The Point of No Return

MademoiselleOperaGhost

She couldn't believe she was going to do this. Trap her teacher- her Angel of Music in the first and only performance of Don Juan Triumphant. But she must, Christine told herself. How she felt about him did not matter, the way he set her body ablaze with desire was irrelevant. Her dreams of him held no significance over the law. The Phantom of the Opera had murdered, he was a vile sinner. If he was so bad, why couldn't Christine stop weeping over what she was about to do?

"Cristine, are you about ready, my love?" Raoul asked from behind the door.

"Yes, almost," she replied. Christine looked in the mirror and placed a delicate flower in the gentle curls of her hair. She strove to keep the tears that were building inside her from surfacing. The longer she gazed in the mirror putting off the performance, the longer she stared into the glass behind which the passage to his dark dwelling rested. She sighed. Raoul, like everyone who was connected to the opera house, was waiting for the prey to lure the predator into the custody of the police.

Miss DaaƩ looked down in shame at her ivory fingers resting on the black satin-like cloth of her skirt. A single tear fell into the sea of black that was her costume. She quickly dismissed the urge to weep and stood, making her way across the room to the door. She grabbed the silver handle weakly, her nerves causing that small motion of curling her fingers around the cold silver almost unbearable. Christine mustered up all her courage, taking a deep breath before pulling the handle and exiting the room that was so full of despair.

Raoul smoothed out the wrinkles of the costume with his slender, soft fingers, "You look lovely, Christine." She didn't feel lovely at all. He bent in to kiss her and she slowly placed a frosted peck on his lips before moving to the stage with haste, needing to be away from him. From the world.

Not long after, the play commenced. She said her lines with perfect grace. She sang her songs with a passionate, angelic voice that she possessed because of one and one alone. The man who made her heart sing- her Angel of Darkness. Oh, how she hoped for him to appear, how she silently pleaded for him to hear her heart and whisk her away to his magnificent world of music. She continued to sing and smile with perfect poise and sing with exact pitch. She knew she was making him proud with her song.

Nearing the end of the opera, the melody of "The Point of No Return" began. Christine's heart beat strangely faster, almost as if she could feel her angel near. As she heard Don Juan begin to sing, heart heart stopped:

You have come here
in pursuit of your deepest urge,
in pursuit of that wish, which till now has been silent,
silent . . .
I have brought you,
that our passions may fuse and merge -
in your mind you've already succumbed to me
dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me -
now you are here with me:
no second thoughts,
you've decided,
decided . . .
Past the point of no return -
no backward glances:
the games we've played till now are at an end . . .
Past all thought
of "if" or "when" -
no use resisting:
abandon thought, and let the dream descend . . .
What raging fire shall flood the soul?
What rich desire unlocks its door?
What sweet seduction lies before us . . .?
Past the point of no return,
the final threshold -
what warm, unspoken secrets will we learn?
Beyond the point of no return . . .

It was him. She looked to her left, to see his handsome masked face moving closer to her as he advanced toward Christine. Her porcelain skin became colored with a beautiful light pink hue. The Opera Ghost seemed to smile, as if to know the cause of the change. He stepped even closer before she realized it was her turn to sing. She would make her teacher proud:

You have brought me
to that moment where words run dry,
to that moment where speech disappears into silence;
silence . . .
I have come here,
hardly knowing the reason why . . .
In my mind, I've already imagined our bodies entwining
defenseless and silent -
and now I am here with you:
no second thoughts, I've decided,
decided . . .

Past the point of no return -
no going back now:
our passion play has now, at last, begun . . .
Past all thought of right or wrong -
one final question:
how long should we two wait, before we're one . . .?
When will the blood begin to race?
The sleeping bud burst into bloom?
When will the flames, at last, consume us . . .?

When she finished her part, she glanced at the world around her finally waking from the trance of song to find him right beside her. She turned the color of the reddest rose as she coiled his grip around her slim waist. He pulled her close, breathing on her neck warmly, heavily. Surges of desire coursed through Christine's body. She gasped slightly as he brushed her lips against the crook of her neck before pushing her away slightly, cuing her to move to the other side of the stage as they both began to sing while ascending up the wooden stairs set up on the stage:

Past the point of no return
the final threshold -
the bridge is crossed, so stand
and watch it burn . . .
We've passed the point
of no return . . .

By the end of this verse, they were mere centimeters away from one another. The phantom twirled his Christine into his strong arms and held her hips tightly, holding her closer than he would allow any other to come. He placed his lips to her neck and kissed it fiercely before spinning her around in his grasp, moving his one hand under her chin. He leaned his lips into kiss her.

Christine's eyes filled with tears as she kissed him lovingly before pulling back to cry out, "It's a trap. The police are here to take you away from me, my angel. Don't let them, please. I love you." As the last part of her plea, the opera ghost's eyes too filled with tears.

The French police quickly began to move in on the couple, climbing the stage, panting as they slowly made their way to the floor of the stage before standing up and making their way to the stairs. The phantom of the opera held his angel of music protectively before pulling the rope of the chandelier, causing it to fall into the crowd of people in the seats while he pulled her off the stairs, into the fake flames of the stage. Christine closed her eyes in fear, but to her surprise, did not hit the ground. She fell into water. She grasped her teacher tightly as he pulled her to the waters edge safely, hoisting her to the ledge of the pool where many stairs awaited. He leaped out of the brisk waters himself, waisting no time taking his beloveds' hand and pulling her down the stairs and through many winding passages.

To be continued..

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~MademoiselleOperaGhost