Gerard Butler Imagines

Dungeon of Despair⛓Erik Destler

"How can you be so cruel? I have known you far longer than Christine, yet you brush me aside as if I am no longer relevant to you. I have stayed by your side through countless phenomenons brought on by your all-consuming rage. I have supported your dream of writing music for the opera. I have shown you compassion when no one else would. This is my repayment? All I ask is that you be kind to me. Is that really so much to ask?"

The man in question remained silent, glaring at me through squinted eyes.

I would not avert my gaze. I had meant every word. Erik needed to see the error in his ways; Erik needed to understand how I felt. But of course, he rolled his eyes as if I were some petulant child whining over spilt milk and seated himself at the organ. He began to play a loud tune to drown out any words I would have spoken.

I was reluctant to leave. That was, after all, what he wanted; for me to leave. He had had enough of my words, and he no longer wanted me in his presence.

Realising I was still there, Erik ended the melody with a loud bang of the keys and stood up, fury evident in his motions. He turned to me, his fists clenched and shaking at his sides.

"Leave," he demanded. I remained resolute.

"I will do no such thing. For once, I am right and you know it. If it were not truth, you would dismiss my words with a smile and shake your head. You know it to be true, therefore you are in denial."

I had gall, that was for sure. Erik could easily overpower me and I could become his next victim. He most likely knew that as well, and it took all his restraint to stop himself from doing so.

"Go now!"

Because I was tiring of his stubbornness, and I had a survival instinct, I resigned myself to the fact that Erik would snap if I continued to prod. With a final sigh, I left the lair in despair.

All was for naught.

———

After days with no sign of Erik in sight, I had become disinclined to believe that he would come to see the error in his ways.

What Erik had done to me hurt more than anything—or anyone—had ever done before. And he would not swallow his arrogant pride for once to understand this fault.

At one time, Erik had doted on me. I was always near him, listening to him and his music with rapt attention. I hung onto every note, praising him for the masterful beauty of the simple melodies he created. He never failed to make me feel at peace with my surroundings. I felt as if I could let go of all stress and tension, and just allow the music to overwhelm my senses. I saw him every night without fail.

Before I even knew what was happening, I had begun to fall for him; it happened more so every time he glanced toward me, touched the small of my back, offered a tentative smile, chuckled at something I said, and every time he caressed the keys. My heart would quiver at the simple sight of him. Erik. I loved him.

When his attention turned to Christine, he began to shut me out of his world. Erik and I no longer held intimate moments as he would play soft melodies and I lean my head on his shoulder. He shared those moments with Christine. He lived, breathed, slept and sang Christine. No longer had he any room for me. He made it exceptionally clear that I was no longer in favour with him. Our last conversation was more than proof of that.

And so, I stopped my habit of searching for a semblance of his presence in the shadows. But of course, once I had no longer expected his appearance, he made one. A big one.

It was the masquerade ball. He stepped purposefully down the staircase, throwing Don Juan Triumphant at the feet of Messieurs Firmin and André, and telling Carlotta to learn to act, Piangi to lose weight, and Christine to return to him. He only glanced toward me before leaving in a cloud of smoke.

To say the least, I was absolutely furious. If Raoul did not manage to kill him, I would kill him—

—not really. My heart still quivered in his presence. I could never hurt him as he had done to me.

No matter how many times he broke my heart with his cruel words and cold gazes, I would foolishly return to him. Tonight was no different.

After his dramatic display at the masquerade, I sought him out as only I, a lovesick fool, would do.

Erik was, as usual, seated before the organ as melodies flowed from his fingertips. His eyes were closed as the sound enveloped and caressed him into a calm state.

I silently watched on as he played, waiting for the man to notice my presence.

After a few minutes, it was clear he knew I was there, and it was clear he was ignoring me.

I sighed in defeat. It would be no use to stand around any longer if he was going to act oblivious to my being there.

I had resigned myself to the fact, when his playing came to a stop, and the man opened his eyes.

Erik stood abruptly, taking long strides to stand before me. The man towered well above me, leaving me to look up into his face. I searched his eyes, but they remained unreadable.

"Why?"

I was startled by the abrupt question. What had he meant by "why?" I had no need to question further, as Erik spoke once more.

"Why did you come back?"

That was a loaded question. Why did I come back? Was it out of foolish love that I returned to him? Was it that I had a death wish? Why did I come back? Such a question warranted much thinking. I decided to tell him the truth. It would be hard, and he most likely would not believe me, but I had to.

"I love you, Erik. I have for a while now."

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but I shook my head. Wisely, he closed his mouth and allowed me to continue.

"I know you most likely find this to be unbelievable. How could I love you? What could I possibly see in you? Even after all you've done to me, how could I possibly have even a semblance of a feeling toward you other than hatred? In all honesty, I have no idea. It was never a conscious decision that I made one day; it was a slow occurrence, one which was unconscious, but there. My feelings for you are unshakeable. Even after all the pain you've put me through, my heart never fails to palpitate in your presence. My cheeks always flush, my breath never fails to become unsteady, and my pupils never cease to dilate."

I laid my heart bare before him. He was speechless. Why shouldn't he be? I had declared my love for him. No other human had done that before. Not even Christine had done that before. After all, she was head over heels for Raoul, which Erik knew; he simply would not put it behind him.

Erik simply pursed his lips and walked to the organ in silence, seating himself on the bench. He made no move to play it; he only sat before it.

"Leave me," he said quietly.

This time, I left.