Meant to Be

Well of course he hadn't really disappeared; He fell through the trapdoor in his bedchamber and landed on the dirt path that led straight to the Paris Catacombs. It was an escape route should he ever need it. He heard Elisabeth screaming, "Damn you Erik, where did you go?" He reappeared beside her, careful not to reveal the secret door. "Very funny, what other tricks are you hiding up your sleeve?" He produced from his sleeve a small box of chocolates. "You fool" she laughed; He handed her the box and asked, "Would you like to see some more tricks?" It was fun playing with her. He'd forgotten the simple joy of companionship, and never really realized how lonely he was. They laughed and practiced magic until late into the evening, when he bade her goodnight. Suddenly Elisabeth did something unexpected. She reached out and hugged him. Erik stiffened, his instincts told him to fight her, but he held still. "Goodnight" He said sternly, and walked off. He watched her from his seat at the organ as she crossed his room to hers, and he felt a little sorry. He hadn't meant to make her angry, but no one had ever willingly touched him, not even Nadir. Now here was this young, lithe female reaching out to hug a troubled soul and he had pushed her away. What was he going to do? It might have been easier to leave her alone and go about his business; yet, if he'd had she would have been caught, raped, and killed.

Erik had saved her life but now he couldn't figure out what to do with that life. He picked up Ayesha and slipped into his coffin, never removing his mask or dress clothes. He didn't want her to wake up and find him there, a corpse in a coffin. She hadn't asked about the mask, but he had noticed her looking at it every so often. That was fine as long as she didn't ask to see his face. He could not bring himself to admit that the minute she knew the truth she would run from him in fear. He remembered Julianna; annoying, sweet, curious Julianna. He could not have that same mistake happen again. The next morning he made sure to awake before Elisabeth, and set about making breakfast. He had pancakes, bacon, sausage, omelets, and fresh orange juice. Ayesha was licking her whiskers. Elisabeth came into the kitchen and he almost dropped his pan. She was gorgeous, her golden hair shining and wearing the light blue dress he'd picked to match her eyes. She smiled and he did drop the pan. "Ssory." He stammered. She picked it up and handed it to him.

"Can I ask, do you sleep with that mask on? What exactly are you hiding, a royal lineage?" He laughed. She thought he was a prince or king hiding out until the war was over. "No, I'm not royalty; the truth is I am deformed. I don't want you to suffer my grotesque face, please don't ask." She nodded. "I respect your privacy." Respect? When had anyone ever respected his face? Everyone wanted to know, wanted to see the monster beneath the mask. This damn girl was joking him, had to be! He glared at her. She seated herself at the table and Erik calmed himself. She obviously wasn't planning anything. After breakfast they talked. It was wonderful to have a conversation with someone after so long. He told her about his travels in Russia, Italy and Persia. She told him about her family, and how they had been caught in the bombing of Paris. She had escaped only to find herself homeless, penniless, and lost. She cried as she told this, and Erik moved to the couch beside her. Against his better judgment he placed his arm around her, and she laid her head on his chest. They sat like that for a few minutes, enjoying each other's warmth.

"I don't know where I'll go now" She confided. "Your always welcome to stay here, as long as you like" He replied. "Do you think the Opera would really hire me?" Elisabeth asked. "There will be auditions, for ballet and chorus, however, top priority will be given to those with a reputation and some experiance." He wondered if he could persaude the future managers to take a chance with her, she was wonderfull; and he wanted to see how far his power might extend once the Opera House was finished and running. She moved her head slightly, and the sensation sent tremors through Erik's body. Here was a young woman, so beautifull, and she did not draw back from him. Rather, she appeared quite comfortable in his arms. "Sing for me" He asked. Her lovely voice rang out with enthusiasm, and Erik closed his eyes as he enjoyed the sound. "Do you dance?" He questioned. "I've been trained in formal ball dances, and a little ballet." She answered. "Let us dance then" He smiled as he led her to the center of the room, and they moved together with precision and grace. She fit his body perfectly, slightly smaller and able to rest her head on his shoulder. He tried to hide his growing desire, but with every turn and move her body would excite him. He held her loosley, not wanting her to feel his ravionous passion.

"I believe that is enough dancing for tonight my dear" He told her. "Erik, is there anything you can not do?" She teased. He smiled as he led her to a corner of his living room where he kept his painting supplies. "I'm a mediocre painter, and my handwriting looks like a drunk five year old" He confessed. She looked down at the landscapes he'd done. "These are amazing, how can you say your mediocre?" She chided. "Who is the Indian lady?" She had noticed his painting of the Kaunum. "A very disturbed and troubled woman. I entertained her court in Persia." Elisabeth looked at him. "You told me you were a political assassin ?" She said. "I was many things, I dug myself a hole so deep I couldn't crawl out." He looked down and sighed. "Yet here you are, so you were able to crawl out somehow." She took his hand and he stepped back.

He traced her fingers with his thumb and told her, "I had a friend who helped me out, at the risk of his own life. I often wonder if he is ok, or even still alive." She held his cold hand in her warm one, "Perhaps after this war is over we can travel back, and find him." "Perhaps" He agreed. He led her back to the chair and she sat beside him on the floor. He told her a story, and she began to drift off. Erik led her to her room and said goodnight. He looked at her soft blue eyes and kissed her cheek. That small token of affection meant more than anyhting in his miserable life, and he went to bed content.