Phantom Of The Opera Christine x Erik One-Shots

Restless

⚠️ Warning!⚠️ Heavy descriptions of vomiting.
You have been warned, enjoy.

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Erik was forced from his sleep when a strong jolt shot up his body like ripples of fire, his chest swelled getting tight he felt as if his airway was clogged somehow. He gagged after a long moment of agonizing numbness when air finally drowned his lungs.

Desperately taking in great lungfuls of air made him cough and hack at the unexpected intake. He squeezed his eyes shut when his stomach whirled uneasily, he threw himself up out of bed stumbling out of the room grunting as he hit the doorway in his drowsy state.

"Chr-!...Christine!" He cried out, hunching over with a grimace as that petrifying taste sizzled over his taste buds making every muscle in his stomach contract trying to force it all up. "God! Christine! Please I need you!" He shouted as he struggled to breathe properly.

He didn't even get the chance to make it to the bathroom before he lurched forward in the hallway, nausea clawing at his throat. He hated the sound of it splattering onto the carpet before him. His stomach contracted violently as the smell invaded his nostrils, he surveyed the mess with fear filled watery eyes making his stomach dry heave again.

Christine would not be happy about this.

Erik was just barely able to cling onto what little strength he still had using it to stand, knees wobbling as his weight was too much for them to handle so soon. His stomach had not completely settled yet and he wouldn't be surprised if he vomited again. He gasped, eyes growing wide as his foot skidded forward, but he jerked it back, he cringed. He would prefer not to give himself more of a mess to clean up. "Erik! My goodness what happened?"

He could feel his stomach drop when he heard her voice, his knees nearly buckled, he had no doubt in his mind if he hadn't had a grip on the bathroom door handle that he would have fallen flat on his face. Her voice was like blankets of silk being set over his tired run down body, but he did not deserve such pleasure. He pushed himself up, taking a little step away from the mess.

Christine stared at the puddle for a moment, the sight certainly wasn't pleasant and she honestly didn't want anything to do with it. But Erik probably didn't feel great about it either, he was the one who had thrown up after all. She took initiative. "I-I'll clean it up..." Erik mumbled turning his head away. "Erik, you're in no state to be cleaning up. Come on , let's get you some water. I'll clean up the mess" She slipped her arm under his elbow, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

Erik was about to protest and pull away from her. She would do nothing of the sort! It was his mess, he should not have to have her cleaning up after him. He was a grown man, as much as he loved Christine he didn't need to be babied. He could take care of himself.

But when another stomach whirling wave of nausea hit him he practically collapsed into her arms. Before he could even process all that was happening Christine had already opened the bathroom door, leading him inside.

He crawled hurriedly over to the toilet bowl, just in time as all the bile shot up and out of his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut as his stomach heaved again, not wanting to watch as he forced more remains of food up and out. And then he slumped, it was over and the room fell still.

He heard shuffling as she stood up, leaving the bathroom. Erik couldn't stop himself from whimpering softly in distress when he was left alone. He hated being alone, though he probably deserved it. He reached up to flush the rotten smell away as he couldn't handle it for very long. He fell back onto the bathroom wall, listening as she moved around in the hallway, no doubt cleaning up his mess.