𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎. 𝟖 - ,, 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐘𝐒𝐔𝐒

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𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐊'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖:

If there was one thing that the two imbeciles who ran my opera house loved to do, it was throw unnecessary parties. I usually excluded myself from the crude debauchery, loud music, and perverted behavior, and tonight was no exception. The gala had been the talk of the town for weeks prior, spiking not only my interests, but my dear Christine's. She had begged me to let her go, using any sort of persuasion she could muster, and while at first my answer was a strict "No." I begrudgingly accepted the fact that she could make her own decisions, and granted her my approval.

Boy, was that a mistake.

It had to be around two A.M. when she finally returned to her dressing room, her face had a prominent redness to it and she could barely walk, stuck in a noxious cloud of hiccups and giggles.

"Christine!" I boomed, hastily accessing the room from her mirror, "You're two hours late! Where have you been?"

I feel as though its only polite I grant some background, so here it is. I had allowed Christine to attend the event under a certain set of regulations, which were:

1. No smoking, of course,

2. No consumption of any alcoholic beverages,

3. No getting inappropriately close with the foppish Vicomte,

4. And last but not least, you shall return by midnight.

Pretty easy and lenient rules, correct? Well, apparently not, at least for Christine, that is.

Christine faced me, clearly startled, "Oh, Erik darling, I did not intend to be back so late." She stated deliriously, though I was fixated upon the fact that she had addressed me by "darling," Which was certainly new.

"I see," I started, approaching her and gently grabbing her jaw to face me, noting how acutely dilated her pupils were, "And your alibi?"

"Well, you see," She paused for a moment, before breaking out in obnoxiously loud laughter, another behavior I had never seen before in Christine, "I forgot!" She exclaimed, gripping her sides and nearly falling, in her coma of uproarious laughter, to the floor as she leaned her back on the door for support.

"Christine, what has gotten into you?" I inquired, genuinely concerned for the young woman's health, "You seem.....Intoxicated." The mere thought of her breaking any one of my rules vexed me to the core, though I was faithfully determined that she was innocent.

"What? Erik, you truly are quite the tease." She murmured, her hand gripping my cheeks and squeezing them together, thoroughly thankful that my mask hid my ever-flushing face.

"Christine." I exclaimed in an authoritarian tone, grabbing her hand by the wrist, making her giggle, and removing it from my face, "You did not partake in any consumption of alcohol, did you?" My gaze burned harshly into her, though a big, dopey grin was still clear on her face.

"Of course not, my little Erik-poo" She cooed, her voice imitating that of a baby's as her finger poked at my face tirelessly.

"I don't believe you, Christine." I spoke softly, almost copying her exact movement and tone of voice, an amused grin on my face, never before had I seen Christine act in such an immature way, "You wouldn't lie to me, would you, dear?"

"Oh no, I would never lie to you, darling, or my name isn't Christine D-D-Da-Daae!" Her voice was suspiciously confident, though the way she slurred her syllables and even struggled to pronounce her own name betrayed her.

I simply rolled my eyes at her, knowing that I wasn't going to win an argument against this new drunk Christine.

"There is no need to lie, dear," I finally sighed, helping her towards the chaise lounge, "Just tell me who gave it to you and how."

Christine looked at me, dumbfounded, as if it was I who were intoxicated! "Who do you think?" She stated matter-of-factly, "Raoul, of course!"

"And why did he do that?" I managed to say through gritted teeth as I sat her down, and sat beside her, fury invading my soul as I thought of the many impure intentions the fop might have fantasized when serving Christine the drink.

"Because I asked, of course!" She roared, her laughter seemed to fill every crevice of the room.

"Christine!" I yelled, my gaze fixed on hers with a look of pure disappointment.

"Oh, darling, don't be mad!" She sighed, laying her head in my lap and fluttering her eyelashes coquettishly.

My face was bright red and suddenly the room was quite steamy, "This is severely inappropriate behavior." I mumbled, making her laugh.

"Oh, you think I don't know?" She chuckled, her eyes fixed on mine with a foreign fire in them, "You're not mad at me, are you?" She pouted, stretching out like that of a drowsy kitten.

I remained silent, unsure of what to say in this unforeseen situation. I never thought, or dreamed, that Christine might possibly ever act so wantonly in my presence.

Christine seemed to take pure delight in teasing me so, as I tried my best to avoid eye contact, though it was hard when she was acting so enticingly.

"What's wrong, Erik?" She finally purred, her hands travelling down my waistcoat, sending shivers down my spine, "Cat got your tongue?"

Her last words, or whisper, should I say, were so utterly lustful that I had to restrain myself from even moving. I swear, if I was ever to perish, this damn woman would be the death of me!

Finally, after having to endure the torture of feeling her writhe almost impatiently on my lap for what seemed like hours, I decided it was time to make my departure for the night.

"Christine," I finally spoke, my voice barely a whisper, "I think I should go now."

At my request she frowned genuinely, before a devious smile crept onto her lips.

"And what if I won't move?" She asked, her voice laced with malice, "Then what?"

I had to refrain from saying something truly erotic, biting my lip to suppress the words, "I thoroughly request that you do, Christine" I groaned, "For both of our sakes."

She let out a peeved sigh before sitting up, her face contorting in confusion as an obvious dizzy spell came over her, and only then did I realize how truly intoxicated the poor girl was.

"You need to go to sleep, dear" I sighed, getting up and fixing her a glass of water, "I'm sure you will earn quite the hangover tomorrow, but that's the price you pay for not listening."

She simply rolled her eyes and drank the water, laying down once done.

"Goodnight, Christine" I smiled at her as I made my exit through the mirror.

She grunted drowsily in response, seemingly already half-asleep.

I quite honestly couldn't wait for tomorrow, and I especially couldn't wait to remind her of the things she said, and her actions, from the night. Now, that would be fun.

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄─ Où les histoires vivent. Découvrez maintenant