Phantom's Fate 《Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction》

18

A/N: Two updates tonight! I hope you guys are enjoying the story. Let me know how you are feeling ♡

Enjoy!

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For the next couple days, Erik submerges himself in music; not the light, melodious music we make together, but confused, dark tunes that disturb my sleep and haunt my dreams. My heart is heavy knowing that Christine's return has made such an impact on him, which means he still has some sort of feelings for her, even if they are simply betrayal and resentment. I can see his fluster plain as day when we carry on with daily tasks, such as chores and dinner. He mutters to himself or spaces out, which bubbles concern within me. I don't dare pry, though, to not spark his temper. He knows I am always there, so he should come to me with any grievances without hesitation...right?

If only it were so easy.

Tonight had been especially rough. Erik's concentration was exceptionally fragmented, resulting in spilled cups, frequent tripping over nothing, and ear-bleeding notes that shook me to my core. Ayesha even hid at the ear piercing sounds. Now, the night is still young, and Erik is fast asleep in his room, unusually so. I lay on my own bed with Ayesha, staring at the ceiling as if answers would form themselves on the tiles. None appear. I sigh in disappointment.

A disturbed groan roams through the walls, reaching my ears. For the last hour, I have heard him toss and turn a few times, something sounding like my name echoing down the hall, then he falls silent for a while. Now, it seems, he is succumbing to a sensitive dream, which quite possibly could be a nightmare. The thought sends a shiver over my skin. I remember having countless nightmares about some twisted form of my ballet accident. His brain may be randomly incorporating Christine into a nightmare, which arises even more distress in me. Gripping my hair with a sigh, I pull myself from bed and glance back toward the curled kitten. "You can have the whole bed, bean," I say and start toward his room.

I can't let him sleep like this. It's too painful to hear.

As I open his door, my presumptions are proven correct. Erik, with his mask still on, lies in a heap of his blankets, his mouth contorted to a trepidatious grimace. His hands clasp desperately to a pillow that resides within his arms. The sight forces me to turn my head, feeling my stomach churn. Seeing him like this makes me want to cry, and it's not even my nightmare.

"Mnng..." he groans and turns over, his mask moving ever so slightly. It would be wrong of me to see his face without his conscious permission. Turning away, I step forward to leave, but his voice catches me. My eyes widen. "A...lia," he mutters, and I bring my gaze to him. His eyes are still closed, his arms closing tighter around the pillow. "Ah...love..." his hands ball into fists, and his face morphs from desperation to sheer alarm. "N-no!" His writhing commences again, the pillow flying from his arms and landing near my feet.

I take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself. My hands gingerly gather the pillow, and I make my way to the other side of the bed, setting the pillow back neatly. Erik's body still twitches, pain etched into his normally tranquil features. Oh, I can't look, I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, exhaling slowly. But I must. I can't...leave him like this. I open my eyes again and slowly draw the blanket down. Carefully, I slide onto the bed, tucking myself under the blankets and moving closer to him. My heart is in my throat.

Am I doing the right thing? He won't wake up and freak out on me, right? My head buzzes with a thousand worries, but as soon as my arm slips around his chest, my concerns melt away. Erik's body immediately starts to relax, a trembling sigh passing through his tired lips. I will my eyes to behave and not become curious to his face. After all, I have a good idea of what it could look like, but I would never want to betray his trust and observe without permission.