A/N: Here I am once again! Well, fist of all, I want to express my never-ending gratitude for you all that reviewed my first phic, you don't have any idea of how much it meant to me! Thank you, thank you, thank you! And, please, keep reviewing ;) Anyway, let's talk about this one: in the beginning, I wrote it as an one chapter story, but I just kept thinking about it and wrote too much, so Occulte will have many chapters. The story starts in the morning after the musical ending and it's entirely narrated by Christine. Hope you like it! As always, tell me if I commit any grammar error, okay? Oh, and review!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, I'm just a poor little girl looking for a happy end. Erik, Christine, the Fop and the others belongs to Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay (although I'm still trying to find a Brazilian Phantom's version or buy the English/American one for a reasonable price...), Andrew Lloyd Webber and the RUG.

Occulte

Chapter I – Save a prayer 'til the morning after

I can easily recall all my way through the long and winding road that leaded me to his door. It will never disappear and I remember it now as I did before.

Even some hours later in that day, still my thoughts couldn't be consistent. Have I lost my second chance? Or was it only a dream? I wondered in confusion. God, give me courage to find out. Give me courage to search for my Angel. These same crowded streets I'm walking on now, were part of my journey in the past.

XxxX

I wrapped the blankets around me after Raoul closed the door and left me all alone. He stayed in my room for what seemed hours, watching me as I pretended to be asleep. All the time, he tried to say without words that it was all right. But I knew that it wasn't.

I didn't know what time it could be and, honestly, I didn't want to. I just knew that it was still morning – the morning after the night that decided my destiny.

I stayed on an inn's bed since the arrival, my eyes shut and my mind racing to him. I would only have thoughts, because I had thrown away the chance to have him. Why? Why had I fled from him when all I wanted to do was remain in his arms? The memory of our kiss struck my mind. It had been like an epiphany, when I recognized my own feelings. That minute, I knew what I wanted: I wanted to follow my heart – I wanted to stay. But just when I had made my choice, he sent me away. How could I, the disobedient chorus girl, obey this time?

My desperate wanders were suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps. They weren't Raoul's; he had noisy, prepotent footsteps – typically aristocratic. The footsteps I was hearing were extremely faint, somehow even elegant, if I could tell it by a simple sound. Who could it be now?

Cold fingers caressing my cheek answered my question. Those fingers... they could only belong to...

"Erik."

I opened my eyes and he instantly withdrew his hand. Yes, the Phantom of the Opera was there – inside my room. While I managed to stand up, he recoiled to a darker spot.

"Christine." He said, his powerful voice reduced to a whisper. The peculiar way he pronounced my name hadn't changed, but he had. Although he still wore a mask, I could see the intense sadness and deception on his expression in a way he had never allowed me to see before. His clothes were full of mud and his cape almost destroyed, opposing to his habitual elegance. I wondered with concern and guilt if the mob had found him or at least been close to achieve that goal.

"I was worried about you," with so many things to tell him, I could only say that.

"Don't be," he said with bitterness, "I'm not worthy of your concern."

"You know it isn't true," I approached him slowly, sensing his body stiffens.  

He made no reply. Maybe he had no words, or maybe was just trying to avoid more contact.

"I was afraid that you..." I hesitated and left the phrase unfinished.

"As you can see, I am not dead," he muttered and turned away brusquely. "I couldn't die without even looking at you for the last time. It wasn't in my plans, however, to find you wide awake."

"Erik," I started, taking more steps towards him and forcing him to look at me, "leave you was the biggest mistake I have ever committed. Forgive me, please."

"There is nothing to be forgiven. You've made your choice," he clenched his fists in an effort to contain the pain expressed in those words. "After all, he is handsome, noble and will live with you in the sunlight. You will be happy with him."

"I will be happy with you," I reached out to touch his face, but his hand caught mine before I could complete the action.

We remained silent, our hands entwining, during an instant. When our gazes met, I read the uninterrupted battle of feelings within his eyes: despair, hope, disbelief, faith, rage, love. His eyes mirrored mine. I wanted that moment to last forever, but Erik released my hand and moved backwards.

"Don't forget me. I will never forget you," he made his way to the window and I panicked when I realized what he was about to do.

"Erik, don't go away! Don't leave me! I..."

"I love you." These last three words came out of my mouth as I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. The same white blankets were enveloping me and my head was resting on the same pillow. I would be the same if it weren't for a ray of light that changed everything, coming from the open window.