"Father's" Day bandwagon, also icons and musings

[theoperaghost]

So very kind of you to finally give me icons with which to express myself. I dare say if that kind woman had not sent you some, you would have never had the motivation. And please, spare me your excuses - "proper schooling" is not really all that "proper". Stifling the imagination and morbid curiosity in favor of creating more like-minded simpletons hardly seems like an ideal practice. And you have stated yourself, "in this economy, it's unlikely I'll even get a job". Why do you pour money, then, into something which will give you nothing in return for your investment? Curious.

...

I am growing tired of your jokes about "posting" with me on Father's Day. This day does not exist in my time and will not for several decades. As for Christine Daaé, and I am her teacher, not her father. A father figure perhaps, but, that is of little import.

...

You are honestly beginning to make me regret granting you my Voice. I am not certain creating another account for me would be wise, seeing as how you have blurred many of the lines between the movie adaption and the book, as it is. There cannot be two Angels of Music.

Comments

[nomatteryourmask]

Erik...

[A soft smile.]

I would not have kissed you if I had thought of you as no more than a friend.

[theoperaghost]

[He can't help himself; he advances toward her and pulls her into an embrace.]

This I am very glad to hear.

[nomatteryourmask]

[She's a bit surprised at suddenly being held, but she leans into Erik's arms and smiles.]

I am sure. You are doing well?

[theoperaghost]

[He almost provides a smile to her as well. Admittedly, he is feeling much less gloomy in her presence.]

As well as can be expected, my dear Christine.

[His bony hand gingerly reaches up to comb through her beautiful, long hair, in an affectionate gesture.]

(( ooc: Terribly sorry for being late on this and absent for the next few days; final project and finals are coming up in one class and midterms in the other. ))

[nomatteryourmask]

[She places a kiss to his chin, where his mask ends. She places her hand against the smooth ceramic, and lifts it just a little, so that she may kiss his flesh cheek.]

I have missed you, Erik.

(ooc: ain't no problem shug.)

[theoperaghost]

[The Phantom feels his eyes grow misty as she kisses his chin. At first, he cringes when he feels her fingers begin lifting his mask. But, he forces himself not to react more than this, allowing her to do as she pleases. And at the kiss to the cheek, well... it still brings a swell of love to his heart, and the tears that were resting in his eyes do begin to fall.]

And I you, Christine. More than mere words can say. Not even my music would.

[After this, however, he lets go of her, if only so that he can look at her, and even reach up to touch her cheek. His hands are still bony and cold, but the smile on his skeletal face shows nothing but warmth. It would still surely look terrifying to any passers-by.]

[nomatteryourmask]

I would not say that. You have certainly conveyed how you feel beautifully in your ballads.

[She reaches to his face with a soft hand and brushes Erik's tears against the back of her finger. She pushes her face forward when he takes her heart-shaped face into his hands. Though bony and cold, they are still Erik, and her skin is warm.]

Never forget music.

[theoperaghost]

I shan't be able to, my dear. Music and I are inseparable, now. I cannot think of a time when we ever were separate.

[In response to her kindness and affection, Erik tilts his head up to plant a soft kiss on her forehead. He's getting used to this displays of affection thing, slowly.]

Of course, my music is nothing without your voice.