The Phantom Ascending |✔| [Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction]

For Eternity

Erik

I locked the door and leaned against them. Christine lit a lamp and pulled apart the curtains, and then seemed to be at a loss. I waited for her to speak, but she was obviously nervous, and what worried me the most was the fact that at one moment she would be staring at me, studying me, and then the next she'd quickly look away, as if she disliked what she saw.

Perhaps she expected something more. Perhaps even with a whole face, I could not match her foppish vicomte, or that journalist puppy. Yet, I could not ask her that, could I? My pride would not allow it.

"So I saw you enjoyed yourself greatly, dancing and dining with your guests."

"Yes, I have!" she beamed at me. "And they're our guests."

"I could do without Nadir, now that I've seen how much he enjoyed playing host with you. Not to mention the waltz," I grumbled. "He had you blushing like a schoolgirl."

"Because we talked about you."

"Oh."

My confused reaction made her laugh, and she walked toward me, hesitant at first, but then she raised her chin.

"You wouldn't really ruin our wedding day with meaningless jealousy, would you?"

"Of course not. I merely thought it might serve as an excellent conversation starter," I said dryly, and she laughed once more.

"Good. Oh, Erik. Oh, sweet heavens. It's so different, seeing you like this. You are stunning. You are beautiful. Is that bad of me, to like seeing you this way?"

"No. Of course not," I quietly replied. So she did find me beautiful. Relief washed over me.

She stared at me, her beautiful brown eyes still wide with wonder, and then she frowned.

"I feel tempted into anger, at fate or at God, because of what you were robbed of. A normal life, a happy childhood, a brilliant youth..."

"...And a sensational career," I finished her sentence, walking around her and gesticulating for emphasis. "My renown would match that of Mozart -- or perhaps not? Given ample opportunity to sing on stage, I would probably have less time to compose, and be more of a singer. Ah, but what a singer! I would be worse than the worst prima donna. I would drive scores of opera managers into madness, and the perfection I'd demand of the musicians would drive them to tears... Should I continue?"

Christine was now laughing without restraint.

"No, no need. You are horrible. And you know it! Then why do you persist?"

"All worthy music deserves a champion. If I hear flaws in a performance, I refuse to ignore them. I will not compromise when it comes to these things," I insisted.

"That's all right. I don't want you to," Christine said, and then shot me a wide smile. "And you seem to be in an unusually good mood tonight."

I pulled her into a waltzing position, hummed the beginning to get us started, and we continued to dance to an imaginary tune. One-two-three, two-two-three.

"Yes, because I am in a good mood."

"Is it... Forgive me for asking, but is it because of the faerie mask? Are you happier now, wearing it?"

And the implied question was: will you be unhappy again once the mask disappears?

"Mask could be a part of it," I answered carefully. "For months, I wanted you to see me like this, and now you have. I survived the torturous evening, watching that dinner party of yours, and meeting everyone afterwards even though it made my skin crawl to present myself to them so openly, in full light. And now I can enjoy this nocturnal tranquility with you alone -- my bride." I paused and we stood in place.

"My bride. It's our wedding day, Christine. Isn't that incredible? You will spend your days with me," I spoke the words to better taste them, then swirled her around again.

"Yes," she replied serenely, "I certainly will."

One-two-three, two-two-three.

The oil in the lamp burned out, leaving us dancing in the blue moonlight. In truth, I merely wanted to practice in case I am forced to dance in public tomorrow, but Christine's dancing proved to be so superb, that I ended up enjoying myself.

"And you're wearing the pearls. Don't think I haven't noticed," I whispered.

"Oh, I knew you would notice," she grinned.

I halted the dance then, and kissed her, and kept kissing her, and she relaxed into my arms, her silk dress rustling against my suit. She smelled of roses, and her hair was soft underneath my fingers. When I finally pulled away, our eyes locked.

"I want to spend every minute of today with you, but we should stop now. We need to put a wall between us, and one I cannot tear down with my bare hands," I murmured.

"I... Yes. You are right. Sadly."

I laughed a little then, and it was a strange thing, that laugh, not calculating or menacing, but rather honest, and free of pain and bitterness. It was perhaps a first such laugh I ever experienced, and it left me feeling free and elated, as if my internal chains have shifted a little, loosened its firm hold around my soul.

"Christine, you will probably never know just how much you have done for me. Just what you -- this all -- means to me. To not be alone anymore--"

She threw herself at me and hugged me tightly, and it was an innocent hug, the love in it somehow different from the sensual one that charged the atmosphere just minutes earlier.

"My poor love. I can't imagine how much you suffered. I, too, have been lonely in my life, but never as much, never as utterly isolated. I love you, Erik. I love how much effort you put into changing your ways and reaching out to me in a way that I could accept. I am here now. And I will always stand by your side. Forever."

My mind went blank, speechless, and I could do nothing but hold her. And then it was time to go, before she reduces me to a trembling mess.

"My Christine. You are perfect. I know I don't deserve you one bit, and yet I can't feel bad for cheating the fate and seizing this chance at happiness."

"Don't feel bad. It's my happiness, too."

I smiled.

"You never run out of kindness, do you? Good night, my muse and savior," I whispered and kissed her hand. She smiled back at me and softly sang:

"Good night, my Angel of Music."

And tomorrow at this hour, she will be my wife. I kept that thought with me as I withdrew, and it echoed in my every heartbeat. The morning couldn't come fast enough.