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A Fate Suit For A Monster

Summary:

Erik ponders his fate as a "hell-spawn demon" in love with an angel.

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"It's a fitting punishment for a monster. To want something so much-to hold it in your arms-and know beyond a doubt you will never deserve it."
-Renee Ahdieh

I lay a gentle hand on Christine's elbow, directing her toward her dressing room, where I set up a makeshift bed for her. Nothing compared to the one I had for her in my chambers, but this will do. It's simple, really. Just a comforter on the couch that may or may not have previously been in Carlotta's room, and a blanket of my own.
Christine was much too tired, or I'd lead her to my chambers. It was too long a trip, or believe you me, I'd carry her all the way.
I did, however, pick her up for a moment to lay her on the couch, laying my blanket on her resting, half-awake form.
She looked at me with lidded eyes, which were a deep brown that reminded me of the little chocolates I'd set out for Madam Giry when she looked overworked from a day of teaching the new ballerinas.
Christine gave me a soft smile that shot me with a warmth that then spread to every inch of my body. "Thank you, Erik."
She reached out a hand to me, a rare occurrence that I treasure. I placed my own hand, much bigger with fingers that seemed inhumanly long, in hers. She brought it to her cheek, rosey pink with warmth, like the rest of her. She was like her own little sun. Which made sense, seeing as how I often thought of her as my world. My only star in a dark galaxy of a dreadful existence.
I knelt down lower to her, letting her hold me for as long as she'd like. Every passing moment I was with her, I felt my heart beat slow down, as if keeping itself quiet for her to sleep.
She shuts her eyes, her breathing slowing down as well. She looked heavenly. An angel on earth. With a demon straight from hell holding her. What a fate.
I stood up straight, placing her hand to rest beside her. I brushed a ringlet of hair out of her face, before exiting silently.
My angel lays to rest. She deserves it. Hell, she deserves the world. I only wish I could somehow give it to her.
I shut her door, and feel another presence. I turn, seeing Christine's new love interest approach her door. The rich sailor boy that quite literally could give Christine everything she could ever dream of.
I pursed my thin lips at him, stepping into the shadows of the night. His smile shone, his almost feminine face lighting up the pitch black hall.
I sighed, making the first bit of noise since I left Christine. What a pair. Two perfect beings. Obviously Raoul is more suit for Christine than I. He lives in a manor whilst I dwell in the sewers under an opera house. He feasts on fine dining while I... I'd rather not think of the food I've had to sometimes steal.
I left him. If I wanted to, I could've killed him a hundred times over again. Of course, sometimes I truly did want to. They way he strutted around, holding Christine's hands and singing to her in a fine tenor voice on the rooftops.
But alas, he made my angel happy. Ah, the tales she told to me after they'd had a day of bliss.
She sang so utterly beautiful on those days especially.
It, of course, hurt. But the hurt I feel was worth seeing her so joyful. I went back to my chambers, petting my cat along the way to my bed. She purred, then hissed at me as I walked away from her. I quirked an eyebrow. What a mean animal. I suppose she's a bit like myself. Happy when given affection. Bitter when cast aside.
I had a dreamless sleep. Upon awakening, I wondered if that's how my life would be without Christine. Bleak and dry. But without bitterness.
I assumed so.
A demon like myself would prefer the near endless grief I feel, if it means the rare bursts of happiness when I feel Christine beside me, enjoying my company. I truly love her. Present tense, not past, of course. How could I ever stop loving her?
When I'm dead, when the world has ended and fallen into black, I'll still remember those soft touches, her warm smile, and the bliss I feel when she opens her mouth to either sing or just speak about whatever she has on her mind in her gentle voice.
I know that one day, she'll marry Raoul. And though I despise it, (which I despise myself for), I'll hope to attend their wedding, not for him, not for the attention the opera house would surely get because of my existence being proved, but to see her smile. Because that, is what I live for.
Not the music, though it flows so easily through my hands and mouth, not for wealth, though it would be nice, and definitely not for Raoul, though I suppose I'll have to put up with him. But, for her.
My dear Christine.
If only I could make her as happy as he does.
A fate which isn't mine. For a monster such as myself can love, but to be loved, that's a story that's not mine.