#ofsoprano

“I’m not asking you to understand, Raoul! I’m asking you to listen!”

“Christine! I don’t know why you’re so--”

“Because you try to stand here in my place and tell me how I’m feeling! Raoul, what happened in Paris is always going to be a part of me. You went through horrendous things but when it comes to him--”

“He is irrelevant to this conversation!”

“He is everything to this conversation, Raoul. My darling, I love you and I am sorry for what happened to us. But, I’m not apologizing for still grieving about it. I never have and I never will. I’m not asking you to understand. I’m asking you to please love me for it.” They stared at each other, tired and confused. Thankfully, Philippe and Marguerite were at a friend’s home; she would hate for the children to see their parents arguing about things she never wanted them to know.

Their marriage was strong; their love, stronger, but when Erik’s death passed every year, it was tenuous in the de Chagny home. Sometimes, it passed without conflict. This year, was the opposite. Raoul and Christine learned a lot about how to talk to each other, but unfortunately, were human.

Sighing, Raoul wordlessly kissed Christine’s forehead before walking out of their sitting room. The door to his study shut, where she’d leave him until they were both ready to talk again. She would knit, or go for a walk, or cry, but they would find peace eventually.

What she forgot that Victor was planning on coming over today.

And he had a key.

Christine turned the corner out of the parlor to Victor standing silently in their home at the front door. Damn-- Christine stood a little straighter.

“We’re fine,” she said, tired. Was it the argument or Erik’s death or the particular way her growing child was spinning against her ribs that had her so tense?

(and also like don't tell me he wouldn't be here for the elaborate af edm music.)

(I read this as “four shots of straight moonshine” at first and was just CHRISTINE YOU DO YOU BUT CHRISTINE YOU OKAY)

@ofsoprano | send ◎ and a question, and my muse must answer, even if it’s a secret ( accepting )

Ariel groaned and ran a hand down her face, not caring how it skewed her glasses. She had thought that the park would be a good place to clear her head a little so she could focus more on her homework, but if anything, it had only made it harder. The sun was shining and all around her were people on bikes or having picnics or sipping on iced tea from some cafe or other. In short, actually enjoying the nice afternoon. Ariel wanted to be having fun too.

With a sigh, she draped herself dramatically across the bench, letting her arms flop over her head---and losing her grip on her notebook in the process. The spiral-bound book flew out of her hands, skidding across the ground and stopping only when it hit the feet of another girl sitting one bench down from her own. Scrambling to her feet, Ariel approached the girl with a sheepish grin.

(lol. Ariel. Splashing. I see what you did there.)

(EMILIE AUTUMN)