Blood & Glitter in Paris (Phantom of the Opera/Labyrinth)

Chapter 9

Christine looked up at Erik's masked face and they just stared at each other for a moment. It was like there was a sheet of glass between them. A sheet that kept blocked all sound and froze them as they looked at each other. Reddish gold eyes locked with blue as both tried to think of a way to start the conversation. Erik broke the staring match by holding out his hand to her, hoping beyond hope that she would take it.

Christine looked at his slim hand and took it without hesitation. It was cold but she ignored the cold. This is the man I love. I will have to learn how to handle his odd quirks.

Erik's hand held hers lightly, as if it were a feather that would disappear if he held it any tighter. Christine gave him a gently smile and gripped his hand tightly in hers. Erik's hand shook a tiny bit but Christine squeezed it lightly.

His heart stuttered and it took all his mental strength to say calm enough to lead to the living room. Once there, he gently released her hand and she sat down with that confounded smile still plastered on her face. Erik couldn't understand it! If she had heard everything, why she would be smiling. Anyone with any common sense would have been terrified of what she had no doubt heard.

Erik knelt before her on the floor and looked down at the floor. He reminded Christine inordinately of a loyal dog sitting at his master's feet. As much as she didn't like his action, she wasn't sure how to fix it. Finally, she had decided the best way to begin talking,

"Who was that you were talking too?" She asked quietly. Erik looked up at her and almost smiled. It wasn't the thing he thought she'd say but at least this question was easily enough answered.

"Jareth, Goblin King." Christine's eyebrows knitted. He hadn't looked like a goblin. She thought goblins were horrid little creatures. Nothing like the blond-haired, blue-eyed, tight-wearing gentleman that she had seen in the living earlier.

"His a goblin?" She asked. Erik shook his head. Though he sometimes is just as annoying. He thought to himself before responding,

"No, he's a Fae. That's like an elf." He added when he noticed Christine's baffled expression. That instantly made more sense to Christine. That pretty-boy look that Jareth had had was very fitting for an elf.

"I see." She said softly. "I gather you've known him for a while?" Erik nodded and again lowered his head, focusing on her boots and the carpet.

"He and Erik have been friends for over a century. He saved Erik's life when he was new-made vampire." Christine was instantly grateful for Jareth's action in Erik's life. Next time I see him, I'll have to thank him for saving his life. Christine reached down and took his black-gloved hand in hers. Erik's eyes widened slightly and he stared at their joined hands as if it was an alien sight.

She felt the quiver coming from his body and knew she was treading on uncertain territory for him. Quietly, so as not to anger him, she asked,

"Who was she?" Erik's head snapped up and his eyes burned angrily.

"She Erik would prefer not to talk about." Christine nodded slightly and he lowered his head again, slipping his hand from hers. He wasn't good enough to touch her in way, especially something like holding her hand.

"I understand." She said softly as she reached down and touched Erik's shoulder. He pulled away and crouched lower to the floor. Why is she touching Erik? She shouldn't! Something as pure as she shouldn't touch a thing like Erik.

Christine's heart broke a little more as Erik pulled away. She had to tell him soon that she loved him. That way he would rejecting her touch. She wanted to touch him, to comfort him, to hold him.