Say You'll Share With Me | Phantom Oneshots

It's Only the Rain

when there's a thunderstorm in paris, meg is there to calm erik's nerves 

tw: panic attack

i'm finally writing merik (meg/erik) content!! maddiehatter- requested this sweet little fluff-filled oneshot, and i'm such a sucker for her merik fic 'only for you' (which you should definitely read, it's amazing) that she got me hooked on the ship, so here we are. enjoy!

~~~~~

He had tried to ignore it when it had started; the pitter-patter of the raindrops against the windows of their home had been almost soothing at first, inspiring him as he worked at the latest composition that had been occupying his mind, but when they got stronger and came along with bright flashes of lightning and loud thunderclaps, his anxiety had started to build at an almost exponential rate. He hadn't been able to focus on the sheet music in front of him anymore, his mind flooded with horrid memories of being left to cry alone in his mother's attic while thunderstorms roared outside, longing to be held in a pair of comforting arms and hushed or sung a lullaby, or when he was held captive in a tiny cage, completely exposed to the elements when it rained and the gypsies were staying put for the night. He could still practically feel the cold droplets beating down on him, soaking him to the bone and leaving him with only a chill to remember it by.

When his hands started to shake, he abandoned his composition, stepping out of his study as the room started to feel like it was closing in on him, almost constricting his ability to pull air into his lungs. He didn't want to wake his wife; he knew that Meg would scold him like there was no tomorrow if she found out that he had been struggling so much and didn't say a word, but he hated to bother her; with her work at the Opera House, rehearsing for hours at a time and then having to perform on top of that. And if her suspicions about a pregnancy were true...

He quickly banished that thought from his mind, already feeling it adding to the pounding of his heart. He had reached the parlour and had initially considered just sitting by the slowly dying fire, but the idea of sitting still was not an option anymore. He couldn't sit still when he was in this state, he knew that; that would only allow him to focus on how cold, clammy, and shaky his hands were, and with his wingbacked armchair, it would only make it feel like the room was growing even smaller than it already seemed to be. So pacing was the only option he had and it was the one he would go with.

He paused in that effort for only a moment to lean against the back of the sofa, trying to breathe in steadily through his nose and out through his mouth, but every breath was strangled and shaky, and just when he thought he might have had some semblance of a handle on it, a loud thunderclap practically shook the house. As he jumped slightly, a whimper slipped out of him; god, when was the last time he'd whimpered? He couldn't even recall, but naturally, the situation when that was all he did in the cage he was confined to on stormy nights such as these came to mind. Left in the cold, dark, rainy night, crying and quietly pleading with God to let his mother, as cruel as she could be, simply walk out of the darkness, free him, and take him home.

With a bright flash of lightning that lit up the room, closely followed by another roaring thunderclap, the shaking in his legs finally grew to be too much and he fell to the ground, pressing his back firmly against the back of the sofa as his breaths came in short gasps. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, his mask having been left behind in his study, to try and block out all the stimulation around him, almost as if not seeing the lightning would convince him that it wasn't really there. He realized the fault in his plan, though, when he still heard the roaring thunder, so he immediately pulled his hands away from his eyes to press them over his ears, desperate to keep any sound out that he could, his eyes still squeezed shut all the while. He pulled his knees to his chest and leaned his forehead against them, his breaths coming short and fast as he tried desperately to distract himself, but knowing that it was only inevitable that he would end up hyperventilating more than he already was and then the cold sweat would come followed close by tears and then...