Persia
1864
"What is that your writing in, Emma?" Erik asked, rocking Anthony close to him. Emma glanced up from the book she was writing in and smiled at the two boys in her life that meant everything to her.
"It is my diary," she answered. Erik frowned.
"I did not know you had a diary," he said. Emma smiled again.
"I know, I always wrote in it when you were sleeping," she answered. Erik said nothing for a moment, although he was curious about anything that had to do with Emma.
"What do you write in it?" he wondered, hoping she would show it to him. Emma smiled to herself, looking down at the book.
"A lot of things, my thoughts, dreams...hopes, everything really," she said. Erik would not tell her that he wanted to know all of those things about her because he knew they were private and none of his business. He had also noticed that she had begun leaving the house late at night and coming back a few hours later. He watched to see where she went but she always disappeared before he had a chance to do so. He would never ask because he wanted her to get away for a while because he hated the fact that she was forced to stay here because of the family who cared nothing for her.
"I know you are curious to read what I have in here, Erik, but in time perhaps I will be able to let you read it, alright?" she asked. Erik nodded, surprised that she had seemed to know what he was thinking...
xXx
"Emma's diary?" Leroy asked, astonished. He had thought his sister had taken everything with her when she had married that blasted Daae. He reached for it but was very suddenly shrouded in darkness. The candles had been blown out and they were in complete and utter darkness.
"Blasted draft!" Michael spat. Leroy began fumbling around for some matches and when he found one and managed to fall over everything imaginable he managed to light a candle. His fathers curse brought his attention back to the desk.
The diary was gone.
Erik slipped silently back into his room. His entire body was soaked through from the rain that had been falling since he had left. Everyone had already left the manor and he was glad. Anthony had answered all of the questions the authorities had and they too had left. The diary was clutched to his chest, his knuckles white from where they held the book. Christine was lying still in their large bed and he set the diary down, going over to her on quickened steps. Her face was still pale and she was lying very still, the only movement the rise and fall of her breasts. Erik stripped out of his clothes and quietly climbed in beside her, suddenly very exhausted. It felt like he had not slept in ages and he prayed that his sleep was not full of nightmares, reliving Christine getting shot over and over again.
Gently he lifted her head and set his arm beneath it, cradling her as close as he could without jostling her wound. There was a small crease between her brow as she slept and he ran his finger gently over it, trying to soothe her. She mumbled some incoherent things and Erik hated seeing her like this, so weak and defenseless. He wanted his feisty, sharp tongued wife back and he wanted her soon.
"E-Erik!" she moaned his name softly, her voice full of pain. Erik pressed a kiss to her temple and began to sing softly.
"Hard as lightning, soft as candlelight, dare you trust the music of the night...close your eyes for your eyes will only tell the truth, and the truth isn't what you want to see...in the dark it is easy to pretend that the truth is what it ought to be...softly, deftly, music shall caress you, hear it, feel it, secret possess you! Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind in the darkness which you know you cannot fight, the darkness of the music of the night!"
Christine stirred from the sound of his voice and her eyes opened slowly to reveal her blue gaze looking directly into his own. Erik said nothing because he found his breath had caught in his throat. She suddenly looked so beautiful to him that he was speechless for several long moments. Why was it that he suddenly saw her differently? Was it because he finally realized all that she had to offer him and all that he could have lost that night? He could not interpret the look in her blue gaze but he wanted to know what it meant. He pressed a kiss to her mouth and she remained still, her eyes never leaving his face. Erik became concerned, what was running through the little spit-fires mind?
"Where were you...?" she whispered. Erik frowned, she had been drugged, how did she know he had left her side. He said nothing and she repeated the question a little more forcefully.
"There were a few things I needed to take care of," he murmured. She looked at him a long time, trying to figure out what those 'things' were. She could not tell him that she had missed him terribly the last few hours. She felt safe with him and after what had happened that night she had needed him by her side. But at times her pride was far too strong for such a thing and so she said nothing on the subject. It was silent for several long moments, both so completely used to the other that the silence was not in the least bit awkward.
"Have you ever been shot?" Christine wondered, apparently out of the blue. Erik's eyes found hers and his own were fairly twinkling at her question. He loved this part of her that was able to shrug their situation away if even for the briefest of moments.
"No, I cannot say that I have," he answered very softly. Christine wrinkled her nose and glanced down at her shoulder.
"Well, I do not recommend it. It is dreadfully painful!" she informed him. Erik could not help the chuckle that burst from his lips at her totally ridiculous statement. Christine smiled slightly as well, trying to become more comfortable against him.