![]() ![]() ![]() He would gladly take one of his torture chambers over this version of torment any day. With his keen eyesight and the way she stood in relation to the room's lamp he could see the outline of her lithe form through the chemise. Well, she waited for her Angel not him, there was a difference.ĭressed only in her chemise, her feet unprotected against the cold dressing room floor she walked to their mirror. ![]() She looked trusting and hopeful, she was waiting for him. In some ways his desperation to touch her was worse than his dependence on substances.Ī hand moved to rest against the mirror when she turned to face him innocently yet expectantly. At least the drug he could get his hands on. It was almost as if she was aware of him watching her hoping to catch a glimpse of the flesh he coveted as desperately as any drug. Her movements while she changed out of her costume and released her hair from its pins were slow and deliberate, seductive. She never undressed beyond her chemise, but it did not lesson his guilt. He felt like a letch watching as she changed after a performance. SUMMARY: Christine puts on a little show for Erik in her dressing room.ĬHARACTERS/PAIRING: Erik & Christine DaaeįEEDBACK: Please, I can't write better without it.Įrik watched, a lone figure little more than a shadow in the bowels of the Opera House. Behind the Mirror: A Phantom of the Opera FanficĭISTRIBUTION: My site, AO3,, LiveJournal. ![]()
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