All I Ask [Raoul x Erik Mpreg]

One

"Impossible...It-It cannot be..." Erik mumbled, his raspy whisper dancing in between gloved fingers.

"I'm afraid I speak nothing but truth, Erik..." Madam Giry sighed heavily, avoiding the Phantom's clouded gaze – clouded with anger, sorrow, fear...She cleared her throat. "I had similar ailments with Meg, I...I'm sorry..."

"In...In what way is this probable?!" Erik's voice rose alongside his temper as his fist slammed into the sturdy arm of his chair, making Madam Giry flinch.

"Monsieur, I can assure you that petty anger will not solve this!" She snapped, her fingers pressed to her temples. She simply did not have the energy for this.

"Explain this to me and I shall be content!" Erik cried, "How?" he asked again, his patience wearing thinner with each passing second. Madam Giry took in a breath, her hand returning to her cane, which rested against her armchair.

"Well, it seems as if your..." she searched for the proper word. "...deformity...has always been more than skin-deep, Monsieur...I hope you understand what I mean..." The masked man nodded, balling the lining of his cape in his fist.

"Oh, I do, Madam...." He breathed tersely, his hold on his cape tightening. If his knuckles were showing, Giry would see how ghostly pale they became from the grasp. "I do...and I hope you understand what I'm  about to do." He growled through grit teeth, his ire rising as he picked up his cloak, gathered by the corner. Madam Giry knew what this meant. Erik was a man of theatrical departures, after all.

"Erik, Wait-!" She called, but before those words even escaped her lips, the Phantom of the Opera had disappeared.

***

"Oh, little lotte, do not be so discontent! You did perfect, as always." Raoul beamed as he gently brushed Christine's hair, each curl bouncing back into place as the brush swept over them. Christine let out a weak chuckle, her shoulders bobbing.

"Thank you, Raoul, but I almost lost my footing over my dress...several times..." She sighed, glancing at the dense costume draped over a chair in the corner. Raoul scoffed, setting down the brush.

"I never noticed, therefore nobody else did." He smiled, tapping near his temple. "I have an eye for these things, little lotte." The pair giggled quietly to themselves.

"You're too kind to me, Raoul." Christine's grin faded as she continued to speak. "...but you have best be getting to rest soon...my Angel is quite finicky about such things..."

Raoul gave an airy chuckle, "How has your 'Angel' been, my dear Christine?" He asked, earning an outbreath from the singer.

"I haven't seen or sensed him for weeks...he must have left the opera house..."

Much to his dismay, Christine was correct – whether he was hiding or was, in fact, missing was beyond him, but the opera house hadn't seen any problems ever since the Phantom had vanished. Andre and Firmin were ecstatic; their cast was still in one piece, after all.

"Since he has gone, can't I stay with you longer?" Raoul asked, his forearms resting on the arm of Christine's chair. The singer reluctantly shook her head.

"I'm sorry Raoul, but I must..."

"I see..." He leaned forward, giving Christine a quick kiss on the hand, "I shall see you at tomorrow's show. Goodnight, little lotte." He smiled, securing the dressing room door behind himself. Darkness immediately engulfed his vision and he began to regret not borrowing one of Christine's many  candles. Luckily, he had decent bearings on the opera house's arrangement, so he began to walk, his mind wandering as much as he was.