The living corpse

Erik Garnier, 35. Roleplay Blog.

[justinharenchar]

Animals | Maroon 5

Yeah, you can start over. You can run free. You can find other fish in the sea. You can pretend it’s meant to be, but you can’t stay away from me. I can still hear you making that sound. Taking me down, rolling on the ground. You can pretend it was me, but no.

Baby, I’m preying on you tonight. Hunt you down, eat you alive just like animals, animals. Like animals. Maybe you think you that can hide. I can smell your scent for miles just like animals, animals. Like animals.

[agothicstoryrpg-blog-blog-blog]

Everyone here at A Gothic Story would like to wish our lovely Kate a very Happy Birthday! Kate wonderfully portrays several of our Walpole citizens including everyone’s favorite Brat Prince. Have a wonderful day, dear. Don’t do anything Lestat wouldn’t do!

[scorpionandgrasshopper-blog]

A Walk In The Park || Erik & Christine

[swedishxsoprano-blog]

Christine had been rehearsing for the next opera for hours now. They had let her go sing her set but immediately afterwards, she was back in the dance studio and back in her ballet things. The rest of the dancers had long since left but Christine still stood alone in the studio, carefully moving up on pointe and beginning the routine again. She was meant to take the silent role - which she was fine with, it was a light comedy role which suited her fine - but she still had to know the dance, just in case of emergency. It came easily now, they had been rehearsing for weeks. Pas de chat. Arabesque. Up into attitude. Pirouette. Brisé. The moves easily came to her and she had finished once more. She really couldn’t stall leaving any longer. Sighing, Christine sat down, slipping her pointe shoes off and sliding her feet into more comfortable soft ballet shoes. She picked up her iPod and headed back to her dressing room, grabbing her bag. She was just about to leave when she spotted the note. She sighed and picked it up. Should she even bother going? When was it left? Surely she wouldn’t have time to change now?

Christine huffed, throwing the note to one side as she slung her dance bag over her shoulder, ensuring she had everything before heading out of the Palais. Her blonde hair wasn’t in its usual sleek waves. Instead, she had pulled back in a tight bun, with not even the smallest strand escaping. She still wore her black leotard, with a trench coat thrown over her shoulders to keep the cool breeze from chilling her sweat dampened skin too much. She spotted a familiar figure leaning against a tree and rolled her shoulders back before approaching him. “Hi.” She murmured, sliding her hands into the pockets of her coat and offering him a weak smile. “Sorry I’m late. We had dance rehearsal again.” She murmured, pulling one hand out of her pocket to gesture at herself, indicating her attire. 

[scorpionandgrasshopper-blog]

Erik was a generally patient man, but this was ridiculous. She always got out at about the same time, but it was getting really late now. He checked his watch, careful not to reach for his phone. Angels didn't have phones, and he didn't know whether she had figured out he wasn't an angel. Better safe than sorry in the end. He leaned against the tree, tilting his head back and letting his eyes close. He stayed there, for what felt like an hour before looking up. A trenchcoat was walking toward him. Right, Christine! He must've dozed off for a moment there. He shook his head a bit and smiled. "You're late." His smile was thankful and pleasant though, glad she was seeing him at all. He listened to her and cocked his head, his eyes inspecting her outfit. "It's quite alright, Christine. I know about the Opera, I just thought they would have rehearsed you before your set." He looked up at her eyes. The poor thing looked exhausted. "Come, Christine, you look tired." He almost began to walk with her, but remembered something. "Ah, pour vous, mon cherie." He brandished the rose with a genuine smile, just glad to see her.

He looked at her a moment more, trying to figure out what was okay, and what wasn't. He had tried being more conscious about that lately, but it was so hard. Could he offer his arm to her? Was that okay? He weighed his options, before speaking. "Christine... You said I should talk a bit more, and I must admit something to you. I'm not the best at reading signals and things. So, if I ever make you uncomfortable or cross a boundary, please tell me." His words were simple and eloquent, his voice soft and comforting. He had been thinking a lot about his life in Walpole, and he decided that he could try to be a normal person again, with normal social skills and normal relationships. But she was his only... She was the only person who he really talked to. He offered his arm, testing out the waters a bit. "Shall I walk you home?"

[scorpionandgrasshopper-blog]

A Walk In The Park || Erik & Christine

Erik was still a little shaken up from his last encounter with Christine, but it seemed as if they had both calmed down. A few days apart was a good thing for them, but he needed her now. He missed her more than anything, and while her words and actions definitely still stung, he was more than willing to put it all behind them. He had decided, as fall was fast approaching, that he should take advantage of the nice weather. Leaving a note for Christine in her dressing room, asking her to meet him in the park after her set. He could walk her home and they could spend a little time together outside of that dressing room.

He had switched out his normal "angelic" attire for something more suited to the outdoors. A pair of black slacks and dress shoes, with a white button down and a leather jacket with a hood. He didn't want anyone questioning her why she had been walking with a masked man, so he was attempting to cover his face from the outside world as he could. The night wasn't cold, just a touch crisp and it felt good in Erik's lungs. The night air in Walpole always tasted a little damp and smelled like earth and grass, not like New York. He leaned against a tree, twirling a rose between his fingers. She had seemed to forgive him, but he wanted to be sure. He looked down and his lips twitched into a small smile, remembering all the late night dates with her, her lips moving as she sung those beautiful songs, the way she seemed so happy at that rave. He couldn't ever be mad when she smiled, he had given up on that idea long ago. She had won his heart over, but did she love him? She must have.

[scorpionandgrasshopper-blog]

One of my life goals has been accomplished: Sold the car and I now own this gorgeous hell-raiser. :)

[swedishxsoprano-blog]

Forgive Me || Erik & Christine

[swedishxsoprano-blog]

The sick, roiling feeling lingered in Christine’s stomach, the dizziness remained as a veil over her eyes and the queasiness hadn’t yet subsided but she felt stronger now. The dull, haunted look hadn’t left her eyes at all but that didn’t matter. She tolerated the hollowness, welcomed it even. Feeling hollow was better than screaming and sobbing. She still shook violently where she stood, her arms crossed protectively across her midriff and clinging to the material of her tank top, her fists bunched up in the white fabric. But it was okay, for her hollowness gave her strength. It gave her the strength to stay on her feet, even though she swayed, and it gave her strength to will her tears to stop flowing so freely, until her eyes were entirely dry.

Without the flurry of emotions clouding her mind’s eye, Christine could look down upon her Angel, almost detached from his words. He had hurt her. She had hurt him. They were on relatively equal footing, although for once their positions didn’t reflect that. He sat at her feet, she stood above him, in every way, she looked like she held the power. But how was that possible when he was a celestial being and she was nothing but a singer? He had so much raw power and she was nothing but weak. No, she couldn’t hold the power under any circumsta- “What?” She breathed out, unaware that she had even uttered the word. He loved her? He loved her – the cruel creature who had hurt him so? A fresh wave of guilt hit her, only aiding to the haunted look in her bright eyes.

She lapsed back into silence then, her hands rubbing at her wrists subconsciously before she took a few steps forward, towards his crumpled form. She offered her hand to him quietly, a silent show of her forgiveness. She didn’t think her voice would be nearly steady enough to speak her forgiveness aloud. It was perhaps a bad idea to forgive him so fully but she couldn’t will any emotion back to her soul. Instead, she allowed him to have a second chance. She could practically hear her father’s voice telling her it was a bad idea to do such a thing. But then he had sent the Angel so he must have meant for Christine to persevere with her teaching. Before she could think any longer, she took a hold of her Angel’s hand tightly and carefully pulled him up to his feet before relaxing her grip so he could pull away if he pleased. She had pushed any fear to the back of her mind. She was being ridiculous. It was okay – he hadn’t meant it. It had been her fault for tearing off his mask. God, she had deserved the bruises that ringed her wrists.

She steeled herself, hardened her heart and looked at her feet quietly. Christine had never liked conflict, even as a child. Arguments with her father or with Mrs Valerius had made her upset for hours until they were resolved. Fights with friends had ruined her life, or so she had thought when she was a dramatic child. She thought she had grown more immune to drama in her life…but obviously, she was still as weak and pathetic as before.

[scorpionandgrasshopper-blog]

Erik felt nothing for a long time. It was like numbness and pain and the horror when he had seen his face for the first time in a mirror. Like he couldn't accept the reality he had been given, but at the same time he knew he had to. It hurt in his chest, so deeply that he could feel his heart strings actually breaking, one by one. He couldn't look at anything or hear anything or say anything. It was like he was an automaton, long since broken. He couldn't help but feel like he had felt this before, long ago before he could remember. Every moment seemed to break him a little more. The little fight and resolve he had found for himself had vanished like a flame on a candle. He felt the life in him, the thing that her presence had given him, the little breath in his lungs had disappeared.

But she touched him. She took his hand and it was like the clouds had parted for the sun. Like... Like she had lifted him so far up above the world and it felt like a high. She was his drug, his addiction, his everything, and she had... forgiven him? He wasn't sure how he felt about this, but her touch... So good... So deliciously warm and sweet. Standing before her, grasping her hand in his, he looked at their hands. Together, so sweet. It felt right. He slowly gripped her hand, not too tightly, but enough to show that she wasn't angry at her.

It was a mistake, simply a mistake. They had hurt each other so badly. He had screamed at her, and she had stripped away his armor. But they could make up, clearly. She loved him, maybe just a little. It had to be, she couldn't forgive him with such a kind gesture if she didn't love him. He so badly wanted to take her into his arms again... But no, no. This time, she would make advances, not him. She was clearly more sensitive than he was... Which Erik didn't exactly think was fair, considering all she had done to him, but he wasn't going to think of that. No, she had taken him back. He still said nothing, but looked at her, thankful and forgiving. He honestly didn't know what he could have done without her light. She had kissed him, held him, sung for him, made him smile. He couldn't have survived without her after all that. She was his everything now, his absolute everything.

He stayed there, in silence, grasping her hand and looking at her like a child. She was in control, and she knew that now, she must. He may have had... some assurance she wouldn't forget about him, but he wouldn't think about it. No, no, he was being graced with heaven via her forgiveness. No one had ever forgiven him before. He couldn't help the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that this wasn't a good sign, but he shook it off. It had been a misunderstanding, that was all. They would just go back to normal, maybe even be closer because of the fight. Couples fought, right? Were they a couple? No, not really. It was more complicated than that. But maybe it didn't have to be.

[swedishxsoprano-blog]

Forgive Me || Erik & Christine

[swedishxsoprano-blog]

If she had even the slightest amount of energy left in her, Christine would have rose also. But her muscles wouldn’t cooperate and once again, she found herself at his feet in a position of submission. Except she didn’t want to be there. If she could, she would have fled there and then, for the feeling of guilt that settled heavily in her chest was all too familiar. It was the feeling she had gotten after her father had died. It was the feeling she had gotten after Raoul had left. It was the feeling of blaming herself. Although perhaps it was justified in this case. The sensation of weight suddenly pressed down upon her, as if she were Atlas himself holding up the entire world upon her delicate shoulders. He was speaking, yet the words didn’t register in her conscious mind. They implanted themselves deep into her subconscious though and Christine bit her lip to stifle the tears that threatened to escape. Before she could filter herself, before she could realise that she sounded like a petulant child, Christine allowed a gentle whimper to escape. “I want to go back.”

Go back to what, she didn’t know. Back to the time when her Angel was kind and she imagined him to be physically stunning under that mask? Back to the time before her Angel when she was only a nightclub singer living her life? Back to the time when her father was there to guide her through the choppy seas of her life? She didn’t know at all. But it mattered not, for she was crying again now – albeit silently. She shakily pulled herself to her feet, drawing herself up to her full height, although she quivered still. “And I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for being tired. I’m sorry for falling in love. God, I’m sorry for my curiosity and for ever laying hands on your mask. I’m sorry for everything I’ve ever done. I will apologize for my whole existence if I must but I will not apologize for flinching, for being scared of your touch now. Not once did I call you a demon, not once. But those ten seconds of anger instilled such a fear in me, Angel. No one has ever touched me like that before, even in anger.” She trembled, her hands desperately pressed against the wall in an effort to keep herself upright.

Another weight. This time on her throat, robbing her of her voice as she tried to retreat into herself, into her head, where at least the cruel words she threw at herself would hurt less. A sick, dizzying feeling twisted in her gut as she shook her head harshly, her eyes focusing on a point somewhere beyond her Angel. The way her glassy gaze seemed to pass through him was curious, as if she were locking herself away into her own mind, walls slamming up to push people away from this husk of a woman. She would only hurt more people if she kept going the way she had been. It was almost eerie though; as glassy and tear filled as her eyes were, they seemed hollow, dull…haunted. 

[scorpionandgrasshopper-blog]

Erik felt another strange, yet very human feeling. Annoyance. But not the small kind, but the frustrating and infuriating annoyance. He had done every little thing to make her happy, and she was acting like this. He had tried damn everything! He had tried so hard to give her everything she acted, but she was still upset. She flinched and was angry and he had no idea what to do. Was he supposed to go away? Run? Get down on his knees? He was absolutely confused, and he was starting to get a headache. Social situations were never his strong spot, and he wished that he could just take everything back and disappear so he wouldn't have to deal with this. But he was a man, and he had to act like one.

He took a deep breath and exhaled. Be rational, be rational, be rational, don't scream at her, don't do it. It's not your fault, but don't scare her. He looked at her and sighed. "Christine, I'm trying to be rational, because you really won't like me when I'm irrational." He took another breath. "I am sorry for hurting you. There isn't much more I can say. I wish I could take it back, but I can't. I can't make you forgive me, I know that, but... You and I had something, and I still want to foster that. I..." He sat down and ran his hands through his hair and looked at her, in exasperation. "You drive me crazy, Christine. I've never felt this way before, about anyone. I love you."

There. He had said everything he could think of to explain himself to her. He bowed his head in submission, becoming absolutely silent, the mask on his face feeling more like a wall between him and the world than ever before. He was terrified in that moment. He could lose everything he had worked for, everything he truly cared about in one swift moment and he couldn't bring himself to say any other words about it. The voices in his head were a dull mumble now, but he could feel the pressures on his chest and shoulder getting heavier and heavier as the moments ticked past. Things were all a mess now, and what could he do? Nothing. She didn't seem to want to forgive him or make up. She seemed like she wasn't herself at all now. Did he do that? Did he make her this way? He had been angry at her, what did she expect? What, had no one ever yelled at her before? Never been angry at her before? Was he crossing a line by being mad at her for basically disrespecting him in the most insulting way possible?

No, no, he was right in this situation. She was being too emotional and honestly he hated her like this. Yes... Yes, he hated her, just when she decided to be like this. One little grab at her wrists, one bout of being angry, and she falls apart? She was weak, a child. He had been through so much in his life. What he had done was minuscule.

[phantamxrose-deactivated2015072]

If Raoul were a superhero (with powers) he would be Scarfman

[muirin007]

Raoul: “The Phantom has kidnapped Christine! Do not worry, my little Swedish meatball! SCARFMAN shall save you!”  *shoots scarf out of hand* *scarf plops unceremoniously to the ground, causing passersby to trip*

[cosenangel]

Credit/rebloggable versions: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] 

Enjoy~

[swedishxsoprano-blog]

Forgive Me || Erik & Christine

[swedishxsoprano-blog]

Christine let out a breath she wasn’t aware she had been holding as he sat back. The distance was better. It gave her room to breathe again. Her lips pressed together as she slid her hands between her knees, grimacing as her knees pushed against the bruised skin. But it didn’t matter. Even if she felt pain, at least she couldn’t see it. She was surprised no one had noticed yet. She had been covering them slightly with makeup but she thought that perhaps Raoul would have seen by now. Did she want him to see? Did she want to have to explain why her Angel scared her? Or would she only brush it off and begin lying to him? No, maybe it was best he had no idea. She would tell him if it got any worse. After all, she had told him that the Angel existed and he had seemed to sort of accept that, even though she was aware that it sounded insane. If her Angel scared her again, she would go and tell Raoul. He could be a rock for her to cling to for now. It would be okay.

As the Angel spoke, Christine lifted her gaze from the floor. “Yes, I’m frightened of you. I believe it’s fair enough, considering you took me by the wrists and slammed me into a wall.” She said, her words holding some bite. “Sorry, that came out…harsher than I meant.” She said a moment later, looking away again. “There’s no point in you leaving. You’re right – these feelings will plague me wherever I go. I might as well just stay in here with you and deal with that.” She hissed, although her eyes never left the floor again. He could follow her wherever he pleased, watch over her at all times. He probably knew of her conversations with Raoul, of her friendship with sweet Lucy, of everything she did at every moment of the day. And in that moment, Christine had a horrible, sinking feeling that she would never escape his gaze. That the eyes of this Angel would follow her, no matter where she went. Whether she ran to Sweden, to Greece, to Britain, to Australia. He would find her. 

Christine sighed and looked up again, schooling her expression into a mask of calm indifference. “Do you want me to make conversation with you, Angel? What would you like to converse about? The new opera perhaps? What about your life as an angel? Should we talk about that?” She offered, raising one eyebrow. She probably shouldn’t be sassing him like this but she couldn’t help but feel just a touch bitter. What the hell did he expect from her?

[scorpionandgrasshopper-blog]

Erik listened as she talked, each word hitting him like cracks of a whip against his flesh. He bit his inner lip and opened his mouth, as if to shout, but didn't. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, feeling his anger decrease from a raging boil to a small simmer. He breathed slowly, in and out, until he was able to speak again. "Christine, there is nothing I can do. I can apologize, I can be as nice to you as I can be, I can explain myself. But what I did was a knee-jerk reaction. You purposefully ripped my mask, a guard rail, a safety from the world away from me. I have attempted to forgive you for such a thing. But," he said calmly, rising to his feet and looking down at her. "If you are not going to forgive me for reacting to your misdeed, then what would you like me to do? Beg for forgiveness? Get on my knees? What do you want?

"I give you everything, my world, my music, my love, and you are not satisfied. I try to give you everything you could want, every little thing, and you do not seem to care whatsoever." He started pacing back toward the mirror, hands clasped behind his back, just a hint of frustration in his voice. "I tell you to see me every night. But you are tired, and I don't enforce it. I tell you not to love another, you do and I say nothing about it. You rip my mask from my face, the barrier I put up against the world, for very good reason might I add, and I forgive you. But I touch you? I get angry at you for ten seconds, and you decide that I'm a demon?" She was being absolutely ridiculous. He had been trying so damn hard for her. He had opened his very soul to her, given her his first kiss, taught her how to get to the top and she was just about to have it all, and she decides to ruin it. And somehow, he's the bad guy? She was just like all the other people in his life. It's all your fault, Erik!

He felt something in him snap. No! No, this wasn't his fault! It was never his goddamn fault! He was sick and tired of it being his fault. He always did everything right, just as he was told, just as instructed, but because of his face, it was always wrong. He looked at her, eyes brimming with tears. "I have given you everything I have, Christine. Every bit of my soul I had left. You were supposed to be my first, my only! The only woman I have ever loved, heart and soul. But you... You couldn't look past it." He looked down, completely defeated.

[swedishxsoprano-blog]

Forgive Me || Erik & Christine

[swedishxsoprano-blog]

His voice was closer. She could sense his presence. It immediately made her heart rate pick up although she wasn’t sure if that was because she was scared or in awe. As he took her hand, Christine couldn’t help but flinch, immediately feeling bad for such a reaction. She still felt queasy in all honesty. Her heart pounded in her chest as he bent to kiss the bruise on her wrist. She allowed it though. She didn’t pull away, she didn’t even flinch as his lips brushed the sensitive, tender skin there. She still couldn’t find it in her to speak properly and truly, it was bizarre. She couldn’t remember the last time that she was genuinely speechless but ever since she had pulled that mask from her Angel’s face, she felt like her words had been snatched from her throat and someone had forgotten to replace them. Instead, she merely nodded to show she understood, to show that she was sort of okay with him being this close. Any closer and she would freak out though. No, this was a good distance for now. Maybe even a touch too close but she could handle it.

Her gaze flicked up to meet his, her eyes still wide and dewy with unshed tears as she attempted to reel in her emotions. It probably wasn’t the best thing to think of in the company of an Angel who had specified that she wasn’t to fall in love with anyone else, but Christine wanted Raoul. Purely because Raoul had always been steady – even as a child. He would centre her now. But Raoul wasn’t there. She had her Angel – who inspired her – and…herself. She would have to calm down herself and attempt to balance her mind once more. She could do that at least. Christine looked down again, wiping tears from her eyes as she took slow, even breaths. She began to mentally chant the first Sanskrit mantra she could remember from yoga and focused on that only for a moment while she rebalanced herself. It would be okay.

[scorpionandgrasshopper-blog]

He knew he was stepping over boundaries by doing things like this, but he was scared of losing her. He sat back across from her, leaving a bit of distance between them. He knew he needed help and he wasn't stable; but it wasn't like anyone could ever see past his face to get him the help he needed anyway. He had given up on that long ago. And he wasn't the type to ever ask for help; that had been shot out of him a long time ago. He was content with the voice in his head and his personality and maybe not picking up what was right and wrong in the world. People would just take away his gifts when they look away the voices. He loved every part of himself, honestly. He wasn't so ashamed of his face as he was scared of people's reactions to it. He fancied himself looking almost good some days, but no one would ever notice him so what was the point. It was a private self confidence he had been gaining.

He suddenly sensed something. "You're frightened of me." He hadn't thought before saying it, he was just being honest. He knew he had fucked up, but not this badly. "You don't even want me to be here right now. I'll disappear if you want me to. Just say it and I'll go. But your guilt and the feelings you have right now aren't going away just because I leave." He had not much emotion in his voice, he was just stating facts. He knew her better than that; she wouldn't get better because a bad thing disappears from sight. She thought he was an angel and he could watch her whenever he liked. He could do whatever he wanted. He was nearly a God, a being with ultimate power over her and he was scared of that. She didn't realize that she could control him with a snap of her fingers. He was not the dominant one, but the submissive slave to his queen. But somehow... She didn't know that. She hadn't figured it out.

He looked at her, saying nothing. "Christine, say something. Please." He was finally talking and she hadn't said a word. He wanted her to slap him, yell at him, tell him he loved him, hated him, whatever. He wanted her to show a little emotion, a little reaction to his presence. He wanted her to show her feelings toward him, somehow. He wanted her to at least show she understood he was sorry or maybe that she was angry or thinking or... She was thinking, and he had a feeling he knew exactly who she was thinking about.

[swedishxsoprano-blog]

Forgive Me || Erik & Christine

[swedishxsoprano-blog]

As her Angel explained, Christine sighed quietly, her breath being expelled in a quiet huff as she slid down the door frame to sit on the ground. Her knees pulled up to her chest almost immediately and Christine curled in on herself, allowing the guilt to wash over her freely. As he spoke, Christine couldn’t help but listen. That voice. Even now, it still held power over her. All her guilt seemed to drain her, both of energy and of colour. Her skin, which was normally pale enough, seemed almost translucent now, serving only to make her look deathly ill, the bruises on her wrists a rich purple against the stark white of her skin. She felt ill. Genuinely sick with remorse. Her stomach twisted into knots as her throat went dry and suddenly Christine found herself incapable of thinking about anything apart from how bad she felt. It was true – aside from that one snap, he had been nothing short of charming. She had begun to feel affection for him. His face shouldn’t change that. But then, was it even really about his face? Was it not about the sudden unpredictability of his nature? Christine raised one hand up to her forehead, massaging it as she tried to force words to move from the tip of her tongue. To explain that she had been drunk, that she hadn’t meant to hurt him.

Yet all she could get out was a few simple words. “I’m sorry, Angel. I wasn’t….I wasn’t myself. I’m sorry. Please Angel, forgive me?” She murmured, bowing her head. Even though he wasn’t in the room, she couldn’t bring herself to look up. He would be watching. And if she buried her face into her knees, he wouldn’t see the tears gathering in her eyes.

[scorpionandgrasshopper-blog]

He saw his chance and took it as she looked away from the mirror. He quickly and silently slipped out, his normal mask now adorned his features instead of the gaudy colored one. He knelt before her, getiing on her level so as not to intimidate her. "Forgive you? Darling, you have given me everything. I know you're sorry, so of course I forgive you. We were both wrong in our actions, Christine." He took one of her hand tenderly between his, his slender fingers not sheathed in gloves as he took her hand in his and the fingers of the other danced over the purpled bruise. "Please, forgive me." He was bold in his actions and kissed her wrist very gently, just a brush of his lips. In truth, he did so because he worried he may never kiss her ever again, and his heart ached to think one of the few pleasures he had been granted in life would be taken away. "I acted wrongly toward you and I will never harm you again. I only wish to make you happy, Christine." He offered a smile, sympathetic in nature but honest.

His mind had begun to work again. He could finally focus on how her golden hair was frizzy and messy but in the best way possible. How her blue eyes seemed to get bigger with tears as she cried. How her cheeks blushed like roses. God, as beautiful as she was, he never wanted to see her cry ever again. He pondered a moment on that thought. Perhaps... perhaps he believed she was beautiful because emotion read on her face like a book. His face, as it was so thin and gaunt, never seemed to capture emotion just right. Perhaps it was the lack of a nose... How badly he wanted one, if only to be bale to nuzzle into her neck, pick her up and tell her that he loved her.

[swedishxsoprano-blog]

Forgive Me || Erik & Christine

[swedishxsoprano-blog]

Christine was already halfway out of the door when she heard the voice. That achingly familiar voice. Her grip on the frame tightened until her knuckles went white as she considered her options. Bolt now and hurt her Angel further. Stay and risk his anger. Run…or stay? Eventually, all the fight slid from her shoulders as she half turned, leaning against the door frame in a way that could almost be construed as casual. “Okay. I’ll stay.” She murmured, not daring to sit. Not yet. Sitting down would put her below him - would put her in a position of submission. And if he got angry again, she wanted to be in a more powerful stance. 

"Are you going to talk first or would you like me to begin?" She asked, her voice still polite and civil, although it lacked her usual spark, her usual verve and warmth. He had scared her and the detached way she stood was her way of suppressing the fear. If she felt no emotion towards him, she could feel no fear. It was good in theory but it didn’t really work in reality. There was still traces of fear. Of affection. Of awe. She didn’t know what to feel apart from tired. By God, she was so tired. Tired of opera, tired of this business with her Angel, tired of this damn headache that still lingered and tired of constantly being expected to know what she was doing. Honestly, at that moment, standing in her dressing room with a so called Angel speaking to her, Christine felt like breaking down into tears. 

[scorpionandgrasshopper-blog]

"I'm not good with this sort of thing but..." He sighed and took a second. "I've apologized a thousand times already, but you deserve an explanation. I am the way I am because I believe I was created because too many people only use their eyes when the judge someone. Not their ears, nor their heart. I was made to show others that there is so much more to a person. But, this does not mean that I am at all comfortable with the way I look. I am hideous, Christine, I know that." He almost felt like crying again, but didn't, instead just sat down behind the mirror. "People have done terrible things to people like me. And sometimes, people can't look past the face once they've seen it. I didn't show you because I wanted you to see who I was behind the face, learn my personality and my soul. I gave you my music, my voice, my songs because music is the gateway to the very core of my being. I just... I got angry when you tore the mask from my face because I was scared you'd scream and run and I'd never see or hear you ever again. It was wrong of me, but you must know I never, in a million years, would ever mean to hurt you. If I could take it back, I would."

There, he had said everything he had been keeping inside for the past weeks. He felt his admission of love, the singing of her praises, his need to come out and tell her every little thing, sitting in the back of his throat trying to get out but he couldn't just yet. No, he needed to go slow, tell her a little at a time.

[swedishxsoprano-blog]

For Raoul’s leather kink?

[scorpionandgrasshopper-blog]

For Erik's Christine kink?

[swedishxsoprano-blog]

Forgive Me || Erik & Christine

As Christine dragged herself into her dressing room the night after the rave, she couldn’t help the feeling of dread that settled low in her stomach. It was 5am, maybe later than that. Perhaps it would be too late for her Angel to appear. For once, she was dreading seeing him. In fact, it genuinely took a lot of courage for her to swing open the door and step in. She was intending on changing and leaving again immediately. The Angel wouldn’t get a chance to speak. She had barely set foot over the threshold when she began to step out of her club outfit. Her heels were kicked in the general direction of her shoe rack and one of her hands deftly pulled out the pins that held her curls up as the other moved to unzip her dress. She was like a well oiled machine – quick changes came natural to her now.

Her dress hit the ground and, in mere seconds, she had grabbed a pair of jeans and hauled them on before throwing a tank top over the top. Still quiet. Good. Christine slipped her feet into a pair of well worn Converse, threw her hair up into a messy updo and swiftly moved over to her shoe rack, tossing the heels into their rightful place. She couldn’t handle leaving her dressing room in a mess. Instead she hung up her dress and placed the pins back in their box before heading towards the door. Towards freedom.

Only, a voice stopped her. 

[scorpionandgrasshopper-blog]

Erik was sitting in the passage, the only place he could think to be alone. Everything had just gone so off track that he didn't know what to do, what to think. He couldn't think about anything but her screaming at his face. He had already cried, his usually thin, pale face had become a bit puffy and red. He was done being upset outwardly for now. He heard her come in, but didn't look. She was changing, like she should have. The swamp and oxycoton had helped him a lot, but he knew he needed to say something. It would never be the same again, but... He was already missing her company.

She was about to leave, and he couldn't stop himself. "Christine." He sighed, looking down at the floor as he stood directly behind the mirror. "Please, don't leave." He sighed, knowing that he had done wrong, but she had done wrong also. Neither of them were going to feel better unless they talked. It was going to be one of their few conversations they had ever had, as between lessons there hadn't been tons of time to talk. He had gotten better at conversation since he had met her though, and he thought perhaps he could finally be more open with her about his feelings and maybe they could get past this stupid fight. "Please, I want... I want to talk." He felt more and more human with every passing day with her, starting to really feel emotions in his core. And right now, he was feeling a need for forgiveness and companionship.

[swedishxsoprano-blog]

Well, I can’t promise I’ll be good conversation today but I’ll happily go to lunch with you!

[scorpionandgrasshopper-blog]

Excellent. And any company is better than none.

[swedishxsoprano-blog]

Lunch sounds lovely, actually. Thank you.

[scorpionandgrasshopper-blog]

Not a problem at all, Christine. I don't get much company, so I'm always happy when I have someone to talk to.