Alrighty then, who wants another story? I know that I do! I should be drawing Christmas cards for my family that is coming to visit, but I'm sick and nothing is coming to me. First off, I want to let Anawey know that I will be right after Erik if someone tries to make a move on Arabelle! Read Always and Forever and Roses Blooming. Those are the best EC stories that I have ever read. No joke! Secondly, I just want to wish everyone a Merry Christmas and a Happy Almost 2010. Just think, it's the end of a decade...whatever. I was around at the change of the millennium. Who wants story time? Here we go!
A New Year's Surprise
Christine stormed into the chapel; tears streaming down her pretty pale cheeks. How she hated the other ballerinas! Why did they make fun of her? Look, it's the poor child whose father was the violinist. I hear that she had to...throwing her ballet slippers across the room, Christine curled up into a ball. I hear that she's insane! Belle found her talking to herself in the chapel the other day.
She hadn't been talking to herself! She had been talking with her angel! Her Angel of Music; her-
"Christine," the beautiful voice filled the chapel. Lifting her curly head from her lap, Christine raised her teary, brown eyes heavenward, "Why are you crying, my child? Especially on this special day."
"It's not a special day! The other ballerinas have been making fun of me. There are rumors floating about that I had to...do things to make sure that Papa and I had enough money. They called me insane, poor, ugly...oh, Angel! I just want to be in heaven with you and Papa! I hate it here." Christine wailed, wrapping her her thin arms around her petite frame. This was ridiculous! She was nearly 16 and she was crying over petty lies, but, for some reason, they tore at her heart more than usual.
"Don't cry, my dear. Those girls are wrong. You're a very beautiful, smart child who would never lower herself to what they are suggesting. Your papa is very proud of you." the Angel replied; a hint of anger lacing his words. Deciding to ignore the anger, Christine pressed on the subject of her papa.
"He is? I wish I could talk to him at least one last time." she sighed, remembering the day when he had passed. Had it really been 10 years ago since her papa died and left her all alone in the world?
"He is. Are you feeling better?"
"I am. Angel, could you show yourself to me? After all, today, like you said, is special." Christine asked hopefully. How she wanted her Angel of Music to be real! She loved him with all her heart and if he turned out to be a man, she would be the happiest girl in the world.
"I'm afraid I cannot, Christine." he replied, sadness coating his words this time. Why would her angel be sad? Today was supposed to be a wonderful day, even though the ballet brats had already ruined it for her.
"It's just something an angel cannot do. Trust me, my child, if I was allowed to, I would show myself to you."
"Oh, Angel. I wish you could. I'm so lonely here. Madame Giry is kind, but her daughter, Meg, is just like the other ballerinas." Christine whispered hoarsely. Meg had been her only friend when she was first brought to the opera by her mama, but, within a few weeks, Meg had turned her back on her and decided that she was no better than the stagehands.
"I know, Christine, I know. Don't cry anymore. Is there anything I can do to make this up to you?" the Angel asked warmly. Even if she couldn't depend on flesh and blood friends, Christine could always count on her angel to help her and be there for her.
"Could you sing to me? Usually I'm the one singing." she requested. How she loved the Angel's voice! It could produce so many emotions within her and make her feel so warm, but sometimes, it could make her feel cold and hollow inside. Luckily, those times were very few; they only happened when she got into heaps of trouble, which she usually avoided. Hearing the Angel take a breath, Christine closed her eyes and waited for whatever song he was going to sing,
Le Premier Noël, les Anges ont vraiment dit
Était à de certains pauvres bergers dans les champs comme ils se trouvent
Dans les champs où ils posent la sauvegarde de leurs moutons
Sur la nuit d'un hiver froid qui était si profond.
Le Noël, le Noël, le Noël, le Noël
Né est le Roi de l'Israël!
Ils ont levé les yeux et ont vu une étoile
Le fait de briller à l'Est au-delà d'eux loin
Et à la terre il a donné la grande lumière
Et donc il a continué tant jour que nuit.
Le Noël, le Noël, le Noël, le Noël
Né est le Roi de l'Israël!
Et par la lumière de cette même étoile
Trois hommes Sages sont venus du pays loin
Rechercher un Roi était leur intention
Et suivre l'étoile où qu'il soit allé.
Le Noël, le Noël, le Noël, le Noël
Né est le Roi de l'Israël!
Cette étoile s'est rapprochée au nord-ouest
Sur Bethlehem il a pris son reste
Et là il les deux a vraiment Marqué une pause et le séjour
Directement sur l'endroit où Jésus se trouve.
Le Noël, le Noël, le Noël, le Noël
Né est le Roi de l'Israël!
Alors entré dans ces hommes Sages trois
Complet vénérablement sur leur genou
Et offert là en Sa présence
Leur or et la myrrhe et l'encens.
Le Noël, le Noël, le Noël, le Le Noël
Né est le Roi de l'Israël!
His voice was sweet and low and it made Christine feel safe. She felt that she could face those ballerinas without caring if they called her names again or not. Yawning, Christine curled up on the stone floor; her arms forming a pillow underneath her curly head.
"Goodnight, Angel." she whispered before she slipped into a dreamless sleep.
^.^
Erik chuckled lightly as he watched his Christine fall asleep peacefully on the floor. He knew that he should leave and hope that someone would stumble upon her sleeping form, but, he couldn't. Flicking a switch, part of the wall sprung open, revealing himself to the world. Walking slowly over to her sleeping body, Erik carefully picked up Christine and began to walk back to the wall.
Looking down at her, Erik couldn't believe that this girl was in his arms; she had beautiful brown curls, expressive chocolate colored eyes, perfect rose lips...no! He couldn't think of her like that! He couldn't fall in love with her; he absolutely couldn't. Not when she couldn't return that love.
Christine smiled slightly in her sleep; she could feel to strong arms cradling her as if she were going to break. Who could possibly be holding her? None of the girls were strong enough and Madame Giry would have told her to wake up and scold her for falling asleep in such a place. Opening her eyes just a crack, Christine drew in a deep breath. The man who was holding her was handsome beyond reasoning! A strong jaw, high cheekbones, slightly tan skin, full, pale pink lips, thick, raven hair, and two dazzling golden eyes that made her melt just to look at. Suddenly, his head swiveled to look behind him and she noticed the white mask that sat almost delicately on his face. Why does such a handsome man need a mask? What could he possibly be hiding?
Noticing that his gaze was coming down on her, Christine shut her eyes tightly; hoping that the man wouldn't see her looking at him.
"I know you're awake, Christine." the man said with a hint of a laugh in his voice. That voice...there was only one person who had that kind of voice...
"Angel?" she whispered with wonder. Her angel was a real person! She had so many questions whirling through her mind, but all she could think of was one, "You're a man?"
Sighing, Erik hung his head shamefully. Damn! Why did she have to wake up? If she could have waited until they reached her room, he could explain things, but, no; she just happened to wake up in his arms, in a dimly lit corridor, and no excuse to give her. Might as well come clean.
"I am. I-"
"I'm glad." she breathed, cutting the Angel off. Even though he wasn't a real angel anymore, she had no idea what else to call him... "Do you have a name?"
Nodding his head stupidly, he answered, "Erik."
"Why didn't you tell me before that you were a man?" Christine asked, curious to know more about the man who had pretended to be her angel. She wasn't mad at him or anything, but she was a little hurt that she didn't really have an angel.
"I'll tell you later, Christine. Right now, you must rest; you've had a long day." he cooed softly, hoping that his tone would lull her back to sleep. But, she was wide awake with no intentions of going to sleep anytime soon.
"Well, then where are we going?"
"Back to the dormitories; I don't want Madame Giry to get worried." Erik explained.
"No! I don't want to go back there yet." Christine begged; she wasn't ready yet. She wanted to stay with this man. Despite the fact that he wasn't an angel, he still held the same comforting presence that came with her angel.
"You need to go back, Christine. I promise that I won't be far, mon ange." Erik stopped and slowly brought his lips to her forehead. Wait, what was he doing? Christine was far too innocent to be kissed by the likes of him. Pulling, more like jerking, back, he saw a shadow of disappointment cross his angel's features, but he just passed it off as a trick of the light.
"Please, Erik! I want to stay with you. Just until tomorrow morning." Christine continued to plead. Why wouldn't Erik let her stay with him? Didn't he care whether or not the girls made fun of her again? Stopping herself, she realized she was carrying on like a child again! "I'm sorry, Erik. You can take me back to the dormitories if you'd like. I just...I just have no one to spend today with."
"Don't worry, my child; you can stay with me until the morning. Now, sleep. I'll wake you once we reach...my home." he said sheepishly. He hadn't really planned for Christine to come down to his home yet, but, today was full of unexpected surprises.
Obeying, Christine's eyes slid shut, which wasn't that difficult; she was actually exhausted from practice and crying. Snuggling her face deeper into Erik's chest, her breathing soon evened out as she fell fast asleep.
^.^
"Christine, wake up, mon ange." a soft voice coaxed. Tossing her arm over her eyes, Christine groaned and turned to lay on her side, but bolted up at what she felt underneath her; a soft, silky bed. Snapping her eyes open, she panicked slightly until she remembered everything that had happened. "Erik?" she mumbled; her voice still thick from sleeping. Looking around, Christine immediately found Erik sitting at the edge of the bed with a small smile playing on his face.
"Yes, Christine?" he replied. He was nervous more than anything. So far, Christine seemed to like her room, judging by her eyes darting from object to object.
"Are we at your house?"
"We are. I hope everything is to your liking."
Christine nodded as she looked at all the wonderful, and far too expensive, objects that surrounded her; there china vases, Persian rugs, a vanity sat in the corner with several containers of make-up and perfume, a nightstand, and tapestries that hung from the walls, but they weren't like any walls that she had ever seen. Unless...
"Erik, are we underground?" she asked, sitting up so that she was eye level with him. Again, questions plagued her mind; why did he live here? He seemed perfectly normal, but that mask...what was lying underneath that mask?
Before Erik could answer, or see Christine delicate hand shoot towards his face, he felt the cold air of the cellars hit his cheek. Quickly covering it up with his hand, Erik lifted his eyes to find horror and revulsion on Christine's face.
"Dammit, you little Delilah! How could you? To think, I honestly trusted you! Why did you take off Erik's mask? Did you want to see what was underneath Erik's mask? Then, look! Look at my face and see the monster who was your angel!" he yelled at her. He didn't feel any real anger; it was mainly his sorrow that was pouring out at her. He should have known better than to trust a girl.
Christine sat horrified at what just happened. She wasn't afraid of his deformity, but of his anger! She had never heard his glorious voice twisted with so much rage and agony that it frightened her.
"A-Angel...I'm-I'm so sorry." she whimpered, brushing his tear away with her slender fingers; she could feel him shaking underneath her fingertips. "Don't cry, mon ange." she parroted his words from earlier. Slowly tracing his jaw, Christine rested her fingers on the hand that was covering his cheek.
Erik felt his whole world falling apart at the look on his beloved's face; it was a look that he should have been used to by now and he was, but, he had prayed that Christine could have seen beyond it. Apparently he failed. Then, he felt her delicate fingers wiping away his tear, tracing his jaw, and finally coming to rest upon his hand. He fought back the hope that was pathetically rising inside him. Raising his visible eye towards her, he saw her silent question, May I? Nodding, Erik squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Christine gently pull his hand away, quickly replacing it with her own.
Christine smiled sweetly at her angel as she felt the deformity with her sensitive fingers. It was red with bumps and scares, his nose was twisted, but it was there, and part of his forehead was sunken in and the skin stretched tight over it.
"If it makes you feel any better, Angel, I've been hiding something from you, too." she whispered quietly, lowering her forehead to his; placing a light kiss on the sunken flesh. Opening his eyes, Erik felt a few tears slip down his face. What could she possibly be hiding?
Pulling both her hands away, Christine wiped off the heavy stage make-up that she had been wearing all day, revealing a flesh colored mask. "Since I took your mask off without your permission, you may take mine off."
Lifting a shaking hand, Erik slowly peeled away the thin mask, releasing a breath that he didn't know that he was holding. His precious Christine had a cheek like his, but it was different; her cheek more or less resembled his forehead. The skin was stretched painfully tight over her cheekbones, showing the blue veins that ran underneath. It wasn't that bad, but to a young girl whose life is bound to the stage, it did matter.
Christine waited for Erik's reaction, but nothing came. Perhaps he was thinking about ways to get rid of her. He knew now that she wasn't beautiful, so what was the point of having her around?
"My darling Christine, you're perfect." Erik cried, throwing his arms around her. This was too good to be true! Yes, it was an awful fate that such an innocent child should share a fate like his, but her's was at least easy to cover up. Perhaps she wouldn't leave him all alone after all.
"Thank you, Erik. Nobody, but Papa has ever called me that. And for the record, I think you're the most handsome person I have ever met!" she laughed joyfully. She hadn't laughed like that since her papa had been alive; he had been the only person who called her pretty or special. He was the only person who loved her...
Feeling Erik shaking underneath her, Christine cupped his twisted cheek and lightly placed a kiss on his lips. "I love you, Erik." she breathed happily.
Erik stared back up at her in awe. She loved him! Someone finally loved him. "Not even my mother could utter those words. Thank you, my sweet, darling Christine."
"You're welcome, my love. Happy New Year." Christine smiled as she looked at the clock, noticing it was actually after midnight, but who cared?
"Happy New Year, Christine, and Happy Birthday. I love you." Erik replied, making sure that his voice didn't shake too badly when he talked. Stroking her deformed cheek, he smiled his first genuine smile in a long time.
For some odd reason, both felt as if this year was going to be a wonderful year.
The ending isn't all that good, I'll admit, but, I didn't know what else to put in without dragging out too much. What did you think about Christine? I had a dream that Christine was the one who was deformed instead of Erik, but I noticed that there were a lot of stories like that out there, so I decided that both would be deformed. It's like 1 AM and I'm exhausted; I actually have to get up in a few hours to pick up my grandparents from the airport. Yeah, not really excited. I'm excited to see them, but not so much the hour long drive to the airport. Please, review! It'll make Erik very happy!
^.^