Some of you may have read this on my DA page, but I decided to rewrite it a bit. Enjoy...
CHAPTER ONE
Christine Daae stared out of the library window. Her gaze fixed on the distant opera house. She couldn't let Raoul know that her heart lay elsewhere, it'd destroy him. She sighed as soft tears flowed down her cheeks. She wiped her eyes and drew the bolt back from the door. Raoul allotted time limits for her privacy; ever since the incident with the letter opener. She hadn't been thinking clearly, if her attempts had worked the next man she'd have seen was her maker.
She found she had returned to the window, her gaze back on the opera house. She had, to be honest, always known where she belonged, since 'Hannibal'. It was true she'd feared him; however, as he'd predicted her fear had become love, she had learned to see.
How could she have been so blind? Christine Daae, choosing money and a pretty face over the man who had given her everything she could ever need; talent, undying love, protection. She sighed again and whispered his name.
"Erik…" she started to sing
"All I want is freedom
A world with no more light
And you, always beside me…"
"You have me already" Raoul's military honed arms closed around her. "Christine… my love, why are you crying?" His blue eyes followed her gaze. "Ah, I understand, you need not worry he let us go we won, he won't bother you again."
He took her hand and spun her to face him. He rooted in his inside pocket and produced a small casket, offered it to her and opened it. Christine winced and tried to turn it into a genuine smile.
Inside the box was a white gold band set with a large elaborate pink gem, cut into the shape of a rose. She placed the thing on her finger.
"Thank you Raoul, it's… beautiful," She lied. "but I couldn't wear it every day."
She removed it and replaced it in the box. Raoul's face fell.
"Very well Christine," He kissed her hand. "I Shall put it in the vault."
When she was alone again she shuddered in disgust; she hated the thing, it looked so cheap and gaudy, like everything he gave to her, the bridal gown and veil he'd had made for her. Why was everything he did, about buying her happiness: he could never give her what she needed. Never.
That night, Christine awoke suddenly, she'd had an epiphany. She knew what she had to do. She rose and dressed in a simple mauve dress and some slippers. She crossed to the desk and wrote.
I'm sorry.
She slipped the paper into an envelope and addressed it.
M. le Vicompte de Chagny
She donned a travelling cloak and slipped out of the room. Down by the front door Christine put the note on the silver platter on which Joseph, the butler, brought all letters to the breakfast table. Christine quietly opened the door and slipped into the night.
There we go, Erik comes into it in the next chapter.