“It sounds like you’re up for a little fight again”, she judged with a knowing smile while approaching him.
“I wouldn’t lose.”
“Your past speaks against you.”
“That was long ago. With teaching all those curious people a lesson, it should be clear that I improved.”
“No doubt you’ve improved”, Seraphine nodded as she finally stopped in front of him, “the question is just in which matter you did.”
His white mask turned his already dark appearance into an even more menacing one.
“You’re not that good anymore at trying my patience.”
“It wasn’t my intention to do so at all, either”, she explained bitterly which surprised him.
“Then what was your intention?”
The tone of his voice softened at those words and for one blissful moment she felt as if she could have thrown herself at him, telling him what had been on her mind for too long. But then again it was gone, she was able to hear the quiet flickering of the candle lights around her, and she knew it would never be any different than it always had been. Never more painful, never more desperate.
“Nothing”, Seraphine managed to bring out, mistaking his recognizable disappointment for a fake emotion.
“Nothing as it will always be”, she finally said while turning away from him.
For so long he had hoped – even with his abandoned trust in faith and fate – to experience this very moment. To hear her say that she loved him more than anything else just to reply the same, to hold her, to having her touch him and this deformed face he was cursed with. And if it were for only one little moment – he would have given anything for it… even his beloved music. But she hadn’t said it. And what a fool he must have been to believe someone could truly love him! The knowledge of being a monster and not deserving any better hit him like a cold wave again. Just looking at her body that would never belong to him – not for a single second – woke the rage of so many years inside his heart, and before he even realized what he was doing, he was behind her, turning her violently around and closing one hand around her neck.
“Say it!”, he demanded, supporting his want with painful pressure on her flesh, “Say I’m a monster! No one will ever love you, Erik – you will die alone and abandoned because who should ever want to touch such a deformed carcass? Tell me that’s what you’ve been wanting to say for years!”
His violent action caused quite the opposite of his intended effect for it was one of the main reasons why Seraphine felt so drawn to him. She didn’t feel fear around him whenever he was in a mood like that – she rather had to ignore the throbbing pain in her heart and especially the one between her legs that seemed to have awaited this very moment to make it all the harder for her.
Instead of the awaited answer, she pulled Erik closer towards her body and almost crashed her lips against his. The world could have disappeared that second because both of them were oblivion to their dark surrounding, the Opera above them and the quiet notes that escaped Carlotta’s throat in painful tones. Obviously, her toad-like noises had vanished meanwhile.
Erik pulled back after a while in need of regaining his breath and – as he was sure – reality. But this was real as she touched the well, unmasked side of his face with warm fingers, using her other arm to draw him closer to her body again.
“You fool”, she almost whispered and her voice sent various forceful feelings down his spine, “How could I ever call you a monster?”
“It’s not real…”, escaped his lips as if he was trying to wake up from a blissful dream.
With a smile returning to her face, she leaned forward to kiss him again, this time to be rewarded with a more active Erik who knew very well how to use both his lips and tongue. And although Seraphine knew he hadn’t ever had a woman before, she secretly wondered where he had learned to kiss like that. With their second kiss, Erik’s want for her returned.
The way to his bed turned out to be a difficult one as they wouldn’t stop doing what had been on their minds for too long. Finally they were forced to pull away from each other, though – at least for a short moment.
“You don’t do this because you pity me, do you?”, Erik asked, hardly able to control the lust in his voice.
“I’ve never pitied you, Erik. My reasons spring from a different nature”, Seraphine answered as they reached his bed. How many nights she had dreamt of its shell-assembling form, the red and black silk on it, her somewhere between, Erik next to her. If this was truly no dream, she just had to be drunk or hallucinating.
“A different nature”, Erik said while reaching behind her to open her black corset, “then tell me, which nature do your reasons rise from?”
He gently kissed her shoulder before returning to his former position, locking his gaze with hers.
“I’ve been loving you for the last five months, but you made it hell for me”, he frowned at her words, “All you had eyes for was Christine. I don’t know how I got over that time.”
“I’ve never loved Christine”, Erik confessed after a while, “because ever since I can remember you were on my mind. I don’t know who started those rumors about the Phantom being Christine’s ardent suitor. All I ever thought of was you… even in my dreams. You wouldn’t believe what I did to you there.”
A knowing smile crossed his face and she remembered her own dreams about him. He seemed to read her mind that moment, because his eyes glistered with joy at her slightly embarrassed grimace.
“You naughty girl”, he scolded her in a playful way, but pressed her gently against him then, “I love you, Seraphine. You supposed to be like a younger sister to me, but I’ve abandoned those thoughts long ago.”
With that he freed her from her corset and the long skirt, standing in awe as he hadn’t seen her in undergarment since she had been at the age of nine. She had developed very well, he decided, but got distracted by her fingers opening his white blouse and touching the bear flesh underneath.
A little change of dominance and she was on her back, lying on the bed of many blissful dreams.
“So beautiful”, he whispered before attacking her neck with his lips. The marks would be visibly for days, but none of them cared about the future for all that mattered was the moment they were in now. Another few movements and they were finally both freed from their clothes, still having a silky blanket between them. With a frustrated growl, Seraphine solved their little problem and had to stop breathing when she got the chance to take a look at Erik. Unlike the half of his face his body wasn’t deformed at all, but beautifully strong and of a darker color than her own skin. It almost seemed as if he spent his days under the sun, judging by the state of his tanned flesh.
Erik’s mask was still between them, although he seemed to be more afraid of taking it off than Seraphine herself. His weak protest didn’t stop her from her intention and slowly her fingers touched the edge of it. She had seen him years ago without it, but she truly couldn’t remember much as they had both been children by that time. Now, however, she didn’t feel fear when she finally pulled the mask of, letting it fall down on the pile of discarded clothes.
Erik’s expression had never been more painful, scared and terrified at the same time than this very moment. So that was it, he thought bitterly. She would push him away, would curse the disgusting ugliness of his face, would never come to him again. But when he opened his almost painfully tight shut eyes, she still lay there beneath him. Nothing had changed – there was no disgust in her eyes, fortunately no pity for him, either. The hand that had removed the mask came up again to stroke the rough flesh that had been hidden from the world until now. And it took all of Erik’s strength to not break into tears because of the love in Seraphine’s eyes and the devotion in her touch he had had to live without for so many painful years. The memory of the time with the Gypsies returned to him… the laughing and mocking words of people standing around the cage he was locked in… the hitting of the brutal Gypsy… the cruel laughter of that man… disgusted looks as the bag was pulled from his head to reveal the “devil’s child”… a sensation for many, no doubt… and the breathtaking feeling as he strangled the cruel Gypsy with the very rope he had used to whip him with before. It had happened so long ago and yet the memory appeared as painful as ever. Erik didn’t even realize he was silently crying during those unpleasant thoughts. Crying in front of others – a few hours ago he would have strangled whoever would have witnessed his tears for they were supposed to be lonely tears in the darkness where no one laughed at him or made a sensation of his deformed face. Fate had been cruel to him from the very beginning – or at least as far as he remembered. But in a strange way it had also led Madame Giry to him and thus Seraphine and a life in darkness that was lonely, but more or less safe.
“It’s the Gypsies, isn’t it?”, Seraphine finally dared to ask at the sight of his silent tears. Erik’s head shot up and his face regained its menacing expression even without the mask’s help.
“It’s the world”, he simply replied in a bitter tone.
“Who cares about the world? You are incredibly handsome, Erik”, she slightly covered the deformed side of his face with her fingers, “Did you ever look at yourself in the mirror without anger? You would see that you own a beautiful face – women would kill for those eyes and lips.”
She raised a bit to kiss him which he tenderly responded to.
“And about the rest of it…”, her fingers left the deformed side to reveal it once again, “None of us is perfect. Most may not suffer from the same as you, Erik, but it’s nothing that makes you a monster. We don’t chose the way we look like, thus all those other people who speak bad of you can go to hell.”
The answer to her words was a lovingly kiss – too lovingly perhaps because her body craved for more.
“I will, however, start calling you a monster, Erik, if you linger at this and don’t continue with what you intended to do in the first place”, Seraphine made clear, her body writhing beneath him in impatience.
Erik knew she had done this before a few times. The boy from the Opera’s stage worker group… God, how he had loathed that lucky bastard who had owned for six weeks what should have always only belonged to him. As for himself, the situation was new but not completely alien – you almost always caught some people making out if you knew secret places in the Opera. And Erik was a master at knowing all of them, thus he had witnessed many meetings.
With Seraphine moving slightly beneath him, he didn’t waste another thought on the situation anymore, but caught her lips in a most passionate kiss while his hands started exploring the soft flesh of her body. She used to be terribly ticklish during her childhood, and when she flinched a few times under his touch, he was told that this fact hadn’t changed much since then. Although already lying between Seraphine’s legs, he found the situation so unreal that he still feared it might have been nothing but a dream he would wake from any moment, with his body aching because of desire. But it was real, he finally realized when he cupped Seraphine’s breast, receiving a pleasant moan that couldn’t ever be that perfect in a dream. Repositioning himself again, he slowly pushed into her, not diverting his gaze from her face as she silently looked into his eyes with the purest emotion he had ever gotten from another person. If this was heaven, he would die happy just having glimpsed it, Erik decided.
His first thrusts were meant to be slow and gentle, but when Seraphine wrapped her legs around his body, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer, either. Her silently urging drove him nearly to the edge although during a long, love sharing kiss he wanted this moment to last forever. There hadn’t ever existed another world besides Seraphine’s soft moans, the scent of her body, the taste of her flesh, her hands roaming over his bare skin. This was all that counted, this for eternity. And Erik felt so closely connected to her soul that he could have wept with joy instead of releasing low moans from time to time, causing Seraphine to press him closer to him whenever he did so. No, the worker boy hadn’t deserved her… Feeling rage against this imprudent fool rising inside of him, he pulled both of them up into a sitting position, increasing his speed. Seraphine, however, seemed to be more than happy with his slight aggression as she locked her ankles behind his back once again and caressed his face while kissing it without distinguishing between his well and his bad side. The truth was she truly didn’t care about Erik’s deformation. She loved this man, Phantom or whatever people called him and the deformed side of his face – although she was about developing hate against the word deformed – was as much a part of him as his beautiful voice and the rest of his body that caused her so much joy.
Crying out her name and biting at the flesh of her throat, Erik released himself, just to feel Seraphine shudder shortly afterwards. Forgotten was the worker boy whose rather helpless attempts to make her reach her peak as well had only caused her to learn how to fake emotions and relieve a male conscience in bed. This, however, was true bliss and there was only doubt on Seraphine’s mind that any other man could ever make her feel like Erik.
With a content smile she fell backwards on the bed again, pulling Erik with her who seemed to be very blissful as well. After another couple of soft, lovingly kisses, Erik turned on his back, burying his hands in Seraphine’s hair as she rested her head on his chest. Although both of them were still heated, he knew too well how chilly his world down here was most of the time, thus he pulled one of the silky blankets around them, taking care that Seraphine was safely wrapped in it.
“I love you, my angel”, he mumbled against her hair and she raised her head to look at him.
“Where did you learn all that?”
“Learn what?”
“How to please a woman. You must have… well, rehearsed at least”, Seraphine tried to express it in proper words.
But Erik only gave her his beautiful, rare laugh before he shook his head.
“It wasn’t necessary to rehearse… As the Phantom, however, I will keep my secrets.”
“As the Phantom you are quite mysterious, indeed, Erik. Do you remember when I was at the age of seven and I hit…”
“… hit me so bad that Madame Giry had to lock you into the kitchen for half the day? Oh yes, I do remember. Please don’t strip my pride”, Erik explained with a playful offended voice, “I was eight years older than you and still you defeated me like a boy of my age. I never understood why you did it…”
Seraphine moved slightly until she lay almost on top of Erik. Her expression turned stern at his words.
“You told me you were the devil’s child and you wouldn’t stop scaring me by repeating it over and over again.”
“Well, I don’t remember having said that. But look at me”, he pointed at his face, “I am the devil’s child.”
“Fool”, she gently scolded him and started covering his face with kisses.
“My mother loathed me for it. Can you imagine”, he had to interrupt because his lips longed to respond to Seraphine’s, “giving birth to a child and seeing such a monster-like creature before you?”
“No mother would abandon her baby because of that”, she cupped his rough side with one hand, “You were alive and healthy – that’s what should count most at giving birth to a child.”
“Imagine you were with my child… wouldn’t you be terrified it could have the same deforming?”
Seraphine shook her head in an almost annoyed way. With a gentle, still firm grip Erik grabbed her chin to make her look at him.
“But if it were… what would you do?”
There was a short moment of silence between them in which Erik watched her lovingly, the passion in his eyes still present.
“I would love my child and its father. I could not and would not ever abandon such a tiny, innocent thing because of a feature that’s neither its nor our fault. Nature does strange things, but there’s a reason. If you were as any other man, I wouldn’t have ever met you. Perhaps you wouldn’t be a genius then, either. You have music in your blood, Erik – music that is truly a gift.”
Erik’s hand came up to caress her neck.
“I don’t know your parents”, Seraphine said after a while, leaning into his touch, “but no true mother would abandon her child just because it’s different. And I won’t ever understand people doing such things.”
“So fate has been cruel to both of us”, Erik concluded while kissing her neck.
“I don’t care about fate. I love you, Erik. That’s the only thing that counts for me.”
A smile appeared on his face, revealing his inner peace he had been searching for until today.
“I love you so much, Seraphine. I could spend the rest of my life making love to you or simply looking at you.”
“As for the first part of your suggestion – what are you still waiting for?”, she replied, pulling him against her again, receiving a small, but utterly amused laugh from the Phantom of the Opera.
Seraphine awoke to Erik’s lips caressing her neck. He didn’t appear half as exhausted as she felt, but then again his stamina of last night had truly been astonishing, making her not wonder too much about the very awake condition he was in. The rough side of his face rubbed gently against her cheek as he leaned his head against hers.
“Don’t you ever get tired, Erik?”, she asked in obvious surprise. He didn’t answer, but pulled away to look down on her.
“If I didn’t know it any better, I would guess you’ve been doing naughty things all night”, he finally stated with a hidden grin.
“What makes you think so?”, Seraphine asked completely innocent.
“You look like you did.”
“Just in case you wish to release another clever guess, my dear boy”, she pushed him gently away and wrapped one of the blankets around herself before getting up and looking down on him with an almost scolding look, “I’d highly commend you to leave. The Phantom will be mad when it finds out what we did in its bed all night anyway.”
And leaving him behind, she left the bedroom and went for the lake around most parts of his home to wash her face and hands. Erik’s scent still lingered in the air – and probably anywhere on herself. Their numberless love-making had varied from tender touches to almost painful passion, confirming her thought that she and Erik were very alike. He would never truly hurt her, but he had a dark side that longed to be released from time to time. She couldn’t quite tell which side of him appealed more to her for both caused her pleasure as well as the knowledge that he loved her with all his heart.
After having washed, she turned around to find Erik standing in front of the organ, wearing only his pants and the white mask. He seemed to enjoy the little game she had initiated shortly before.
“How dare you coming down her? You should know that no one has ever returned from the Phantom’s domain”, he said in a harsh tone, flashing her a menacing gaze.
“What happened to all of them?”, Seraphine asked while feeling a slight, yet arousing chill at his sinister appearance.
“They found an unpleasant end – except for the female intruders. I keep them as my obedient slaves until I grow tired of them.”
He truly was a genius, she decided – even when it came to acting.
“How kind of you. Since I take it this will be my last moment of freedom, you wouldn’t deny me a final plea?”
“You may wish for one last thing”, he generously granted her, watching as she approached him.
“I want to see what’s behind the mask.”
Seraphine wasn’t sure whether his cold expression was still part of the game or already reality, but when she wanted to lay one hand on his mask, Erik’s hand shot up to grab her wrist before she could even touch his face.
“Why without the mask?”, his voice sounded surprisingly gentle, “Why do you want me to take it off?”
“Because the real you is underneath it. I don’t want it to be between us.”
“It’s not between us, Seraphine – it’s for us.”
The grip of his hand softened as he stroked over the caught wrist with his thumb.
“You really believe I’d rather want you to wear it?”, the tone of her question showed both her unbelief and slight anger, “Erik, I love you. There’s no need for your mask when we’re alone.”
With an almost annoyed move of her free hand she ripped the mask off of his face, stopping him from trying to cover the deformation beneath it with his own hand. Erik was undecided whether to feel fear or hate that moment, still he didn’t move but watched as Seraphine touched his face in the same way she had done with the rest of his body during the last night. In her eyes he could almost see himself as a normal man if it hadn’t been for the dark atmosphere around them that reminded him of the bitter truth.
“It doesn’t scare me nor does it disgust me in any way”, she made clear, her body pressing close to his, “And as much as I have to admit that you wearing it while being the Phantom turns me on, it’s still the real you who I’ve fallen for. The real Erik with all his outbursts and tempers. Let the past behind you for most memories won’t ever change into pleasant ones. I’ve never thought of you as some kind of a monster – not even during our childhood – and I won’t ever do it, either. All I want is a life with you… and frankly I’d even be happy if I were only your mistress whenever you call for me.”
Erik swallowed hard at her words as he realized how kind fate had turned on him. To prove his own affection for her, he grabbed her face with both hands and brought his lips down on hers.
“Don’t ever leave me”, he whispered between desperate kisses, “I couldn’t move on without you now that I know what I would miss for eternity.”
“I won’t”, it was hard to soothe him in his vulnerable condition, “And how could I ever be able to anyway?”
One of his hands found a way underneath the silky blanket still wrapped around Seraphine’s body, and Erik couldn’t resist touching her just to feel her warm skin under his fingers. He longed for her as he had never wanted another woman before, he realized at his body’s immediate respond.
“Down here?”, he managed to bring out between two long kisses that made both of them squirm with need. But before Seraphine found herself able to speak, he spotted one of the antique tables he used to place most of his candles on. With a forceful move of his hand, Erik brushed the flickering lights aside, causing some of them to fall on the floor. He brought Seraphine down on the now almost emptied table, trying to not be too rough as he laid her on her back. Another few quick, but skilled movements and he buried himself deep inside her. Stars danced in front of his eyes and when his vision became clear again, he saw that Seraphine had risen to hug him tightly.
“Are you alright?”, her warm breath against his ear made him shiver.
A mere nod was all he found himself able to do before he thrust forcefully into her, feeling waves of pure pleasure flooding through his veins every time their bodies pressed against each other, allowing Seraphine to capture his lips in a passionate kiss. There it was again – this feeling as if their souls shared an unknown, yet strong music that connected their keepers even closer.
Regarding their passion and heat Erik would have expected their love-making to end soon, but his body endured and he released shortly after Seraphine’s second climax that came so forcefully she had to cling to him for support. Both breathing heavily, she brushed a few strays out of his face and smiled at his utterly satisfied expression. During their love-making he had shortly worried about hurting her, but a sore pain on his back that derived from her finger nails reassured him that a little amount of violence attracted her as well.
“I hurt you”, she stated in regret as she saw him wincing.
“Don’t worry… I quite enjoyed it”, he soothed her with an almost naughty smile, nuzzling her face.
Warm fingers came up to caress his neck, and he couldn’t hold back a quiet moan when one hand lingered on the deformed side of his face. Seraphine was still pressing her body against his bare chest when she rested her head on his shoulder, giving Erik the possibility to hug her tightly.
“I love you”, he said while grabbing her chin to make her look at him. Just by now he noticed how tired she was in fact.
“You’re exhausted, my angel”, a soft whisper came to her ear.
“I’m happy – I could die”, the answer came as she closed her eyes. All she wished for was a little rest, feeling Erik’s skin on hers and not having to think of tomorrow. A smile appeared on his face as he remembered last night that had been quite exhausting, indeed. He couldn’t even explain why his own body showed only little fatigue, but rather had to calm it down with all his might when a small stir of Seraphine awakened his desire yet again. Something was definitely not right about him, and if things were to stay like that he’d live happily ever after, he decided.
Covering Seraphine with the silky blanket he had lain her on, he scooped her up into his arms to carry her back into their now common bedroom. She soon had to return for Madame Giry would worry otherwise, but he disliked the thought of being alone again. He wanted to keep her like the treasure she meant to him, doing anything she asked him to and spending each moment of their shared time with making love. As for now, however, his body told him he needed rest from their common activities, too, and Erik was more than willing to give in – at least for a while. Seraphine who had already been asleep opened her eyes again to find him staring down on her, his head propped up on one arm. Only mouthing the question “what”, she cast him a smile before raising her hand to caress his face. A soft sigh followed her action.
“For more than thirty years I had been denied the joys of the flesh, but now it feels as if I’ve always known them.”
“I hope that isn’t regret in your eyes”, she said while curling up against him.
“How could it be?”
His fingers played with her dark hair. For a moment he lingered on the imagination of having a child with her, silently wondering what it would look like. It wouldn’t have the blond locks like all those noble aristocrats, no doubt, since it would be blessed with a darker beauty – maybe even an equal passion for music, he hoped. No little rich thing to be raised among money and dozens of servants, but to be raised in love and the safety of two strong parents.
“What are you thinking about?”, Seraphine asked as she felt him smile under her touch.
“About last night, you, … about a lot of things, I suppose.”
“A resting mind is a peaceful mind, Erik.”
He drew her closer to his body, inhaling the scent of her skin.
“Wise words from the Phantom’s mistress”, he playfully mocked at her, but she rose to look at him with obvious fake surprise.
“I didn’t know you own humor somewhere inside you.”
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me”, he informed her, showing a mysterious smile.
“Such as?”
A thoughtful silence followed her question until Erik shook his head and stroked Seraphine’s neck.
“Go to rest and don’t wonder about it”, he simply told her, watching as she retook her former sleeping position as close as possible to his body.
“Seraphine?”
“Yes?”
“Do you fear me?”
Once again, she sat up, but her expression turned into a stern one as she looked at him.
“You mean because of that?”, one hand lingered on the deformed side of his face, stroking the rough flesh there in a loving way.
“Yes”, he covered her hand with his own and leaned into the touch, “Because of this. And because of what I am… what I do.”
“Erik, this”, a slight pressure of her hand emphasized her words, “is nothing to be feared.”
How often he had longed to hear those words from at least one of the people standing around the cage the Gypsies had kept him in then. But none of them had been granting him a moment of inner peace – no one except for Madame Giry who had just stood there, the pity and sorrow in her eyes hurting him more than the beating he had already endured for so long.
Seraphine’s arm came around his neck as she placed kisses on the deformed flesh – not the tender ones she used to give him there normally, but kisses in a passion and want she had only shown when meeting his own lips. And in fact, there was nothing so much different about this side of his face. Clearly, it didn’t feel smooth and soft as the rest of his body did, but it was a part of him, wearing Erik’s scent and tasting like him.
In the very beginning, he had been afraid that she might touch his face only to soothe him or avoid his rage. But judging by her kisses and fingers dancing over his skin, his worries had dissolved into joy about her honest feelings for him. If she continued her truly arousing caressing, however, he feared that no rest would be found at all, thus he raised his arms to catch her hands, forcing her to lay down once more.
“You might find me doing things to you that won’t allow you any sleep”, he explained, while hugging her tightly to his body.
“As if you cared…”
“I do, my love.”
He pressed a gentle kiss onto her lips that got willingly responded.
“I didn’t answer your whole question”, she mentioned then.
“True. So, do you fear me because of what I do when I’m the Phantom of the Opera?”
In a dramatic movement, Seraphine pushed him away to turn on her back and pull the blanket up to her chest.
“Dear God, why didn’t you tell me you are the Phantom?”, she asked, emphasizing her convincing theatrical behavior with a gasp. Erik showed a truly amused grin as he secretly wondered what aroused him more – the fact that he damn well knew she was naked beneath the blanket or her beautifully faked helplessness.
“Why cutting the fun short on my behalf?”, he replied while letting out a deep growl and throwing himself at her. And she still was terribly ticklish, indeed, although she begged him to stop, but her please subsided in both their laughter.
“Oh please, Erik”, tears ran down Seraphine’s face as she tried to get out at least one intelligible sentence, “whatever you want – but please quit doing that!”
Taking her by the word, he stopped his delightful torture and drove into her to release his painful arousal once more. An awkward silence followed his rather unexpected action and both were only looking into each other’s eyes without a movement.
“I want you for what you do, Erik. The threats, the killing… it’s perverse, I know, but I can’t help it.”
Seraphine’s voice sounded very distant as she finally spoke and raised her arms to lock them behind his neck. Was there regret on her mind as she realized the truth about herself, Erik wondered briefly. Then again, they both had been raised more or less in darkness, always aware of the cruel, merciless reality around them. And a depraved world it was where they lived in, indeed. Erik didn’t kill for fun, but to simply survive and keep the pathetic life down here in secret. People did similar things each day only to be praised by others and gain honor. No, he wasn’t a careless killer. He just was an exact planner when it came to dangers that threatened the way he used to live.
“You don’t fear me”, it was more a statement than an actually question.
“No.”
“But you like me doing this to you”, he said as he grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head, punctuating his words with a few forceful thrusts, “You like me having power over you when I possess you.”
A frustrated moan from Seraphine’s lips about the following pausing of his body told him that he was right. Softening his grip on her wrists, he pushed his free hand beneath her to lift her hips a bit, all the time never taking his eyes off her. He remembered the day when he had first seen her as a young woman and no more innocent child that used to take its joy in scaring him by jumping out of dark corners in the Opera. She had been seventeen then – a few weeks before that uneducated brat of a stage worker boy had shown up. Erik had never before felt such an inner relief than after the idiot’s depart. Another day with that moron touching what belonged to him in his dreams and he wouldn’t have recoiled from getting rid off the boy by killing him. Those days had shown him that he wasn’t immune to the deepest human emotion for jealousy as well as rage had driven him almost mad, causing him to destroy half his home beneath the Opera. It had also been since that time that Madame Giry had started to separate her two foundlings more and more from each other. She must have already had a guess about the origin of his wrath then because most things going on in the Opera could hardly be kept hidden from her. But as much as she had always felt responsible for Erik, she knew that he was able to take care of himself while Seraphin had still been a young girl then. Erik wondered how she’d react if she found out about them. And frankly, it was nothing more than a matter of time.
Without warning, Seraphine’s body tightened around him in a shiver and he couldn’t stop but stare down at her in a mix of surprise and pure bliss. A slight blush covered her face under his gaze.
“I’m sorry”, she said embarrassed, “but it was your fault.”
Only then he realized his right hand had been caressing her inner thigh while his thoughts had drifted of. Instead of a response, a grin appeared on his face. She looked even more beautiful than usual after reaching her peak, he decided, gently thrusting into her twice before his own release caught him off guard.
“And that was only your fault”, he scolded her, still grinning.
“Clearly I can be blamed for your body’s action. The mask must have damaged your brain”, the response came back quickly, accompanied by a soft slap against his head.
“Now, now – don’t try my patience. It truly was your fault because you look overwhelming when you’ve just come.”
“Which leads us back to the fact that it was your fingers getting me there.”
“It’s a pity with this stubborn head”, Erik sighed, pulling her against him, “Whatever… I don’t want to hear a single word from you anymore until I tell you otherwise. Get rest.”
“You…”, but her no doubt protesting sentence was cut short by Erik’s lips sealing her own.
“I love you, my angel, but try to sleep for we both need rest.”
Closing his arms around her to pull her to his body, he kissed her forehead, feeling her smiling contently under his touch. Here I am, Erik thought with strange amusement before sleep took him over, the Phantom of the Opera acting like a fifteen year old boy who’s in love for the very first time.
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