The Demon's Child and the Phantom

Chapter 13

Erik's POV:

I had felt the insanity growing as I thought about what the gypsies probably put her through, but one soft look from her and I found it slowly disappearing. I froze again as she moved closer to me after I took her hand. I expected her to move further away or to let go of my hand not move closer. Next, she slowly lays her head down on my shoulder and I feel my entire body tense for a moment before seeming to relax entirely underneath her head.

She doesn't move and neither do I. Neither of us it seems are used to being comforted or close to someone without experiencing pain or punishment and I think we are both confused as to what to do. In the least I am confused at what to do and scared at the idea of her running from me if she ever sees the ugly monster hidden underneath the mask. We sit like that together for a few minutes before we hear Daroga calling for us across the black lake. I almost hate him for interrupting this moment but it had to end eventually.

I stand up and keep her hand in mine as we walk to the boat and climb in. I'm forced to let go of her hand to pick up the oar, but her eyes never leave mine as I row us through the small lake and to Daroga. I bid them both goodnight before disappearing into one of the tunnels and watch them leave through the front doors. I find myself smiling as I walk back to the tunnels and then I realize it's been weeks since my heart has ached for Christine. I smile again as I sit down at the organ and start composing a piece of music for my Rose.

Rosella's POV:

I think that I have feelings for Erik, more than friendship. He's always so kind to me, even if he's in a foul mood. He makes me feel better with his music. It's only been a few weeks since I've started visiting him in his home but I can't help but want to smile when I'm around him. His voice when he speaks, entrances my mind and my soul. His very presence is enough to make my heart flutter in my chest as if it had wings. But every time he makes my heart flutter he makes it hurt too.

I can only imagine that he's still in love with Christine as I've heard how beautiful and perfect she was. She was truly his angel of music, with the perfect voice and face to match. I've even seen a few sketches of her that he has in his home, and it breaks my heart knowing that he could never love someone as ugly and damaged as I am. The Demon's Child wasn't meant to fall in love with the Angel of Music.

I had gone to bed early tonight thinking of him, with a small smile on my face and a pain in my heart at the same time. My sleep didn't last long though as I was woken by nightmares of my past, of people screaming and gasping at me in the cage the gypsies kept me, and the crosses being burned into my skin on a weekly basis. The hot iron of the metal cross making contact on my skin for each new town, each new show on those horrible nights.

I tried going back to sleep but it didn't work and I gave up a few hours before sunrise. Daroga noticed the circles under my eyes and tried to get me to stay home, but I knew that I wouldn't feel any better staying there alone. He must have known it as well because it only took me one time of saying I wanted to go to work and to see Erik, for him to agree to let me go. I started for the passageway to wait for Erik at the water, as soon as I finished helping Madame Madeline with the costume repairs. In just a few short minutes he was helping me into the small boat. We didn't talk much as he rowed us across but it was a calming silence.

He helped me out of the boat and I swayed on my feet some as exhaustion hit me again. I didn't even blink as he quickly wrapped his arms around my waist and he stared at me with those golden eyes of his. My heart fluttered as he looked at me with those swirling irises of his, but I force myself to remember that he isn't mine to love. His heart is with another for more beautiful and pure than I could ever be, not to mention I don't deserve to have such an angel in my life. Angels and demons were never meant to be together the way I wish we could.

"Rosella, did you sleep last night?"

"Only a little."

"Why?"

Erik's POV:

"Nightmares."

I listened to her whispered answer as she stared at me, and I see the far away look in her eyes as she looks at me. I can only imagine what horrors of her past kept her awake last night. I keep my arms around her waist as I lead her to the divan and sit down next to her. She doesn't lean away like I expected her too, like any normal woman would do, instead she curls closer to me into my chest.

I cautiously start rubbing her arm and realize that this is a first for both of us. She hasn't looked away from me once since I've met her with the boat, and I haven't touched a woman like this ever in my life. Not even with Christine who always fled from my touch of any kind. I cherish this moment only for a minute or two before I decide to see if she will tell me more about the horrors that kept her awake last night.

"What were the nightmares about Rosella?"

"People screaming and gasping and....... my past with the gypsies.......I couldn't sleep after that."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Would you....no, it would be considered improper. I'm fine."

"My Rose, you have but to tell me and whatever it is you desire, it will be done."

"Would you take off your gloves and hold hands with me?"

"What?"

"I know it may be considered improper, but please just this once."

"You.....you want to hold Erik's hand without a glove?"

I watch as she turns toward me and I see a faint blush on her cheeks as I stare into her tired eyes. She looks down but then looks back up at me and slowly nods her head. I move both hands near her and she takes them into her hands before she slowly takes off the gloves. I close my eyes as her gentle fingers begin peeling the cold leather away from my death-like hands, waiting for the gasp of disgust or scream at my scarred yellow hands but it never comes. Instead I feel the most amazing feeling of her hands gently tracing all the scars with her soft fingers.

"Erik....where did the scars come from?"

"Erik punched a mirror when he was seven."

I feel her lift my hands in hers and then my eyes snap open in shock as I feel her lips place a gentle kiss on the back of each hand. My heart could have stopped as I felt her lips on my skin, imaging how it would feel on my lips though that was a forbidden thought. I watch as she looks up at me and the blush returns before she gently lets go of one of my hands, keeping the other intertwined with her own as her eyes begin to close again.

"Erik may I stay here with you for a while and rest?"

I nod my head a bit as I watch her slowly close her eyes as she lays against my chest, her free hand curling into a tight grip on my shirt. I watch as she falls asleep before taking my hand out of hers and slowly wrapping my arms around her and picking her up. She doesn't open her eyes but both hands are now wrapped in my shirt as I carry her back to the bed she slept on that first day. I lay her down but can't get her to release my shirt. I decide to do something very dangerous then. I lay next to her and she curls back into my chest on her right side.

I look at the curly hair covering the left side of her face and I gently run my bare fingers through it, thankful she isn't awake to flee my hideous hand touching her. But....she didn't act like it was hideous she even......she even laid a kiss upon the disgusting hands that don't even deserve to be touching her right now. I keep running my hand through her feather soft hair, allowing myself this moment of pure joy, as I watch her sleep peacefully. I'm trying to figure out why she was so willing to touch me.

She doesn't wake up as I keep my fingers caressing her curls and I look at her face, as if for the first time since I saved her. She looks healthier, with her skin a pearly sheen to it instead of the deathly white color. Her cheeks even have color, especially when she blushes. I wish I knew why she blushed so often, as she did earlier when she asked to touch my hands. She needn't have blushed for being so willing to touch the hands of a demon of the night.

I hold her in my arms and think about these past few weeks. I've played for her almost every day and the days I don't play for her we have begun to talk to each other. I had to release some of my anger after that day we talked about our pasts. She talked about her past abuse as if it was nothing to her but it lit a fire of anger in me so deep I feared killing someone in the Opera house. I was angrier at her abuse than I had ever been at my own.

I wrap my arms around her a bit tighter as I think about everything she's been through and I feel her sigh in her sleep. I smile a bit as I look at her again. Her face is beautiful, perfect even if her eyes are two different colors they are just as beautiful. But would she think the same thing about mine? She says we are friends, but could we ever become more than that? Could she love a man born with a face to scare the devil?

I sigh along with her in her sleep, as I feel my eyes close, as I hold her. I find myself drifting off to a peaceful sleep for the first time in days with an angel in my arms to keep the horrors of sleep away.My last thought being that this is the first time I've ever held a woman that wasn't screaming to get away, and that thought alone makes me smile.