Darling. (Erik/Phantom x Reader)

Twenty-Five.

Dormitory of the Opera Populaire.

***

Y/N opened the door to her dormitory, and found it full of flowers — bouquets in vases from wall to wall. There were candles a lit on several surfaces of the room — and Y/N's face alit in a smile and her eyes full of awe.

Erik, who she hadn't seen at first, walked into her view. He was dressed well, with a soft white shirt and pressed black pants. He held in his hand a single red rose with a black ribbon, and smiled softly — if not, nervously — at her.

"I thought I should deliver on that proper dinner..." He explained, his voice low in a whisper-like tone.

"Erik... this is beautiful," Y/N remarked, stepping into her room fully and shutting the door behind her. It was like a scene out of a storybook, "I am in awe."

"I'm so happy to hear that," Erik spoke in an exhale, sounding relieved, "Please, take a seat."

Y/N nodded and sat on her sofa, across from where Erik took his own seat, "Sh-should I change? I feel awfully underdressed for the occasion," She laughed, nervously.

His gaze softened on her, and she was struck by his adoration. "My dear... you're radiant. Radiant, as always. Tonight, your performance was especially breathtaking."

"Well, I had something to look forward to," Y/N smiled, "I knew you'd be waiting for me."

Erik stiffened at the comment for a moment, before lifting silver plate covers off settings on the table she had neglected to notice. Beneath them sat two plates of fresh pasta, topped with basil. Beside them were two glasses of white wine.

"Erik, darling..." Y/N smiled, "Did you cook this yourself?"

"Absolutely fresh, my dear," He responded, picking up his plate — prompting her to do the same.

She immediately began relaxing as they ate, as it felt more and more like their normal routine, if not much nicer. Conversation flowed as it typically did between them, with smiles and compliments throughout.

"I cannot believe you set this all up," Y/N remarked further into dinner, "I am undeserving of this..."

"'Undeserving'? I will not even entertain such ideas," Erik dismissed, eating, "You are deserving of the world — you deserve the entire globe at your feet."

"Well, I'm not sure I would enjoy all that," Y/N remarked with a smile, "I am most happy on the stage or at home."

"Two places where you excel greatly," Erik cheered to her, smiling, "Do you miss it?"

"Home? Absolutely... but father is visiting soon, on Tuesday. He and Charles — they are truly what I miss. Just seeing their faces will alight something in my heart... Erik, do you have any family?"

"No... no," He said, his voice still light, "Carriere is a friend, but that is all I have."

"You have me," Y/N whispered with a smile, "I may not be family, but I am... a friend."

"A 'friend'? You are my radiance," Erik smiled, placing his plate down as he finished his meal. Y/N did the same. "Allow me to tidy this up, my dear."

"Oh, Erik — please, I can," Y/N insisted, about to stand up, but Erik placed a hand on her shoulder to sit her back down.

"Do not lift so much as a finger," He instructed. She smiled as she sat back, allowing him to anxiously tidy the area around her. She sipped her wine gently, watching as he moved. He was entrancing, the way he moved in smooth motions, as if he was a shadow escaping the light.

Once he concluded his tidying journey, he anxiously sat beside her — instead of the aforementioned chair across from her. It caught her off guard as he turned to her, gathering her hands in just one of his own. She noticed now how large his hands were, and slender — a pianist's hands — but now, without gloves, she could see many knicks and scars upon them. He, in contrast, held her two hands and studied their smoothness.

Finally, he looked up at her, and they made eye contact. It was intense, and slightly intoxicating.

"Please..." He whispered, choking up, "I ask you... to be kind."

Y/N freed one of her hands from his grasp, and used it to cup his neck, gently pulling him towards her as she kissed him softly, just for a moment.

"Erik, you never need to ask for my kindness," She reassured him, "You have my heart, I swear."

He held his breath, and lifted his hands to his mask. She watched as one gently undid the leather straps holding it to his head, as the other supported it against his face. Then, he brought his hand down, the mask going with it.

What she saw drew her breath away. His face was black and yellow — sullen and sunk into his bones, as if his skin was stretched too tightly against his skull.

"Oh, my..." She exhaled.

He instinctual went to bring his mask back up but she placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. His eyes looked at her, in shock, as if he was waiting for her to do something else.

She, meanwhile, was studying the objective horror of his face. It did not look right, nor did it look healthy.

Gently, she brought a hand to his face, but did not touch his skin, rather her hand floated by his cheek.

"Does it hurt?" She asked, in a whisper.

"D-does... does it hurt?" He repeated.

She nodded, "May I... touch your cheek?"

He nodded, and gently, Y/N planed her palm against his cheek. His skin was rough and dry, like parchment, but warm against her. She felt him lean into her hand, as if attracted to her touch. He closed his eyes, as if to savor the moment. Y/N couldn't take it anymore, and simply threw herself into his lap, pulling his torso into her own. She hugged him close, so that he was leaning against the sofa, and she against him.

Slowly, she felt Erik's arms wrapped around her waist, holding her close and in place. Then, she felt him gently shiver, as if crying.

"Y-you're not scared?" He asked after a while of holding one another, Y/N against him in a state of dedication.

"I suppose..." Y/N leaned back, look at his face once more, "It... it looks painful."

He stayed silent, reaching for his mask again and lifting it. Once again, Y/N stopped his hand. He looked at her questionably, and she closed her eyes as she pulled him in again, kissing him. This time, her nose did not press up against plastic. She kissed him, gently but passionately, as she felt him drop the mask and his hands found their way around her head and neck.

As the kiss deepened, Y/N found herself pushing her hips closer to his torso, effectively straddling his lap. She could feel him trembling under her as a result, and it felt both dangerous and fulfilling.

Finally, he pulled away and reached for his mask, securing it on his head before she had time to protest.

"This is leading to dangerous territory," he warned, his hands suddenly in the air around her. He seemed scared to touch her again.

Y/N blushed as she moved off of him, knowing he was definitely correct. "Apologies, Erik... I just lost control of myself for a moment."

"Trust me," Erik said, "You have nothing to apologize for... if I was a more selfish man, I wouldn't have stopped you."

Y/N smiled to him, taking his hand and kissing it, "Well, I suppose this is good night?"

"You suppose correctly."