A Love Already Blossomed

Chapter 8

A/N: I'm sorry it took so long to publish this part. I've been really busy lately so I haven't been able to publish anything or edit anything. Anyway, enjoy this chapter!
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Third Person POV

After what happened with Erik, Y/N walked to her room, thinking about what had just occurred. Erik had almost kissed her. Had it been an accident? Was it on purpose? Was it just lust?

Y/N sat on her bed, pondering on her many reoccurring thoughts. Did this mean that Erik liked her? Did it mean that he got over Christine? No; he couldn't have. He can't like her and he had not gotten over Christine. He never will get over her. He said it himself just a few days ago. Y/N heard him with her own ears. She remembered this moment as clearly as though it had just happened.

Erik was having another fit of depression and anger that day. His music was scattered on the floor, thrown down in his fit of rage and his table that held all of his art supplies was overturned. Hot tears were flowing down his face and his hands were shaking as he was trying to compose himself. However, his brain and muscles wouldn't listen and kept doing what they wished whenever they wished.

Y/N came over to Erik and placed a hand on his tensed shoulder. Erik jerked at the weight on his shoulder, stiffened, and shoved her hand off. He turned around, his mouth turned down, trying to fight a snarl. His nostrils were flared and his eyebrows were curled down, causing his eyes to create and perfect his face of anger. His eyes were shaded a dark blue color, almost black, and tears were swimming in them.

"Erik, please. It's been almost two months," Y/N said. "You have been stuck, wallowing in depression and anger for most of those months. You are practically starving yourself and you refuse to go outside. Do you realise what that girl did to you? She left you to starve, to spend the rest of your life depressed and lashing out at whoever tries to tell you that this isn't good for you. It's not healthy. I can't stand seeing you this broken. I wish for the funny, cunning Erik who likes to scare people as a joke. I wish for the Erik who goes on and on about his favourite composers and musicians.

"Erik, you have lost your interests, your personality, and your heart telling yourself that it was awful of you to treat her this way, that it was awful of you to have fought for her like that when it was really her who did everything you blame yourself for. She was an idiot to have been so careless around an opera ghost. She was careless. She toyed with both you and the Viscount at the same time and you have the nerve to blame yourself for it?

"You have the nerve to call yourself guilty of what she did? She hadn't taken into account your feelings and she hadn't even thought about whether you would kill people for her or not. She thought you didn't love her enough to fight for her. She thought you were just a teacher when you showed her all of the signs of love that you could have. She never took into account your feelings and your past. She always thought she was the most unfortunate human being in the opera house. Christine never thought about if you actually gave your life to her, teaching her how to read music and to sing. Christine never took into account your feelings, and the fact that she might have been your life, your only love, only muse, and only Angel of Music. She didn't understand that you valued your life as well as hers and that she was the one that taught you the only form of love that you have ever known. She always jumped to conclusions about how you killed thousands of people just because you were cold hearted and cruel. She never thought about what was behind your mask and if you wanted to hide it o not. She never understood why you killed Joseph Buquet. You just wanted to shut his mouth before he told the whole opera house what you looked like and how you were supposedly the ugliest man ever to cross his path. You wanted him to stop calling you things you weren't before the news of your apparent 'hideousness' reached Christine, your only love, and practically your life.