Christine's peaceful slumber was stirred as someone's nimble fingers gently stroked her jaw line, trailing up her face to her cheek in a soothing motion. Her dark lashes fluttered open to reveal strikingly beautiful emerald eyes as she looked up to meet the gaze of the man to whom those torturous fingers belonged to. Erik stared at the young soprano intently, his fingers still tracing soft circles around her jaw, and gently moved a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
"Good morning, angel..." Christine whispered, distracted by the constant movement of his fingers, the very same fingers that composed haunting melodies, across her soft skin.
"Good morning, my Christine," he murmured back with a small smile. The masked man slowly reached down and took her small hand, enveloping it with his rather large palm. "If you wouldn't mind, there is something that I would like to let you listen to," Erik said softly, a flicker of excitement across his golden eyes as he looked down at the young soprano.
Christine raised an elegant brow, curious about what he could have meant by that. "Of course, angel..." She agreed quietly, nodding her head as she readjusted so she was sitting up in bed. She felt minor disappointment when his hand left her face; his apparent joy at her acceptance making her heart flutter lightly in her chest as she felt her cheeks start to flush. If he noticed, he did not comment upon this fact, much to the young soprano's relief.
Erik's smile broadened across his face as he looked at his young fiancée. "Then I shall leave you to get ready," he murmured, his eyes glowing warmly. He kissed Christine's hand, his eyes never leaving her's, and strode across the room to walk outside the door.
Christine slowly pushed back the soft blankets off of her body and begrudgingly got out of the large bed. She walked over to her closet and turned the golden door knob, revealing racks of beautiful dresses. The young soprano had often seen the apparel of the respectable women who came to see the operas, wearing such lovely extravagant clothing that she had only dreamt of being able to wear something so beautiful. Christine excitedly slipped out of her nightgown and put on a flowy light pink dress. A bow adorned the fabric against the small of her back, and a built-in corset trimmed her already small figure to accentuate her curves pleasingly.
Satisfied, Christine walked out of her closet and back into her bedroom, heading towards her large white vanity propped against the far wall of the room. She gently brushed through her chestnut curls and pulled back the top half of her hair with a pink ribbon so that it was out of her face. After she was finished, she quickly slipped out of door and walked down the to music room where she knew Erik would be waiting for her.
As the young soprano walked down the narrow halls, anxiety coursed through her veins. Christine remembered how last night she had decided to tell her angel of her true feelings, and, although she was nervous, she was determined to go through with her plan. Her hands started to involuntarily play with her dress as she advanced towards the music room. The dress scrunched in between her small fingers, causing it to slightly wrinkle. Christine looked down at the dress and quickly dropped the fabric, trying to flatten it back out with her hands.
She got to the tall doorway and she slowly opened the door, revealing a large organ which Erik was sitting at, his back turned away from Christine.
"Erik?" She called softly, her hands starting to play with her dress again. He slowly turned around and faced the young soprano. She stood in the doorway, looking as beautiful as ever in her form flattering pink dress, and he found himself smiling at the thought of her putting an effort to see him, although it is unnecessary, with her natural angelic beauty.
He smiled gently, noticing her fidgety actions, and he wished to distract her from whatever was causing her to act this way. "Come, my Christine. I wish to show you a part of the opera that I would like you to sing in," he said gently, gesturing for her to join him on the plush bench at the organ.
The young soprano nodded gracefully and strided towards him, again smoothing out her dress with a slight blush. Erik moved over on the bench, allowing Christine to sit down beside him.
He began to play the song, glancing over at Christine every once in awhile. His fingers danced across the white and black keys and Christine stared at them intently, the music washing over her.
The feeling was indescribable, just listening to his music, witnessing his obvious genius as the soft melodies swirled around her and infiltrated her soul. She found her eyes unable to concentrate on his nimble fingers across the organ's keys, instead letting them flutter closed with pure ecstasy at the alarmingly beautiful sound emitting from the instrument before them; she swayed lightly from side to side, a relaxed smile adorning her already lovely features.
Erik finished out the song and looked over at Christine for her approval.
"That was wonderful..." She whispered.
Erik smiled slightly, glad that she had liked the song.
"Erik..." She sighed softly. Erik slightly stiffened, he wasn't used to anyone ever using his name. He had always been called an "it" or "monster". The use of his name was absolutely foreign to him.
"Are you okay?" She asked, wondering why Erik had grew so rigid at the use of his name.
"Of course. What is it that you need?" He asked her softly, suddenly acutely aware of how close she was besides him.
"Well..." She trailed off, starting to play with her hands. "There's something that I want to tell you," she whispered, looking down.
Erik placed his finger under Christine's
chin and tilted her face up so that she was looking at him. Her bright emeralds shined at his own golden eyes, and the two simply looked at each other for a moment before he spoke.
"You know that can tell me anything, mon ange," he assured smoothly. He moved his hand up and resided it on her cheek. His thumb gently stroked the soft flesh and Christine slightly leaned into his touch with an ever-growing blush.
"I... I.... Well," she stuttered, not being able to concentrate because of his gentle touch against her cheek. She sighed softly, frustrated with herself. Why can't I just tell him how I feel? She thought to herself.
Christine took a deep breath and looked up at him. She placed her small hand on his unmasked cheek and closed her eyes. She leaned up and gently pressed her lips against his.
Erik gasped slightly at the sudden action but quickly returned the kiss. They slowly broke away and Erik smiled.
Christine looked up at him, a bright crimson blush forming on her cheeks. "So.. What I was saying was... I... I think..." She started but was interrupted by a loud banging sound.
Erik's head snapped to the side, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. "Stay right here," he muttered to the flustered girl.
The masked man stood up and walked out of the music room and out into the living area.
He looked around and saw a short man with a long, scraggly beard standing in front of him. Erik's eyes flashed in anger. It was the man who had been trying to find the notorious Opera Ghost ever since he had arrived.
"Ah... The infamous Phantom of the Opera. I've found him at last..." The man cackled madly, he had worked night and day to find the Opera Ghost. Ever since he had came to the opera house, the Phantom was all that he had thought about.
"Joseph Boquet..." Erik said through gritted teeth. "Either you leave now, resign your position at the opera house as a stagehand, and don't tell anyone of what you know, or I'll kill you," Erik grumbled in a soft, but frightening, tone of voice, not wanting Christine to know of the threat he had just made to the man. Joseph smirked and shook his head defiantly, not wishing to give in to Erik's command like so many others had before him.
Erik took a few long steps towards the man and grabbed him by the neck. He slammed him up against the wall and narrowed his eyes at him.
Joseph Boquet smirked, Erik's grip around his neck tightening. His life was on the line, but he wasn't about to give up just yet.
"Why would I do that? I could turn you in and collect the reward for the Opera Ghost's arrest," Joseph grumbled. Erik quickly turned around, keeping his hand tightly around Joseph's neck. He pulled out a punjab lasso and put it around Joseph's neck.
"I'm giving you one last chance. Either leave now and don't tell anyone of what you know or I'll kill you," he grumbled.
Joseph grunted and tried to push Erik off of him but Erik's muscular build was too heavy for Joseph to fight against.
Erik yanked the lasso and after awhile Joseph fell to the floor, dead. Erik shook his head and decided to move the man's dead body, not wanting Christine to know of the sin he had committed.
The thing Erik didn't know is that she had witnessed the whole thing.
The young soprano stood in the doorway, absolutely horrified at what she had just seen. She slowly walked out, watching Erik move his body. Christine started to walk but she stumbled, causing a slight gasp, which almost sounded like a sob, to emit from her mouth.
Erik looked up, meeting Christine's gaze. He immediately dropped the dead body that he was dragging across the floor and started to walk towards the young girl.
Christine started to back up, afraid of what Erik would do to her. She started to shake and tears filled her eyes. "Stay back... Don't hurt me!" She yelled.
Erik stopped his spot, hurt by the fact Christine would think that he would ever harm her. "I would never hurt you," he said in a soft whisper, his heart shattering into a million pieces because of how scared Christine seemed to be of him. The young soprano continued to back up until she was pressed against a wall. Erik walked forward so that she was forced the look at him. He placed his hands on the side of her face and tilted it up so that she was looking into his eyes.
"Please, don't touch me..." She whimpered agonizingly. Erik's hands stayed in place and he looked at the young soprano intently. "I said don't touch me!" She said more aggressively, but Erik didn't move.
"Christine, he would have turned me in for being the Opera Ghost. It was either me or him," he said. Christine swallowed, feeling like a large lump had formed in her throat. She felt sick; felt as if she was just punched in the gut; felt the realization of what she just discovered crashing over her like a wave, sucking her under the water to steal her breath and thrash her body around.
"You killed him..." She whispered, horrified. Erik moved his hands so they were on her shoulders. "Get away from me! I never want to see you again!" She screamed, her heart breaking.
"I did what I had to," he grumbled, pleading. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, hoping that if he showed her affection then she would understand that he was still her angel and nothing between the two of them had changed.
Christine's heart fluttered as he did so but her mind was screaming for her to push him off of her. Conflicting emotions rushed through her head until they were all too much for her to handle. She felt her body slump over and her eyes close as she fell into unconsciousness.
Erik sighed softly and scooped up Christine in his arms. He carried her to her room and set her down on the bed. He wrapped the blankets around her and looked over her small body. Tears of distraught streaked her cheeks, her brows furrowed in obvious anger and sorrow. He leaned down and softly kissed her forehead. "Please forgive me, my Christine," he whispered. He walked out of the room and into his own.
He sat down on the dark colored bed and buried his face into his hands.
Christine was his whole world and he couldn't stand the thought of her resenting him, just as his mother had.
Erik laid down on the bed and sighed softly. He loved her with everything in him and he would do absolutely anything to prove that to her. He sighed softly and fell into a restless sleep.
Meanwhile, in the other room, Christine slowly woke up. She looked around, her head throbbing.
"Erik?" She called softly, trying to remember what happened. She got no response and she sighed softly. The young soprano stood up and walked outside of her room. She looked across the hall to find Erik's bedroom door wide open. Christine peered in and found Erik fast asleep.
As soon as she saw him, all of her memories came rushing back. She let out a soft gasp and slowly backed away from Erik's room.
The young soprano rushed down the hall and into the main room. She grabbed a piece of parchment paper and a quill. With quick, loopy handwriting, she wrote a note and left it on Erik's organ for him to find later.
I won't tell. I'm sorry. Goodbye, angel.
She quickly looked around to make sure Erik wasn't awake, and then she did the only thing that she could do.
She ran.
She ran from a murderer; ran from her angel; ran from the one her heart yearned for. She ran from all of these people, but the sad thing was that they were all one and the same person.