Tremulous and Tender

BY : NataliaV
Category: M through R > Phantom of the Opera
Dragon prints: 7330
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera movie(s), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Part: 5/?
Disclaimer, Summary, Etc. can be found in part one.
Thanks: To my wonderful, beautiful… wonderful… tehe… beta’s, Kelsey and Sarah. Love you guys!
Apology: I just wanted to say sorry for how long it’s been since the last post. I’ve been using my free time to write like a madwoman. Chapter six should be within the next two days.

Christine slept with Erik’s sweet song in her head. She woke humming it some hours later. She looked over to the small mantel clock, making out that it was still nighttime.

She sat up with a yawn, wincing as she realized she was still in her clothes, corset an all. She quickly undressed, putting a robe over her nightgown and leaving her room. She followed the sound of Erik’s music.

She found him sitting at his organ, playing what sounded like a lullaby… a vast change from the violet, lust-filled music he usually composed.

She hummed quietly from where she stood a few feet from him.

Erik turned, looking up at her. He nodded once in her direction. She took that as an invitation, so she walked up directly behind him. He didn’t stop playing, but he did falter when she put her hands on his shoulders. After a few moments, he continued, not hitting any more sour notes.

Christine watched him write and play in awe. He would stop every few keys to write what he’d just played. He seemed so passionate, so content. And it became apparent to her, after some time passed, that he’d seemed to forget she was there.

She rubbed her hands over his broad, firm shoulders. Although he looked tense as he played, he was surprisingly relaxed. She began humming softly along with his music when he began playing it from the top.

When he finished the song, he put his quill down and tilted the uncovered side of his face to her.

“That was beautiful, Erik.”

Pink spread across his cheek at the compliment. “Thank you.” He reached up, taking her hand in his. The action forced her closer to him. He held her hands over his chest. Christine pressed her head to his, allowing the intimate embrace.

“Could you not sleep?”

“Not comfortably in my clothes,” she replied, “then I heard you playing. I can go… I don’t wish to disturb you.”

“You could never disturb me.”

Christine shut her eyes, relishing the tremors that flitted through her at Erik’s closeness and words.

The feelings that were stirred in her were foreign and new. Christine wasn’t sure how to react. She knew by conventional standards, she shouldn’t be dressed in so little around a man. In fact, she knew she should not be spending the night at his home without a chaperone, yet she did.

But, Erik was far from conventional, so conventional standards did not apply in the sanctity of the darkness of his home.

She knew she felt strongly for him. Perhaps even stronger than she’d ever felt when he was simply her secret and strange angel.

The heating of her blood, the yearning for what she knew not in her heart were all new. She felt so ridiculously young. Erik must be in his thirties at least. He would probably find it silly that she couldn’t sort her feelings for him. And what must he feel for her?

Erik released her hands to begin a new song. It was a strange, seductive tune that made Christine’s pulse quicken. Underneath her hand she could feel his heart beating fast and hard.

She rubbed her cheek against his silky hair and let her hands grip at the fabric of his shirt.

As he played his music, her thoughts fell on his mask. She knew something must lie underneath it, just what she did not know. It worried her for Erik. His face was surely the reason he lived underneath the Opera Populaire.

She’d almost asked Madame Giry about her relationship with Erik… how and why did she bring him to opera house? Something, which she herself could not put a finger on, held her back from doing so. Besides, the ballet mistress, though like a mother to her, kept to herself so much.

Erik himself had not seemed so keen on answering questions of his childhood. That one conversation of how’d he’d arrived at the opera was burned in her mind. The way he seemed to grow cold and angry. Not at all the kind, patient teacher he’d always been. She didn’t want to see him like that again. Most importantly, she didn’t want to dredge memories that might be painful to him up.

But her curiosity burned at her.

Maybe if he hadn’t made such a big deal about not removing his mask. If he had only just shown her his face himself…

She just had to know.

She moved her hand up, slowly caressing his unmasked cheek. With the other, she quickly pried the white mask from his face.


Review Responses:

Thank you guys so much! But… ummm… I swear I’m not gonna make a habit of it, but I’ll have review responses the next chapter! Just wanted to post this a.s.a.p. and I have to leave for work soonish. Sorry! ~Nate~


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