Work Text:
What was he doing. Erik stared into space- maskless, watching dust motes float in the air. Only a room away Christine was sleeping peacefully, still under the mistaken belief he was her angel of music. Guilt clawed his throat.
Disgusting, he thought, kidnapping a girl 1/2 your age and practically bringing her to your bed. Only you could sink that low. His inner voice for a moment took the tone and inflection of his old friend, Nadir. Erik could almost imagine the Persian sitting across from him and berating him. You’re disgusting.
No I’m not, Erik tried defending himself I’m her teacher!
That doesn’t give you a right to her- she is allowed to fall in love
She should devote herself purely to music!
You wouldn’t say that if you were the one she fell in love with
I-
But she would never do that, would she? You’re hideous and she would run the moment she saw you.
But
You don’t deserve her- you never have- you hideous, monstrous bea-
His fingers slammed into the keys of the organ as his mental voice took on the scathing tone of his deceased mother.
nO NO NO NO NO NO-
Erik’s fingers pounded into the keys, forcing the harsh notes to go louder and louder until,
“Angel?” Christine asked.