A Heart Misguided (Phantom of the Opera)

Chapter 8 - Dreams Crushed

Christine's POV:

Erik held me against him and I sighed happily. I remembered with disgust the time that I recoiled from his touch. He wasn't a monster. I had been living in my own little fantasy. I had been looking for a princess charming with perfect looks and wealth. Well, Erik was a prince charming. He was of a different sort though. I finally pulled away and sat back down the on the bed. Erik sat beside me. He didn't seem to want to let me go. That was fine by me. I didn't mind. I twirled my ring and said,

“Erik, are we going to live down here?” He looked at me and said,

“If you would prefer we can leave. I can buy another house. I have the money. I doubt you would want to stay here. It is dark and damp.” I snuggled close.

“Nothing can be dark when you are around. And the dampness doesn't worry me as long as you are around.” Tears welled in his eyes and I wiped them away before snuggling closer.

“Than we will stay here. I have always wanted a normal home above the surface but that won't happen. I would be much more comfortable here. Besides, I have you. What else do I need?” He bent down and kissed my cheek. Sometimes he surprised me by how romantic he could be. Raoul had always the romantic one, whispering sweet nothings in my ear. But I knew these weren't sweet nothings to Erik. This was his heart. I leaned over and kiss him on the cheek. I couldn't ever be as sweet as he was but I would certainly try.

“When do we get married, Love?” I whispered in his ear. I could have sworn he blushed. It made a strange color on his cheeks, combining the red and the yellow. Not that I minded. It was a pretty color.

“Well, I know a minister who might be willing to marry us. He used to work at the Opera House. I scared him more than once. He will keep his mouth shut and marry us. Have no fear of that. Any man will be quiet if I pay him enough.” I smiled and held onto him like he was life itself. Suddenly I thought about something. Something we needed to talk about.

“Erik, what do you think about children?” He stiffened and pulled himself completely away from me. This wasn't going to be good. “Erik?” I asked quietly. He looked back at me and said,

“I like children. I always have. They are so innocent and beautiful. But I don't want any of mine. I refuse to curse them.” I bit my lip and tried not to cry. My dream had always been to be a mother. I wanted a family. I wanted sons and daughters. I wanted to have a full house. Erik must have seen my grief because he sat down beside me and held me.

“Christine, I don't believe I can properly take care of children. I am insane. I am a madman. Besides, the world doesn't need anymore who look like me. There will always be that chance. I am sorry, Darling, but I can't risk it.” I looked up at him and nodded.

“I understand.” I wasn't going to fight him. I could see why he wouldn't want children. After all, he had a point. No child should be raised in cellars of the Opera House. I looked at him and though I didn't tell him I knew he would be a wonderful father. He was kind and loving. But I wouldn't argue. I didn't want to start a fight. I would take him over children. I looked around and said,

“Erik, what time is it?” He pulled a pocket watch out of his pocket and said,

“Around seven in the evening. Why do you ask?” I yawned quietly.

“Because I am tired. I think this living underground is going to disorientate me. Oh well, I am sure I will get used to it. Do you mind we go to bed now?” He smiled and moved to leave the room. I grabbed his hand.

“Erik, you are not going to go back to that coffin. Here,” I patted the spot beside me. “We are engaged and there is only one bed suitable for living humans.” He just stared at me. I slipped under the covers and he finally smiled. He slid in beside me and I curled up against his chest. I quietly whispered,

“What day on we getting married on?” I could sense his smile.

“Would tomorrow be too soon?” I shook my head.

“It might not be soon enough.” I laid one arm over him and fell asleep.

Erik's POV:

I stared at the sleeping form in my arms. She was perfect. I twirled a stand of her hair around my finger and tried to push the pained expression when I had told her I didn't want children from my mind. She had looked so hurt. But she hadn't said anything. She just accepted that. I did love children. But I feared being a father. I feared I would hurt them. But secretly, I wanted a son to call me own. I would never say it though. I didn't want my child to face what I had to face. Yes, it was better this way.