The Lady Or the Beauty

A Soul's Beauty

Erik's POV

Christine said that my disfigurement was a crucial part of my beauty. Time and time again, I kept wondering...how did she think that? Couldn't she see the horrid face behind the mask that was like a mirror to the demon trapped inside of me?

But I knew, that for her sake, I must try to understand her reasoning. I didn't know how, but I'd try.

I'd try because I loved her. Deeply. More than that damned Vicomte ever could. I loved her for her beauty on the inside, the angel that lurked within her soul. He loved her for her beauty on the outside.

That Raoul de Chagny could never even imagine the passion I felt towards her. My Christine. My angel, who would never hurt soul, guilty or innocent.

It pained me to see her lying there on the bed, unconscious, unhealthily pallid. An angel did not deserve this treatment, this...punishment. An angel deserved respect and rewards for her actions.

Nadir strode into the bedroom. "The doctor will be here soon," he told me as his eyes met my own desperate ones. "He'll determine what the hell is going on."

I nodded, running a hand through my dark hair in worry.

************************************

Even though it was only a few minutes later that the doctor arrived, it felt like eons to me.

When he stalked through the front door, I grabbed his shoulders, not caring that he would immediately label me as crazy beyond repair. "You have to tell me she'll live!"

The doctor regarded me from under his spectacles. "Son, I suggest you allow me to examine her before I accidentally deliver any false information."

I recoiled from his sarcasm and the fact that called me son, even though I was about a good thirty years younger than him.

Nadir ushered him into Christine's bedroom, and he quickly began to work on her.

I waited impatiently as he completed his last task-checking her pulse, which I considered as an idiotic act, since she's quite obviously alive-and sat back.

I closed my eyes, begging for it to be good news, that it's only an illness that will fade, but the first thing he stated made my blood run cold.

"Oh, dear."