Categories > Books > Phantom of the Opera > Of Phantoms and Vicomtes
Of Phantoms and Vicomtes
0 reviewsChristine can only watch in horror as her angel falls, and though she manages to find her voice, her fiancé doesn't listen. If she wasn't torn before, she definitely is now. She can't just let the...
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The fight had begun much too fast, her mind struggling to catch up and truly register what was happening to her. While it seemed that Raoul had more experience, the masked man had more rage and was much more resourceful. She unconsciously took a step closer as they moved further and further away from her, trying her best to keep an eye on what was happening. Things seemed to come to a head when the phantom slipped and fell onto the snow covered ground. Raoul approached and kicked away the other man's sword before raising his own, clearly intending on ending it then and there.
A shocked gasp tore from her throat and she managed to find her voice, "Raoul! Not like this." She pleaded. Raoul glanced over at her and maintained eye contact as he thrusted the sword downwards without hesitation. Christine barely registered the guttural groan that left the other man, followed by a small gasp as the vicomte removed his sword a moment later. She couldn't concentrate on anything, she wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel. All she knew was that she felt much too warm despite the cold air. There was also a distinct feeling of walls closing in on her despite being out in the open. She felt light-headed but she couldn't allow herself to faint.
Raoul put his sword away and his features softened as he noticed the panic over taking his little Lotte. He slowly approached her, stopping a few inches away from her. "I'm sorry. Christine. This needed to be done. Now we're free of him." He murmured, raising a hand to rest it on her cheek. Much to his surprise, there were tears in the dark eyes that he loved so much. She backed away from him, wrapping her arms around herself as if trying to comfort herself. She was trembling greatly, unable to make direct eye contact with him for too long.
"Don't touch me." Christine ordered, the strength in her voice surprising even her when it so obviously felt like the world was falling to pieces around her. Even Raoul seemed surprised, but he relented easily enough, though he was clearly saddened by the fact that she was upset with him. He nodded and said something about her knowing where to find him as he trudged to the waiting horse. Christine didn't have the heart to follow him, not when she could hear the Phantom's pained breathing. At least he was still breathing. Who knew how long he'd be doing such a thing if she didn't do something or try to do something at the very least.
She approached him carefully, her steps hesitant. He didn't seem to notice her, one hand pressed tightly to his abdomen. She noticed that he was attempting to push himself into a sitting position one handedly. She rushed over and immediately wrapped her small hands around his bicep. His blue-green eyes flicked up to meet hers and he stiffened, staring at her apprehensively. Before he could speak and try to send her away, she found her voice once more, "Angel! Please let me help you." She implored. The apprehension grew before an admittedly heavy sigh.
"I'm not an angel. You should know that by now. However, I do not foresee being able to get to my home under my own power." The Phantom relented, though his tone was icy. It made his shiver more than the weather did. It was a great contrast to how warm it had been when he had serenaded her. Christine nodded and with much effort, managed to help the weakened man to his feet. They didn't speak as they headed towards the opera house more slowly than either of them would really like.
if the trip to the opera house, it had been nothing compared to the trip down below. It was sheer force of will that was keeping the Phantom on his feet, even Christine was aware of this. She was much too small to really support his weight. As soon as they crossed the lake, he turned towards her and offered the hand that wasn't covered in his blood. She delicately took it and climbed out, squeaking and trying to steady him when he stumbled. It was unlike her teacher to be anything but graceful. He waved her off and forced himself to walk a little further before he took seat, another stuttered sigh leaving him.
"Go get the needle and thread." The Phantom commanded, the breathiness taking some of the bite out of it unfortunately. Thankfully, Christine complied anyways. Removing his upper layers was hardly something that he wanted to do around his little songbird, especially not like this. But he had no other choice. It took him longer than he would like but he managed to do so with marginal grunting.
When Christine returned, he took them from her and laced some of the thread through the eye of the needle. This wasn't ideal, but it was his only option. He had done this many times on his own. Not only was this simply a fact, but it was likely that she would faint if he even tried to ask her to do so and that would be counterproductive. There was another soft squeak from her when he began threading it closed as best as he could manage. He ignored it for now and continued, hissing every now and again.
Before he could even ask, she scurried away and returned with alcohol before he could even demand it. He was surprised that she had managed to find where he stashed it but he was thankful nevertheless. He opened it and poured a generous amount over his wound, withholding a scream as he did so. His pain tolerance was high but he hadn't been entirely prepared for his own actions. He leaned back heavily against the back of the chair and leaned his head back as he tried to regain control over himself.
"I...I.. think I should stay with you for awhile, just to help you out." Christine's timid voice broke him out of his daze and he could only look at her apprehensively. He wanted to turn her away, to tell her that he'd be taking her back to her fiancé. But at the same time he knew that he'd need some help and having assistance would make things much, much easier- as much as he loathed to admit that. Besides...perhaps he could find a way to win her over, but he didn't have much hope. She was already agreeing to marry another man. That was something he shoved to the back of his mind, though.
"Very well. However, if you insist on sticking around, I must insist that you call me Erik." He informed and he tried to ignore the way her facial features brightened. He also tried the way she seemingly whispered his name to herself. It meant nothing. She was still young. She was just happy to learn a secret. That was all.
A shocked gasp tore from her throat and she managed to find her voice, "Raoul! Not like this." She pleaded. Raoul glanced over at her and maintained eye contact as he thrusted the sword downwards without hesitation. Christine barely registered the guttural groan that left the other man, followed by a small gasp as the vicomte removed his sword a moment later. She couldn't concentrate on anything, she wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel. All she knew was that she felt much too warm despite the cold air. There was also a distinct feeling of walls closing in on her despite being out in the open. She felt light-headed but she couldn't allow herself to faint.
Raoul put his sword away and his features softened as he noticed the panic over taking his little Lotte. He slowly approached her, stopping a few inches away from her. "I'm sorry. Christine. This needed to be done. Now we're free of him." He murmured, raising a hand to rest it on her cheek. Much to his surprise, there were tears in the dark eyes that he loved so much. She backed away from him, wrapping her arms around herself as if trying to comfort herself. She was trembling greatly, unable to make direct eye contact with him for too long.
"Don't touch me." Christine ordered, the strength in her voice surprising even her when it so obviously felt like the world was falling to pieces around her. Even Raoul seemed surprised, but he relented easily enough, though he was clearly saddened by the fact that she was upset with him. He nodded and said something about her knowing where to find him as he trudged to the waiting horse. Christine didn't have the heart to follow him, not when she could hear the Phantom's pained breathing. At least he was still breathing. Who knew how long he'd be doing such a thing if she didn't do something or try to do something at the very least.
She approached him carefully, her steps hesitant. He didn't seem to notice her, one hand pressed tightly to his abdomen. She noticed that he was attempting to push himself into a sitting position one handedly. She rushed over and immediately wrapped her small hands around his bicep. His blue-green eyes flicked up to meet hers and he stiffened, staring at her apprehensively. Before he could speak and try to send her away, she found her voice once more, "Angel! Please let me help you." She implored. The apprehension grew before an admittedly heavy sigh.
"I'm not an angel. You should know that by now. However, I do not foresee being able to get to my home under my own power." The Phantom relented, though his tone was icy. It made his shiver more than the weather did. It was a great contrast to how warm it had been when he had serenaded her. Christine nodded and with much effort, managed to help the weakened man to his feet. They didn't speak as they headed towards the opera house more slowly than either of them would really like.
if the trip to the opera house, it had been nothing compared to the trip down below. It was sheer force of will that was keeping the Phantom on his feet, even Christine was aware of this. She was much too small to really support his weight. As soon as they crossed the lake, he turned towards her and offered the hand that wasn't covered in his blood. She delicately took it and climbed out, squeaking and trying to steady him when he stumbled. It was unlike her teacher to be anything but graceful. He waved her off and forced himself to walk a little further before he took seat, another stuttered sigh leaving him.
"Go get the needle and thread." The Phantom commanded, the breathiness taking some of the bite out of it unfortunately. Thankfully, Christine complied anyways. Removing his upper layers was hardly something that he wanted to do around his little songbird, especially not like this. But he had no other choice. It took him longer than he would like but he managed to do so with marginal grunting.
When Christine returned, he took them from her and laced some of the thread through the eye of the needle. This wasn't ideal, but it was his only option. He had done this many times on his own. Not only was this simply a fact, but it was likely that she would faint if he even tried to ask her to do so and that would be counterproductive. There was another soft squeak from her when he began threading it closed as best as he could manage. He ignored it for now and continued, hissing every now and again.
Before he could even ask, she scurried away and returned with alcohol before he could even demand it. He was surprised that she had managed to find where he stashed it but he was thankful nevertheless. He opened it and poured a generous amount over his wound, withholding a scream as he did so. His pain tolerance was high but he hadn't been entirely prepared for his own actions. He leaned back heavily against the back of the chair and leaned his head back as he tried to regain control over himself.
"I...I.. think I should stay with you for awhile, just to help you out." Christine's timid voice broke him out of his daze and he could only look at her apprehensively. He wanted to turn her away, to tell her that he'd be taking her back to her fiancé. But at the same time he knew that he'd need some help and having assistance would make things much, much easier- as much as he loathed to admit that. Besides...perhaps he could find a way to win her over, but he didn't have much hope. She was already agreeing to marry another man. That was something he shoved to the back of his mind, though.
"Very well. However, if you insist on sticking around, I must insist that you call me Erik." He informed and he tried to ignore the way her facial features brightened. He also tried the way she seemingly whispered his name to herself. It meant nothing. She was still young. She was just happy to learn a secret. That was all.
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