Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera. Seriously. Author's Note: I leave for college on the 27th (*crosses fingers and hopes all goes well*) AND my birthday is the 31st, so, suffice it to say, updates shall be quite irregular for a few weeks. Sorry! Anyway, much love and many thanks to those who have reviewed thus far; enjoy! Feedback: Feedback is addictive, I'll admit, and I thrive on it. Therefore, keep it coming! :) *Raoul's POV* I paced anxiously in my study; the three oafs I hired were due to arrive at any time; if, that is, that damned demon hadn't killed them all. It was no big loss if he had, however; there are plenty of fools willing to sell their souls for a few francs in this city. The telltale knock came suddenly, an affront to my train of thought, if a welcome one. "Come in," I beckoned eagerly rushing towards the door, "do come in!" I suddenly felt like a child in a candy shop, all excitement and no mind for consequences. They walked in; triumphant. Their clothes were torn, the signs of a fierce struggle. In the dim light, I thought I could see bloodstains, but, there was no way to be certain from a distance. Undaunted, I silently convinced myself my suppositions were accurate. "It's done," the lead man said, his lips curling into a thin, twisted grin. "Are you certain?" I said, drumming my fingers against the solid walnut of my desk and staring at him intently. He had the aura of a murderer, which thrilled me and terrified me all at once. "Nearly positive, Vicomte," the man said confidently, "if he lives, it is by a miracle alone." "Good," I said, nodding my head feverishly with a broad smile, "excellent work, Messieurs." "Now, Monsieur, it's time to live up to your end of the bargain," the man said, stepping forward menacingly and greedily extending a hand. He smiled at me; and it send chills down my spine. "Of course," I said, tossing him a large purse, "you'll find payment in full in that satchel, as dictated by our original agreement." "A pleasure doing business with you," the man said after counting the colorful bills, "if you need our services again, you know where to find us, Vicomte." "Certainly," I said, as they walked towards the door, "Goodnight." As the door closed behind them, I sighed in relief, and sank heavily down onto a chaise. A small laugh escaped my lips - the Phantom was dead, and Christine had nowhere to turn but to me. Tomorrow, I would go to collect my fianc�, but tonight; tonight it was enough to sit and savor my victory over darkness. *Christine's POV* "Christine," his voice came from behind me as I stood in the kitchen preparing tea, "you should rest, yourself. You've been fawning over me all day." I smiled, but didn't turn to face him. Trying to sound indignant, I replied, "Oh, and you haven't enjoyed it?" "In fact," he said, walking slowly towards me, "I have enjoyed it immensely, but that, my dear, is beside the point." "I see," I said, turning towards him, "you shouldn't even be out of bed, you know, and yet you're lecturing me on my sleeping habits." "You seem to forget," he said, smiling, his arms encircling my waist, "I heal quickly, and you've been through quite an ordeal." "Apparently," I sighed, and he laughed, "But that doesn't mean you should press your luck, Erik. You should rest." "As you wish," he sighed, releasing me and limping back towards the doorway. I followed him, carrying a tray of his Russian tea. Of course, I wasn't quite sure if I had made it properly, unfamiliar as it was. I had to muffle a laugh as I imagined Erik drinking my adulteration of is tea and feigning enjoyment of it. When we reached my room, I placed the tray down on my desk and helped him into bed. He leaned back against the pillows, and I retrieved the tray, and set it on the nightstand. I poured him a cup, and handed it to him. "You need to drink something," I explained simply. He nodded and took the delicate teacup from me. Sipping the liquid within, the exposed portion of his face contorted momentarily, and he took a deep breath before saying, "Thank you, Christine." *Erik's POV* I could feel my face contort, and I somehow controlled the reaction before it progressed to all out choking. It was unbelievable that someone could turn tea into, into. . .whatever that was. I inhaled deeply, and said, "Thank you, Christine." "You don't like it. . ." she sighed. "No," I protested, against my better judgment, "I do, I truly do! See?" I took another sip, finding it slightly more palpable as I knew what to expect, "It was just hot, that's all." "Oh," Christine said, smiling in relief. She sat down on the bed beside me, and the words began to tumble out, "I tried to feed Ayesha, but she wouldn't let me come near her. Actually, she almost bit me twice so I just left some food by the door of the study in a little bowl. Also, I tried to clean up a little, because, well, Raoul's 'friends'", her teeth clenched at the mention of his name, "left quite a mess. I didn't get to far in my efforts, though, they did a lot of damage, and it will take sometime to get your house back in order." "Alright," I said, "so what's really bothering you?" "Raoul is going to find me missing soon, Erik, and he will know where to look for me. You aren't safe here. . ." She said, concern flashing in her eyes. "Is that what you think?" I said, taking her hand in mine, and looking her in the eyes confidently, "I can take care of the Vicomte." "But, what if he sends more thugs?" She asked, slightly comforted, but still distressed. "I can handle them, too," I said matter-of-factly. She moved closer to me, and wrapped her arms around me; her actions took me by surprise. Slowly, I placed my arms around her, and she rested her head on my shoulder. "What are you going to do to Raoul, Erik?" She asked almost unwillingly as she closed her eyes. I turned my head away from her for a moment, not wanting to answer her question. "Sleep, Christine, you need to rest." "Promise you won't leave me?" she yawned. "Of course," I said, feeling suddenly tired myself, as I drifted off to sleep. To be continued. . . |
| Light in the Darkness |