So I had this idea for a fanfic. I'm not too sure whether it's good or not so let me know if you want me to continue it. It's my first POTO fanfic so forgive me if I don't stay in character, or if it sucks.
Chapter 1
"You alone, can make my song take flight
It's over now, the music of the night!"
2 Months later
It had been two months since that night at the Opera Populaire. Erik hid in the outskirts of Paris, waiting for all to calm down for if he was found now he would be surely killed. He had no doubt Christine was to be married soon if she hadn't done so already. She was all he could think of yet any thought of her gave him intense pain. In those months he had composed and composed day and night. It was the only thing that could ease his pain, if only by a miniscule amount. They all revolved around Christine though. On those days when he felt like he couldn't live without her, he wrote ballads of heartbreak and love. On those days when he was convinced that, had it not been for Raoul, Christine might have accepted him, he wrote songs of murder and of hatred towards Raoul, of how he would kill him if he had the chance. Then there were those days where the only hatred he felt was towards himself and his horrid face. And he felt stupid for thinking she might have ever loved such a monster or thinking that it was all Roaul's fault. On those days, the melodies were the saddest, most bitter, most disconsolate. They were full of sorrow and all he wanted was to kill himself. The world would certainly be a better place without him. but he couldn't do it, for even though he was a murderer, he couldn't murder himself, for that would mean he could no longer feel, and he could not let go of his feelings for the young, beautiful soprano.
It was the time of twilight and soon he would grab his cloak and mask and go get more supplies. The shack he was residing in, although in the outskirts, it was still far enough from any people or houses so that he might not get noticed or discovered.
The loneliness of the night fell all around him.
There were already some stars on the dark sky but no moon.
He stepped out while looking at his feet. But after turning the key on the lock he felt the side of his body collide against another, much smaller, much weaker.
His instincts told him to grab the body, bring it inside and kill it before it could tell anyone of what it had seen. If anyone found out he was still alive, they would kill him.
He grabbed what seemed to be a teenage boy for even though he was wearing man clothes, he was skinnier and smaller than any regular man. He instantly reached for his lasso he kept with him at all times.
Then he noticed the "boy" had breasts.
His hands let go of what he now realized was a girl as if her skin had been on fire. He trembled as the girl removed the cape from her head.
"Christine..." he whispered.
Fright invaded his body. She had surely come with more men and was there to bring on him what he knew he deserved- death.
He surveyed the area to see where he would be ambushed from. He could see nothing, or where they could be hiding.
"So will you kill me with your own means then?" he asked. His eyes burned with the tears that wanted to be free. The sight of her, his love, and also his murderer, made his heart beat as fast as ever when she was in sight. And even though he knew his life might end in her hands he could feel only love for her.
"Oh, stop talking such nonsense!" she cried in a whisper. Even still he could hear the shaking in her voice. "Well, won't you let me in?" she said.
Erik's head was swirling. He turned around to open the door. What could she be doing here? Even if she planned to kill him she must know he could easily stop her. But she also knew he would never harm her. He searched in his head for an explanation to what was happening but could find none.
"Come in" he said looking down, not knowing how to act. "I'm sorry; my accommodations aren't what they were back at the opera" His couldn't hide the confusion from his voice or how nervous he was.
He went to a corner where he had some candles and lit them up. It wasn't much illumination but it was ll he had.
This reminded him of the last time they had been alone. Blinded by love, passion, or insanity, he knew not which, he had almost forced her to become his bride. What had come over him? Was that the kind of beast she took him for. He felt ashamed of the way he had acted. He had treated her horribly. How lucky for her to have found a man who could give her all she wanted.
But none of this explained her presence there. Or how she had found him.
"That's alright. There's nothing to be ashamed of. You are in these conditions because of me" she expressed with shame as her eyes looked down.
They stood there for a few seconds in silence. Erik waited patiently for whatever was coming. He would accept whatever she had to say to him. If she wished to insult him, he would listen. If she wanted to blame him for everything she had gone through, he would receive it. If she wanted to kill him, he would welcome it for death could only be pleasant if it came from her hands.
But he never expected, he would have never suspected, nothing could have prepared him for what happened next.
She took three steps as she closed the space between them. Her eyes still looking down, wouldn't meet his.
His anxiety grew as he felt her body so close to his. Her hand shyly came up to his chest, where his shirt wasn't buttoned all the way up. She caressed his skin with shaky breaths.
A little flame of hope almost lit up in Erik's heart. A little flame, almost like hope, but he didn't dare encourage it for the smallest aspiration would surely only shatter his heart once again when he realized it was fake.
But he couldn't contain himself for the love inside him craved to be freed. His heart beat unevenly as his uncertain hand reached for her face. He had to see her eyes, to see an explanation in her face.
A tear rolled down his cheek as he anticipated the mocking expression in her features.
The dark surrounded them, except for the poor light of the candles.
But even still, he perceived, instead of a s a face whose lips trembled and whose eyes reddened with tears.
She looked up to him with longing eyes full of sorrow but also ardor.
As a tear escaped her eyes he quickly wiped it away.
He wanted to believe what was happening to him but couldn't. How could her face show love but feel hate?
Was this a dream?
He looked into her eyes looking for some sign of the repugnance he had seen there before but could find none.
Could this be true?
"Christine...?" he pleaded with his eyes.
He felt his heart stop bleeding.
Her fingers went from his chest to his cheek.
She could almost hear the music in his pulse as it sped up faster and faster.
"My angel" she whispered.
Her eyes closed and he saw her rise higher as she stood on the tip of her toes, her lips coming closer to his.
Could this really be true?
Her lips brushed his and that was all the encouragement he needed.
His lips responded to hers
He wrapped his hands around her body in an embrace.
Their feelings, at last bared, with nothing to suppress.
The world fell away, as nothing else mattered then- beneath a moonless sky.
Should I continue?
Give me your rating.
5. Erik- Definitely must continue.
4. Christine- Looks promising, continue.
3. Madame Giry- Nothing special, don't really care if you continue or not.
2. Meg- I don't recommend you continue it.
1. Raoul- Please, do not continue. It was horrible.
Let me know what you think, please!