Shatterglass

Shatterglass
I do not own Phantom of the Opera.
SUMMERY:
When Christine Daae is offered the oppertunity of a lifetime, she and her blind sister, Chloe, are whisked off to Europe to tours with the masked rock and rolls star, Erik Destler...
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:
Many thank yous to my good friend, Angel Rose, for proofreading my fanfictions!!!

Erik Destler smiled at Christine one last time before stepping out onstage. The loud roar of the crowds almost deafened Christine; she was glad that she had left Chloe and Sammy back at the hotel.

When Erik opened his mouth and sang, shivers attacked Christine’s spine and she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to make herself warmer.

The lyrics were making her feel like her wanted to kiss him, they were that arousing. She had to fight the feeling that was barking at her to run onstage and start making passionate love with him.

About two hours later, Erik called out goodnight to his screaming fans before running offstage in a cloud of smoke.

“Christine!” he called out, jogging over to her, his head set microphone switched off. He reached out and tenderly toutched her cheek. She pressed her face into his hand, smiling softly as he eyes slid shut. Her mouth was opened a tiny bit, allowing him to see her tongue.


Erik swooped down and captured her lips in a passionate kiss before straightening up and scooping her into his powerful arms once more. He walked with her to his dressing room, where he carefully deposited her back onto the couch, propping her injured foot up with pillows.

“I’m going to change,” he murmured softly to her before kissing her once more. He stood up and removed his duster, vest and shirt. Christine couldn’t tear her eyes away from his body- he was firm and muscular everywhere- and holy shit- he had a fucking eight pack! “Like what you see?” Erik teased her, crouching down so that way their eyes were at level with each other. Christine hesitantly reached out and ran a finger down his firm chest, down to hwere the waistband of his jeans snuggly hugged his hips.

“We’ll have more time for this once we arrive at my apartment,” purred Erik, grabbing her hand and pressing little kisses to the palm of her hand. Christine giggled and leaned forward to kiss his cheek, but at the last moment, he twisted his face so that she kissed his mouth.

Christine deepened the kiss, her arms going to wrap around his neck as he placed his arms under her tiny body and lifted her. He broke off the kiss long enough to whisper that they were going through a pile of paperazzi who would be more than eager to get a picture of the two of them.

~oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO~

Christine smiled Erik left the concert hall. He had somehow or other managed to sneak her into the back of his Hearsh and she was waiting for him in the backseat, curled up with his leather jacket to keep her warm in the chilly May weather.

Her smile grew even bigger when Erik slid into the driver’s seat. He didn’t look at her until they were at least three blocks from the concert hall.

“That was painful,” he muttered at last, shaking his head as he remembered how hard it was for him to get through the crowd of fans and papperazzi.

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” remarked Christine dryly, leaning forward and kissing Erik’s cheek. He smiled and cupped her face with one hand.

“It was the worst thing that I could have ever gone though, my sweet Christine,” he responded, pulling up to a swank apartment complex. He pulled into the parking lot and parked at the top level before getting out. He straightened his jacket before helping Christine out.

“One of the best things about this place is that they’re aren’t any secreity cameras anywhere,” he informed Christine with a smile. “So I’m free to come and go as I please.”

Christine’s eyebrow quirked up. She knew that it must’ve been hard for Erik to do much of anything with his trademark white mask.

“Oh, it is hard,” he confessed with a chuckle, unlocking the door that led into the penthouse suites. “Careful, there are stairs!”

Erik scooped Christine into his arms and carried her down the staircase into the hallway, which was deserted at this time of night. Erik walked down towards the end of the hall and opened the door with a key. He kicked the door shut behind him and walked into the living room, where he gently placed Christine onto the couch and kissed her gently.

“I was thinking of Italian for dinner,” started Erik with a smile.

“My favorite,” Christine commented with a smile as Erik began to noodle around in the kitchen a bit. She propped herself up onto the couch so that way she sitting up and turned to watch him. It was strange for her to see someone who was famous doing something domestic like cooking. But she figured that it was normal for French to do their own cooking- even if they were rock stars.

Chrstine curled herself up as much as she could, wincing when her toes began to yell with agony. Erik noticed this and sped over with an ice pack wrapped in a dish towel. He knelt next to her feet and placed the ice pack onto her foot, asking her if the pain was fading.

“It feels better when you’re nearby,” she answered honestly with a small smile.

Erik chuckled and stood up.

“Christine, I’m only less then ten feet away,” he told her, shaking his head at her words before returning to the kitchen to continue cooking the ravioli and garlic bread. He had already tossed a salal and it was sitting off to one side with a bag of croutons sitting next to the big bowl.

“Bon appetit,” quipped Erik with a chuckle, coming out of the kitchen with a plate of food and handing it to Christine, along with a glass of red wine.

“Thank you, but I’m alergic to alcohol,” she informed him with a small smile.

“Oh.” Erik was furious with himself for forgetting what Chloe told him earlier that day. “I’m sorry, I forgot- would you like some lemonaid instead?” he asked her, deterined to make up for his blunder.

“Sounds great,” Christine told him and he stood, taking her wine glass as his own and grabbing a cup, filling it with lemonaid from the refridgerator.

“Here we go,” Erik handed her the glass before sitting in a tall armchair that was next to a bookcase stuffed with volumes.

“What are you reading right now?” Christine asked him, taking a mouthful of her meal. God, he was a good cook!

“Bel Ami,” answered Erik, picking up the heavy volume and showing it to Christine with a smile. “It was made into a movie in 1939- I have the Dvd if you would care to watch it,” he offered, figuring that she would say no.

To his surprise, she agreed to watch it and he went on a hunt to track down the elusive DVD, giving Christine a great view of his rear. Once he had located it, he slid the DVD into the TV and sat back on the couch with Christine nestled up next to his, her head on his chest, her body almost on top of his.

While Erik was watching the movie, Christine was using this time to examine him. He was strong physically, she didn’t have a doubt about that- his body was RIPPED. but his mask...

Christine found herself wondering what laid behind him, but she didn’t want to ask him so early in their relationship.

Their relationship...

What were they?

At that moment, the film ended and Erik kissed her sweetly, his lips lingering on her mouth for a minute longer than nessecery.

Christine moaned and snuggled herself more into his warm embrace. His tongue darted out and traced her lips and she opened them on pure instint. Their tongues tangoed together as Christine groaned orgasimly, her arms circling around Erik’s neck once more. She sighed with comtept as Erik scooped her into his strong arms and carried her into the master bedroom.