Twisted Every Way(Phantom Of The Opera Fic)

Chapter 30: Moonlight

Gustave had found a sort of refugee in his solitude, taking long walks along the roof of the Opera House by night and around the catacombs by day.

There's a sort of puzzle to all of us, the pieces scattered across our lives, in assorted places and people. 

He had known boys, children his age who were to be conventional companions. But they did not hear the music as he did, see beauty in sunsets or in clouds. They were too busy laughing to smile. 

She had such a way about her, what it was he didn't know. But he was certain he couldn't live without it. Not without someone else to give him perspective.

How slow these days passed, his father and mother with little time to spare.

But it didn't bother him, not anymore. Paris in the nightlight was the only parent any needed, its calm but firm voice guiding him onwards. 

Silence is so powerful when used to his advantage. in the silence, one can try to understand the nothing, find a bit of something in it. 

Eli's scar, Gustave knew, might have easily been his own. He had been chosen as representative, one day it would be his job to represent the family, carry it onwards. 

He did not think his story Romantic, some fable to be told as a legend for years on. Rather he saw it as truthful, a biography of life. 

He couldn't help but place a hand to the side of own face, running a finger along his eye line. How easy things changed, how easy all was lost. 

Ilios was to be beautiful like her mother, Eli quiet and talented no doubt like his father. And alone, in the quiet, Gustave felt he had inherited their silence. That in the moments in between speech his parents shared, where he was born, there to be alone. 

The music of the night, while within him had no hold over his soul. It did not fulfill him as it did his father. He longed for days in the sun.

He would decide tonight.

He would decide if he was to stay.

--------

"Christine," Erik whispered.

"Erik?" She smiled dreamily.

My Erik. She thought

"I love you."

"I know," She laughed, "You better, we're married."

"You regret it?" He laughed nervously.

She grinned weakly and pulled him closer to her. "Not for one moment."

"Christine," he sighed, closing his eyes, breaking free of his shackles and chains that had weighed him so long. "The moment I saw you, I knew you were stuck in a world of your own. You were so broken and no one seemed to notice. You laughed so hard, it was your way of making sure-"

"Making sure no one saw my pain," She finished. "Yes, Erik I know."

"My tormented Angel," Christine smiled, "I think I would rather like to dance."

Her husband smiled gently and turned over to face her, "Would you?"

"If you were careful as to not take the tempo too fast and were a gentleman while going about it."

Erik kissed her cheek tenderly, "Miss Daae," He sighed, "Aren't I always a gentleman?"

"That's when you were a lonely desperate bachelor," Christine teased running her fingers through his unruly mop of hair.

"And now you're a desperate married old maid." Erik teased, keeping his kiss locked up and waiting right on the corner of his lips.

"Desperate?!" Christine scolded with a frown, "Desperate for what?"

"Desperate for me to prove I love you," Erik said knowingly. "You won't believe me until we've been married forty years and all the children are grown and gone and I've kissed you a million times."

Christine laughed, "I'd believe it. Erik, you're too good for me. And it would be two million I suppose if we're being technical."

"I better start counting right now."

"Erik please, I hardly have the time-" She gave a startled laughing cry falling back into her pillows.

Erik raised an eyebrow and burst into laughter.

"You wanted to dance?" He noted raising her to her feet. 

She nodded, "Just as we used to."

Erik smiled. As a youth, he had spent many a day from Box five watching the ballets. Until one day the stage was set aflame in his heart. In a special scene adaption from a fairy tale, a prince and a servant girl waltzed gracefully across the room.

How he yearned to know how he could learn to fly as they did on music wings. 

He had spent weeks, months alone in his small dwelling, pacing the floor and counting beats. He waltzed alone. 

Now his arms wrapped around her waist and her forceful arm placed across his shoulder gently.

"Should I find Gustave to play some music?" Erik asked after a moment. 

"No, he wouldn't be there anyway." Christine smiled knowingly, "Besides,"

She turned her eyes into his, gazing into them happily.

"Besides, we've never needed music, not you and I."

She closed her eyes and felt his breath and heart in steady rhythm.

A rhythm that made the best kind of dancing.

One that swayed to the beat of happiness. 

To the beat of life.