7Dear Journal,
There are moments with him when things feel like we are a normal couple.
We eat, sleep and work.
Well, even that isn't as simple as it sounds.
I eat, sleep and work. Erik, sometimes eats, rarely sleeps and never works. Not in the usual venue, at least.
He is rich, you see. Accumulated wealth he has not told me whence or from whom it came. Though at first, I would have been met with a harsh glare should I enquire, those dark black eyes of his sending any lesser person running. For me, it would have been the utter dread sinking to my stomach. Yet now our 'relationship' you could say, had mellowed. When I come home from work to my delightful apartment, he would be inside, rustling up something for dinner.
I haven't yet given him the key. I suspect that given there are air vents on the floor above he drops down, or the three locks on my door are not sufficient in hindering his entrance. Or perhaps it is the fire exit that runs past my windows and the fact the glass pane is dreadfully easy to squeeze through. It was one of his nuances and he likes playing the mysterious rouge. I only put up with it because he makes a brilliant marco polo, (well…that was just one of the many dishes he was an expert making). He fills my apartment with roses when he comes in by his various means and the musky cologne he wears delectably scents the air. Several times I have found his little gifts; once a bracelet hanging from the banana tree, another resting in a beautiful velvet box on my pillow and a very sparkly necklace hiding on a hanger in my wardrobe. Erik denies all knowledge of such a mystery, though that little twinkle in his eye betrays his innocence. Should I wear them, he would be first to compliment how ravishing they looked on me, lips twitching in a gleeful smile.
Erik is a saint, in some ways.
Though I suppose all couples argue at one point or another, I do think what we argue over is slightly different.
I do believe he almost fainted in shock to hear that I listened to metal (the music) on a regular basis, then thoroughly gained a passionate red when blatantly refusing to call it music. His imperial sense of pride and expectation are suddenly not to be taken lightly. Sometimes I have to tell him gently that I am independent and have my own tastes – we are equals – and he could not dominate what I preferred and what he did not.
He had to swallow that bitter pill early on. If I do not speak about it, he has no cause to flush in irritation. Even if he can hear it from my headphones (because it was rather loud at times), he makes no derogatory comments. I pointed it out that it would be much better if I listened to it privately rather have it out loud in the apartment. Though, I did say that if he did not like it, he did not have to be there.
That comment alone made him pout. He is such a trial at times. You can already hear the sigh of exasperation in my tone.
We are normal in the sense of our outings.
As in, when we go out we do the normal things.
We saw movies, shows and went for walks in the park.
Erik liked to rent out the entire cinema. He convinced me that all high paying customers would. Whenever his smooth voice would rattle out his 'reservation under the name of Erik' the current server's eyes would bulge in surprise and tend to our every whim. Free food, free drinks. Yet should I ask for something, their eyes would immediately deviate to Erik and I had caught him giving a subtle nod to the server at my request.
The movie would play almost immediately – there was no half hour wait being entertained with mind-numbing adds. Erik was romantic in the cover of darkness, his hand would slowly, carefully come to rest beside mine, his onyx ring twinkling. If I would go to pick up my drink, my condensation slicked hand would often land in his, as if it had been adjusted within seconds like a small delicate trap. Those long artistic fingers that sent my pulse thrumming would glide over mine and I would be perfectly ensnared. It was not so much of a trap though when I would lean over to kiss his one unmasked cheek.
Erik would often subconsciously bare the 'good' side of his face to me. He has been training himself so long that it was a natural instinct now. Erik has suffered so much that he would never feel truly comfortable with his mask off anywhere public (outside of my or his home), and even then, it was a battle. It is our goal, I had told him that if it were me alone to push for him to opening up, that it would never be possible for him to ever be comfortable with his appearance. It has to be his own self to want to be comfortable too. If it were for me alone, Erik would grow to resent the fact I was denying him his shield. As much as the mask was physical, there is also a manifestation of an inner one too. I hope that one day that he would take it off voluntarily, yet I have grown accustomed to his indicators of discomfort and been able to dim the lights as a silent acknowledgement of his wish.
Sometimes our connection does not just consist of verbal communication, we can express it through intrinsic knowledge and silent cues. Were all relationships like that? My one that breezed by with Raoul had never had that connection. Just two beings simultaneously liking one another and living around each other, trying not to cause disruption to one another. There were no silent cues, gentlemanly or endearing gestures. Certainly no moonlight walks in the park or a grand tier box at an opera. No instant tingles down one's spine when his dark gaze travelled over you as if you were the finest goddess in existence, or enough heat in his gestures that I would once have called innocent with Raoul, were seductive with him, so much so that I could have swooned.
I once would have called myself a non-swooning type of gal, that all changed when Erik undressed me with his charming eyes and rakish smile. That man looked good in anything, from Armani suits, to silken pyjamas. I had not yet seen him in nothing, yet I had a feeling I would not be disappointed either. Even while I write this journal, the thought is making me blush. Erik's humming in the kitchen, the sound of vegetables being chopped echoing and I am pretending I am not entranced by his song or thinking wicked thoughts. Erik works better alone and I have accepted that is just the way he is. In the kitchen he is no different. He would insist I would sit instead of having to help. However, I intend to show him that working together could be effective and that will start in the kitchen. We all have things to learn.
I have never met a man with such intensity – hunger deep in his eyes that seemed equally dangerous and alluring. In that way, I could imagine Erik would be the model for all those romantic dark heroes to be carved from. Simultaneously, he has always been gentle with me, never really straying from areas of my body that wasn't socially acceptable in public. However, the large hand of his would curve protectively on my waist and when another male glances by, with his eyes roving over me. Though he had worked well to calm that wave of protective jealousy, I knew that he would always be one that likes to make it obvious we were 'together'. It was a male thing I have recognised and his masculinity was honed strong from the years of fighting for survival. I don't condemn it either, not when it feels rather flattering to have his hand slightly deviant from its usual pose. A feeling of safety and devotion washed over me. My head would automatically come to rest on his shoulder to reassure him. His grip never particularly moved once we passed a potential 'threat', yet his onyx eyes often seemed to soften when he looked down at me. I could often hear his murmured French endearments when his lips pressed against my curls of my head. Did I mention that he made French truly sound like the fluid language of love? Another swoon worthy moment, I can tell you.
When our voices rose when we make music, it was nothing short of wondrous. Can there be a happier bliss than that of making music with an angel? Hours could rush by, moving from one song to another, both voices melding and diverging to become one. An ending became another beginning, one's song circling to rise to another's aria. Another tempo to match another melody, another series of notes to complement the lyrics of the song. And there was beauty and a connection so strong a hurricane could have torn at us and we would still be enraptured in our song. Is this love, that makes one invincible with another? That staring into those eyes is like staring into a galaxy of reflected beauty. I stand mere inches from him as he plays divine music from the piano, hands moving, yet his adoring eyes upon me. Nothing can come between us. We bridge the gap and sing with our souls.
At first I had been afraid of this – this bond of something other. We both ran, until he had been strong enough to recognise, he could not deny beauty. I had every intention to ignore it. All I felt was danger. I was helpless to resist it and the more I resisted it, the more I feared it. Him. Is it possible that we are soul mates, like two planets always circling another in an equilibrium only achieved by a bond unknown to man? Erik feels it too. At night, he pretends he lives here and climbs into bed with me, position himself so that only a few centimetres are between us. There is such magnetism that my body would find itself inching closer until we collide softly like two falling stars. His arms would wrap around me as if they belonged there and sometimes, he would, with a few thoughts, show desire for me in a way that a man only could. His arms would hug me tighter, crush my body to his and well, his fingers would dive beneath my clothes, only to hold me gently to him. Some nights, I knew he slipped away because we had yet to show intimacy to one another and he could no longer bear such proximity without showing his devotion. I pretend I don't hear the freezing water spray onto him and that his skin was then much cooler once he returned. I plan to show him soon, because I don't think he can wait much longer before he shuts himself away. But am I ready? I do not know the answer to that. Nothing is simple with him.
Raoul and I never took liberties with one another, never much more than cuddling in bed or simple kisses that left only a wandering curiosity in my stomach. I never felt much with him – to describe it as bland would be wrong, but to say it wasn't much more than that wouldn't be true either. The idea of something more when things had never felt more than 'lukewarm' with Raoul, I know wouldn't have been fair…That is not the case with Erik. No, sometimes the fire threatens to consume us, yet I know it will be something always burning between us. In him.
The reason I haven't initiated something more was the fact that then Erik would propose marriage. He would want all of me – forever – should I pledge my body and soul to his for a night. The hunger would only increase and I have not been ready yet to brace myself for his inferno. Erik is placid, but marriage I had later found out was always something on his mind. He only saw it with me and I wish it didn't feel so unsure, so surprised by the idea. His love would only turn possessive – as much as I hate the thought – should I resist the idea of marriage and a life with him. That now we he had grown so comfortable, so attached with me, the very idea of ripping apart was sacrilege. It was as if our persons were tied together with something stronger than thread, as if fate had linked our lives together permanently. Erik had been eager to attach us together too and it is now I realise that it past the point of scurrying away. He promised to always be able to find me and I know without a doubt, should I leave at all, those eyes would follow me with every step. If I dare to separate myself from him, his song would lure me back, his hands would make me his and I would not be able to escape his love.
I suppose it makes our relationship seem highly unrealistic to you. I think I would have laughed had I heard myself talking (or writing) like this a year ago. But it is true. All of it. I do not know much of his lucrative past, but I know that he is able to defeat someone without much thought. He wouldn't necessarily view it as a bad thing either. I am working towards him living as humanely possible, yet once again, I cannot counteract a lifetime of black and white based survival. I do what I can to make him feel safe and loved – my heart won't let me do otherwise. I love him…Why do I love him so much? He would not be the person I thought I would come to love. It feels much of a ying and yang situation. Maybe that is why the force is so strong, so magnetic, so possessive.
The idea to always be loved sounds insane, something you would read in books. I never would ever want to go through with a divorce with him. Not that I could picture it, but it is still something to consider. I can't let feelings win over practicality. It had only been a year! I have to talk to him at some point…To explain why things in physicality had not been progressing.
It isn't simple, being with Erik. His past has irrevocably made him the man he is today and there is no changing that. Only curbing the habits that he is prone to, improving his self-image and confidence within (he is plenty haughty in front of others) but inside he's not so confident. He needs constant reassurance; it is partly why I know seeing his gifts on me is a great pleasure to him. It is why I see him glancing at the ring displays in jewellery shops, almost subconsciously. How he twists the ring on his pinky finger religiously when lost in thought. I often wonder if it's about me.
He wants to travel the world with me, show me the places I have dreamed of going to. He's already arranged a dozen trips next year. I don't sing professionally anymore. Why, you ask? Well, I stepped out of limelight because I was receiving too much attention. People snuck into my life around me to get a look at the mystery man I was 'dating'. It is much more than that however, our relationship cannot fully be described in simple, casual terms. But, it became hard protecting him and others wishing to catch on with my 'fame'. Primarily, it strained our relationship, especially before it was found out I was dating someone and of course, Erik found this especially difficult. His dominant side came out when 'men were at my heels' and thus Erik wrapped me in bubble wrap only he could tear off – it was stressful. Now I sell my paintings for a living and it makes things much more peaceful. Also, Erik would add slyly, much easier to plan trips since my schedule was my own and he could take me to see the sights while also saying it was coinciding with my art. He was thoughtful like that.
We are a normal couple.
Yet no other couples hold a bond we have.
He's calling me now for dinner. (From the smell of it, he's made my favourite, yay!) I have to go, little journal. I'll return soon. Thanks for listening as always.
Christine
PEEKABOO. BET YOU DIDN'T EXPECT ME TO POST SO SOON HEHE.
I had this saved in my drafts to finish and I did this today. ;) A different take on Erik and Christine – probably more ALW inspired. I do love modern Erik damn it and I ain't changing that. Hope this is nice after my dark and rather un-fluffy AU I have running beside this! I mean, this is most likely a stationary oneshot, but perhaps a 'preview' if you will to my ALW verse modern Erik. He's pretty needy too, but in a different way. Also, I can't really imagining Christine singing long-term in the modern world. Honestly, for most of the reasons she listed. Also, this Christine was just begging to have a turn on the webpage and I gotta obey my muses at all costs. Otherwise they get super stroppy with me and I can't write anything at all.
Erik wants a turn next apparently, so hopefully you might see a bit more action from him if you guys are interested (and what I mean by this is writing in that little white box at the bottom and telling me that you want more or liked this), cuz Erik is sorta a figment of my imagination so I do need to see feedback myself to tell him to come out and play for a while.
Teehee you must think I'm crazy by now.
I don't know whether to deny this or not.
Never really do diary entries though, but it felt rather monolgue-sque piece and quite heavily introspective, so I'd thought this format would work better!
This was my writing about a year ago NO FLUFFING DIALOGE IN SIGHT, and heavily thought based. I mean it works in some forms, but honestly, it's pretty draining and we need some people speaking! But hopefully much improved and intentional retrospection. I also struggle with tenses, so please bear with because I had to go back through this and comb it until it was switching to present in the right places, but this is WHY I NEED A BETA *wails*
Ahem, goodnight all. Thanks for stopping by,
Enigma out.