Erik's Desire

Erik’s Desire

By: Muse of Destructiveness

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don’t own the beautiful legacy and character of the phantom Erik. He and the others belong to themselves and Gaston Leroux for writing their story. The only thing I do own is a high respect for the phantom and my OC’s.

Warning: Flames will be very much ignored and used to toast marshmallows.

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Erik gazed at the crimson flower in his hands, his face twisted in anguish. Will I ever escape the pain of the past? Or am I cursed to stay in my own personal Hell until I die and find myself in the real thing? His body shook with sobs and his tears fell on the rose, watering the tender petals that were now a painful reminder to him of his affection for another. An affection that was rejected and would always represent a soul betrayed by the cruel emotion of love.

He ripped the mask from his face, the blank hole staring at him, mocking him with its baleful stare. In a fit of anger he threw it across the room, enjoying the sound it made as it fell into a warped mass on the floor. He looked up at the broken mirror that distorted his image so that, in his mind at least, he resembled the disfigured mass that scarred his face and his soul.

He stared into his own golden eyes, seeing their coldness and shedding cold tears at their hostility. He was torn between the passionate creature he was born to be and the cold-hearted murderer that man had made out of him. He told himself that he couldn’t help that he was who he had become, that the coldness that resided in him was just a reflection of what his mother had been like.

But what was left of his heart and soul told him otherwise. Deep within him was a shred of passion that could still overrule the turmoil that battled for domination within him. He knew that he was a genius, and used his music to reveal his sensuous side as well as his dark. His masterpiece had enchanted anyone who had heard its twisted yet bewitching musical score. Don Juan had been both his triumph and his downfall. Its opening had cost him his dignity and his heart.

Since then he had stayed away from anyone who had triggered his desire. He had shunned everyone, including his only friends. Never again would he risk his emotions to the hell that was love. Not even for his new protégé. He had learned his lesson from his last folly. Not even his Ravyn, whose presence was sweetly intoxicating, would cloud his vision.

----

“Erik? Where is the music that you want me to sing?” Ravyn looked at her teacher, her crimson eyes clouded with confusion. Sheets of music lay scattered everywhere, thanks to the devoted pupil who had tore through them earlier. “You just said that we were starting something new…now where is it?” she said angrily, stomping her foot with impatience.

Erik watched the scene with amusement shining within the yellow orbs of his eyes. He ran a hand through his dark hair, mussing it adorably. “I said that we were going to try something new, not sing something new…” He chuckled at the bewilderment on her face then continued, “Now, go into that room back there and put on the dress I’ve laid out for you...it will help you to feel the character more than just singing the notes on a page.”

She gave him one last curious stare before heeding to his wishes. She just didn’t feel right about this and she couldn’t understand why. Everything Erik had ever done for her was for her benefit, and it was time she did something for him.

Ravyn all but gasped when she saw the dress that waited for her. What looked like miles of black lace covering a beaded crimson silk bodice, with a skirt that looked perilous in itself; and she wasn’t even considering the black stilettos that screamed “I’m going to fall”. Oh well, if this is what he wanted then this is what he was going to get.

While Ravyn was battling the beautiful yet very difficult dress, Erik was pacing the room. God, what am I doing…this is exactly what I had Christine do with that wedding dress…He stood facing the very mirror that had mocked him for a lifetime, his eyes narrowing in disgust. How could I ask for anyone to love me? Just look at me, I’m nothing more than a repulsive beast of a man.

A soft rustling came from across the room, accompanied by a short cry of fear. He whirled around and saw Ravyn trying to keep her balance on the shoes he had set out for her to wear. He rushed over and caught her as she toppled over. “Darling, you really must be more careful,” he smiled down at her, and she cursed softly. God how easy it was to call her my darling...I think instead of her being careful, it should be me. Those words came much too naturally to my tongue.

“Well,” Ravyn mumbled, attempting to upright her self, “How do I look in this thing?” Erik stared at her for a moment. Her usually perfect ebony curls were slightly disheveled but other than that…she was beautiful.

He cleared his throat and bit back the compliments that gathered on his tongue. “It looks fine, shall we get started then?” He saw a glimpse of hurt cross her face for a moment, then nodding quickly she made her way past him to the piano. His heart clenched at the thought of hurting her, but he couldn’t convince himself to tell her exactly how he felt. There was too much there and too much at stake.

Inwardly he cursed Christine and what she had done to him. And God knows, he cursed the very existence of the Comte de Chagny everyday he was alive. Half of him told him that he should have killed them when he had the chance. His other half told him he did the right thing. Shaking those two from his thoughts, his mind turned back to his new protégé and her clear, pure voice as she sang.

----

After her ritualistic lessons with her fascinating teacher, Ravyn turned her attention to the small diary she kept under her mattress. She opened it to her last entry, rereading the last passage that was scrawled across the page. What are these longings see in those golden eyes that watch my every move? Sometimes I see amusement and others, if I didn’t know better; I would swear it was love.

She sighed wearily as she closed the small book, and reached for the small glass of water on her nightstand. Today he had worked her harder than usual and with every mistake she had made came a sharp complaint. Her throat was killing her, and so was her pride. Ravyn had always thought of her voice as the one thing she could rely on. Now, with Erik complaining more than usual about her lack of talent and a soprano range, she was beginning to have her doubts.

He was acting so differently these past few days, and truth be told, Ravyn was becoming more and more wary around him. It wasn’t that it frightened her, but it caught her off guard at times. One moment, his voice would be so soft and passionate, and another he was harsh and so cold that his voice sent shivers down her spine.

Inwardly she had always wondered about the mask, but she had never bothered to ask about it. The white mask had to be covering something, or he would have taken it off at least once. She wondered if that might have anything to do with his new found tribulations.

Ah, well, she thought. I’m just his student, nothing more. I’m just another ordinary girl, nothing to be concerned about in his eyes. His beautiful eyes, so deep, so sensual but yet glazed over with coldness. But when he looks at me like he did today, when he caught me…

It slightly disconcerted her that he could make her feel so beautiful, then turn his back on her and make her feel worse than dirt. Erik was a very complex person, with so many barriers against the outside world, yet she admired him. Or at least she thought it was admiration… After all, she really had no right to love him, if that was what all those secret longings were.

----

He knew he was drowning, being pulled into an even deeper wave of desire as she pulled his head down to hers. His mind commanded his hands to push her away, instead they brought her closer. Erik half-expected her to pull away from him, and softly cursed as she leaned into him. She breathed deeply, as if infusing herself with his breath.

Her fingers tightened in his hair, and she brought her mouth to his in a kiss designed to breach the defenses he’d refused to lower. One hand roamed up her back, tangling in the thick ebony mass that hung loose for a change. He whispered her name against her lips and then as quickly as she had come, she was gone.

Erik’s eyes snapped open, his mouth open in a cry of despair. A cry that had been her name, and yet it still lingered in the quiet of his room. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and unconsciously running a hand through his hair. This had to stop. No wonder he was so snappish all the time. Long days and sleepless, seemingly never ending nights filled with dreams of her.

God, why couldn’t he remember that she was just his student? Why couldn’t his body understand that, or better yet why couldn’t his heart? He groaned, his mind still foggy with fatigue yet fully aware of her absence. He had to find a way to stop this before he ended up like the last time, before he had his heart ripped from his chest and shattered into tiny pieces.

The hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair sought the pen by his bed, and then fished for some paper. It was the only thing that helped him through these restless nights. His music, a new composition, which was nothing but a torrent of notes that constantly reminded him of her. Shaking his mind free from the fog of sleep, he began to let the notes pour freely onto the page as he thought of the soft, gentleness that had plagued his dreams that night.


Ravyn watches her teacher cautiously, her crimson eyes darker than their usual blood red color. Today’s session had gone no better than the last, and Erik was in no better of a mood. The single eye uncovered by the mask looked tired and the black smudges under it didn’t look promising. Now he was just sitting there, staring into nothing as if he was in his own little world.

“Erik?” she questioned, coming to his side and placing a gentle hand on his arm. If her question hadn’t roused him from his trance, the soft hand on his arm nearly unraveled his control. He jumped and for a swift second she could see the fiery passion her touch had roused. Then it was shoved behind the barrier he had placed there just for that purpose.

She trembled at the anger in his eyes, as he whirled upon her. “My God, woman! What is it?” he growled.

“I…I am sorry if I startled you. I didn’t mean to…” she stammered, taking a step back from the yellow eyes that glared at her and seared her soul.

It wasn’t her words but the tears that finally cooled the anger that hid any other emotions she might have glimpsed. He took a step toward her in an attempt to apologize, and winced as she flinched away from him. “Ravyn…I’m sorry,” he said, walking up behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders. His voice had adopted a soothing tone, and the warmth from his touch was enough to make Ravyn shiver from something that wasn’t fear.

“It’s alright,” she murmured, turning to face him. The sight of her tear-streaked face was morbidly attractive and it made a similar shudder run down his spine. “I really shouldn’t have bothered you.” She tried to ignore the fact that there wasn’t even an inch of space that separated them, and focused on the apology that was etched into his face.

“Nonsense,” he whispered, looking down into eyes that would shame a rose into hiding its perfect bloom.

----

Erik watched her intently, seeing the expression in her eyes turn from surprise into unwanted fear. One hand grasped hers and paused for a moment, savoring the smoothness of her skin. The other went to her hair, tangling itself in the mass of ebony waves. Then they dropped back to his sides, and he sighed.

“I think it’s time we said good night,” he murmured. He wished that he trusted himself enough to walk her back to her room, but inside the logic that built up in his mind he knew that it wouldn’t be right. He had seen the fear in her eyes before, as if even she didn’t trust him…but there was something else behind the fear. Desire? Perhaps.

Ravyn swallowed hard, wishing she had the courage to say something. Anything would be better than the tension-filled silence that now filled the room. She opened her mouth once or twice, but no sound came out. Finally, she nodded and left the room quietly, her mind swirling with unanswered questions.

The one question that stood out in the turmoil was “Why me?” That was the question that haunted her day in and day out. As she stepped through the mirror that had started everything she gasped. Sitting on her bed was the last person this side of Hell that she wanted to see.

“Hello my dear,” the raven haired man said, his voice lowering to a soft purr. He grinned as he realized that she didn’t share quite as much enthusiasm as he in just seeing her go a deathly shade of white. “What? No passionate welcome for the husband you so cruelly, and might I add, coldly left behind in Egypt?”

She gaped in horror and barely stifled the scream that lodged itself in her throat. “You’re not my husband and you never were, you pig-headed bastard,” she growled, trembling with raw fury.

He took offense at the anger and disgust that forced its way into her voice, and stood slowly. He came to stand beside her, frowning at the rage that made her blood red eyes gleam. “You forget, dearest. We were wed and happily, until you came up with the notion to run from my love and hide here in this place,” he said, his voice changing from tenderness to a disgust that rivaled hers.

She glared at him, her fury fueled by the look in his eyes when he had said place. “This is my home, and I’d appreciate it if you’d leave it and me alone. The sooner the better, I would think.”

His eyes narrowed as he pondered her words. “You’ll regret ever leaving me, witch. I promise you that.”

----

Erik had had enough. For the past few hours he had done nothing but beat himself up. He’d think that he had done the right thing by just leaving her like he had, but the passionate part of him said that he should have finally let her know how he felt. Sighing, he rose and retraced her steps to the mirror that connected to her room.

He heard loud voices arguing, and recognized the woman to be his fiery protégé. But whose was the other one? A male, definitely, but who? He quickened his pace and came to a sudden stop.

“I’ll never be so stupid as to succumb to you again! Haven’t you figured that out after two hundred years of nothing but searching?! I don’t love you, and I never have!” she screamed, her face flushed with anger. “I never could, you never gave me a chance. All you ever did was turn me into the hideous creature I am now!”

She turned her back and among the glistening silver on her sleeves, Erik now saw a dagger in one hand. In his mind it was like a slow motion, black and white movie. The kind where you know you don’t want to look, but you can’t really help yourself. Before he could even blink, she had buried the blade up to the hilt in the man’s chest.

“May you rest in Hell, Yaksha. May you rest in Hell…” she hissed softly into his ear, meeting the man’s surprise-filled eyes with a calm stare. He fell to the ground, now nothing but a pile of ash that she simply swept up, seemingly without a care.

Erik watched, stunned from his original intent. I come here to tell her I love her and she kills someone who just wanted to be with her. And what did she mean, two hundred years? Don’t tell me I’m in love with an immortal who is as old, if not older than I…

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He almost wept as he watched her sleep. She looks so beautiful and peaceful when she sleeps. She couldn’t be the angry monster I saw earlier. Erik had not moved from his position behind the mirror since what seemed like forever. But even the discomfort from being in the same place too long wasn’t half as bewildering as the fact that he still wanted her.

~*~

In her dreams, it was still the same. His love was strong, and still lingered and haunted with every dream that floated in ebony. In her state of madness she had fell to the bed and drifted into a dark state of unconsciousness, almost forgetting the beguiling teacher she had left earlier. But as she sank into her dream state, there he was, once more. His body was nothing but a specter, just a figment of her imagination, but still as real as she was. He beckoned, with one gloved hand, wanting her to come closer to him.

~*~

Erik stepped closer to the sleeping figure on the bed, his hand reaching to touch the dark curls that were spread about her. His old dreams of Christine dead, gone from his mind the second that this girl stepped into his life. He twined one of those curls around his fingers, toying with the idea of waking her from her tranquil sleep.

~*~

She approached him hesitantly, her eyes betraying her with their deep scarlet gaze. He opened his arms to her and she went willingly, tossing all care to the wind. He watched her, his fiery gaze searing her soul. “You alone are mine, you belong to me,” he whispered, entwining his fingers in her hair. “Only you can help me bring back the music that was lost.”

~*~

He couldn’t understand why he was still here. His mind was fighting him every second he stood next to the bed, every moment his hand lingered to touch her. But his heart… Ah, his heart was melting the icy barrier that had surrounded it. It praised him for staying with her, reveled in the peace that was brought into her presence. And it was exactly why he sighed softly and disappeared into the darkness.

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