Persephone's Angel

Noël

Chapter Twenty Three: Noël

--* "Jesus, bloody Christ!" Erik growled, throwing down his song book and grasping his ears; we all stopped singing as he paced angrily beside his seat. "If we are to sing in the Christmas show we must harmonize!" Erik hissed, turning on his heel and staring

vitriolicly at each and every one of us; he paused on me and sighed, shaking his head and turning away once again. It had been three weeks since the little episode with M. Devere and the waves of the lake; Erik never did explain to me why the lake did what it did.

Nor where the Persian was.

He only comforted me and spoilt me; he bought me jewelry regularly now, and, we went out together when we could. Planning the wedding and being our new instructor was guzzling up his time. He wouldn't allow me to help him plan the wedding that would take place a few months from then (I never knew the exact date, it kept changing so I stopped asking); he would only pat my hand and give me a kiss on the cheek. He told me he didn't want to stress me about it; yet, he was having a stress surfeit. And it killed me to see him like this.

He was almost always angry now; whenever I saw him in a professional setting he would run his fingers through his hair and sigh, grit his teeth and bark out orders. When he came home he would still be reeling from earlier that day; he would vent to me as I prepared our dinner (I wanted to try and start cooking; I was of age to) and sometimes, if the day was exceptionally trying, he would snap at me.  Erik loved peaches, and so, earlier that same day (that he snapped at me), I made a special trip out to the market and bought him two, large baskets of peaches that were half my size! Abelia had to help me drag them back!

Erik always needed a snack when he arrived home; for, he was always hungry when he got home.

I cut up three peaches and put them in a bowl along with some butter and heated it up, sprinkling cinnamon on top of it; I knew he would love it! I left the bowl on the counter along with his coffee and began working on that night's dinner, which, I believe we munched upon Chicken Fricassee with Tarragon; Abelia recommended that I try making it, she said it was easy enough.

When he came home, he looked like he had been through a war; he was weary and struggled to stand, his eyes were alight with wrath and his fists seemed permanently clenched.

He ate the peaches and sighed afterwards, but, he kept quiet, which was very odd to me. "Persephone?" He asked.

"Yes, my wonderful angel?" I asked with a smile; he gave a slight smile, but I could tell something was terribly wrong.

"Could you, please, make me a coffee?"

"Coming right up, manager" I said with a wink and a giggle; kissing his cheek and attempting to walk back into the kitchen, but, Erik’s expression froze me in my tracks; he was standing to his full height with his hands clenched by his sides, his eyes were shut tight and I could tell that under his lips, his teeth were gritted.

"Persephone Kardine" He hissed, it seemed that all of the air in the room was depleted in that moment, and an appalling feeling took up a home in my gut. "Don't you ever call me a manager ever again, do you understand me?” Said he, I could tell that he was attempting not to blow up, but in vain he tried this; “my god!” He cried his eyes shooting open; he turned from me and threw his long arms into the air in exasperation. His cloak swirled with his body as he raged.

“I am never to be one of those ignorant buffoons! How dare you even think to call me that? Why in the devil would you even compare me to such clotpoles? How dare you?” He turned back to me and held his pointer finger inches away from my nose, his eyes spat fire at me; his muscles pulsed in his rage, he was silent for a few moments and his anger began again.