Phantom Portrait || Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction

18. "My lips are yours."

Emil

The majority of their trip down the halls consisted of Emil's voice. He told her everything about Persia and the prince that now wanted him dead.

Farren was quiet for all of it, even when he left for a moment to switch his mask to one more comfortable, one that provided less coverage and exposed the entire lower half of his face.

At the tail end of his story he served them each a glass of wine, casually explaining how he had been avoiding death as he did so.

"So you are still being hunted?" Farren raised her brows, watching him as he removed his costume coat. He raised a brow back, suprised that this was her first remark.

"Yes, that is what I said." Emil replied, sounding a bit didactic.

"That's why you left me?" She shot back, clearly having caught on with his tone. "I could have protected you; we could have fled."

Instead making his patience run thin as it would if anyone else had raised their voice at him, he found her aggression endearing.

"Farren," Emil began, leaning over and taking her hands, trying to soothe her anger despite his own amusement. "I trust you, and I would do anything to remain by your side, but there was so much more to take into account when dealing with vengeful royalty." Emil tucked a curl behind her ear. "I desire nothing more than your presence, but my departure was the only way I could keep you without risk. Not only you, but my home as well."

Emil saw her features return to their state of compassion, and in her expression he felt assured that he had not angered her over something so menial it would be beyond recovery. With confusion, Emil watched as Farren's features fell and her eyes begun to water.

He slid off his chair to kneel at her feet. They had been seated across from each other, but not separated by table.

"What is it, my love?" Emil enveloped her face in his hands, searching her eyes. "Have I again hurt you?"

"I cannot bear to imagine you hurt," she whispered, but didn't fail to meet his eyes. "Are you sure staying here is safest for you?"

"I am sorry that I cannot say for certain, but I can assure you that I will remain unseen." He inched towards her face, and kissed her cheek. "And I will not cause trouble, for your sake."

Emil gave her a sideways smile, and in response, Farren took a hold of the ruffles of his shirt to pull him to her. The collision of their lips overwhelmed Emil at first, but he responded quickly and equalled her passion.

Farren tasted like sweet merlot wine, her body was warm, and her lips - though they were soft in texture - moved roughly against his. He stood over her; his lips never leaving hers as he picked her up to lead her to the chaise lounge. He laid her body softly and positioned himself over her. Farren gasped as Emil's lips trailed off of hers and wandered over her jaw and down her neck. He felt her grip on him tighten as he tasted all that her dress left exposed for him, and her moans only encouraged him.

"Emil," Farren breathed heavily, interrupting him.

"Yes, love?" Emil replied, his face still tucked into her neck.

"Let me kiss you." She requested, her voice hushed.

Emil looked up at her, confused. "Are you not pleased by me?"

"I- " Farren's flush deepened. "I just want to kiss you like you have me."

With no further questions, Emil picked her up, and as he laid himself down, he settled her on top of him. His hands held her waist in place. "My lips are yours."