Just a random plotline that popped into my head. Nothing more.
A beautiful you couple strolled through the streets of Paris, stopping now and again to admire things in shop windows. November had rolled in quicker than they'd expected, and each was secretly observing what the other stopped to look at, vowing to buy it for them when the other wasn't around. The leaves were changing, some trees already bare, and the chill of Autumn kissed their cheeks and turned them pink. The couple paused as the woman spotted something in the window of a jewelry shop, and the man smiled as he caught sight of the diamond rose she was staring at. He decided it to buy it then. One early present wouldn't harm anyone, would it? As he was about to go in to buy it, something else caught his attention.
A little girl, who looked to be no more than seven, stood alone, peering into a window a couple building down. The dress she wore was tattered and torn, and she wore only a thin coat. As the wind howled around them, her dark brown curls shook with her as she shivered. He slowly took his hand off the door, letting it fall to his side, and the woman turned to see what he was staring so intently at. Her hand flew to her mouth when she caught sight of the girl. Grabbing his hand, she turned to whisper in her husband's ear.
"Raoul, you don't think she's alone, do you?"
"I don't know, Christine. I hope not." Before he could stop her, Christine was walking towards the girl, and bent down to her height. He began to jog towards them.
"-here all alone?"
"No, I'm not, Madame. I'm here with my Papa."
"Where is your Papa?" She girl looked around in a frenzy. Her father was not anywhere in sight. Her thin chest heaved as she began to panic.
"I don't know. He was right behind me before!" Her eyes pricked with tears, her brow furrowing, and Christine gathered her in her arms, promising to help her find her father. She continued to stare past Christine's shoulder, into the window. Following her gaze, they finally saw what she wanted so badly, but obviously could not afford. The doll looked exactly like the girl, only more mature. She wore an embroidered white dress, and the color of her lips were a deep red. Her full, pink cheeks looked much different from the girl's pale, gaunt ones, but there was no denying the resemblance.
"Do you like that doll?" Raoul questioned, bending down beside his wife. The girl only nodded mutely, still staring wide-eyed at the doll. Raoul gently took her by the hand and pulled her into the warm shop, Christine following closely behind. As Raoul paid for the doll, the girl clung to Christine's side, gaping at the other toys. Many children were there with their parents, begging them for the toy they wanted, disappointment clear on their face when they were denied.
"What's your name?" The girl's response was so quiet, Christine had to strain to hear it.
"Christine." Christine smiled slightly to herself.
"Really? My name is Christine too." The girl- Christine- looked up at her with so much wonder, then shyly turned her eyes away. Raoul approached them again, gently laying the doll in the girl's arms.
"Here you go, your very own doll. Merry Christmas." The girl's eyes lit up with delight, and she threw her little arms around his neck.
"Oh, thank you, Monsieur! Thank you very much!" As they led her from the store, they couldn't help but smile at the girl, who now seemed to glow with happiness.
"Christine? Christine! Where are you?" The little girl looked up, in the direction of the voice, while the couple seemed stunned. The voice that was calling the girl was so familiar; they knew they'd heard it somewhere once.
"Papa!" The girl cried, breaking away from their grasp. A man turned around, and quickly scooped her up into his arms. The couple followed close behind, and marveled at the sight of the reunited father and daughter.
"Don't you dare ever run away like that again!" He told her sternly, his voice flooded with relief. Then he noticed the doll that lay in his daughter's arms. He looked at her with a questioning glance, and she knew right away what he would ask.
"That man and that woman bought it for me. They found me and said they'd help me find you." The girl pointed at the couple standing six feet away. The father followed his daughter's finger, his eyes opening wide. Recognition flashed quickly across his features, then it gone. He strode over to them, holding out his right hand.
"Thank you for finding my daughter and returning her to me."
"It was nothing," Raoul said. "Don't mention it." The man nodded politely, then turned his back to them and walked off. Just as they were almost out of sight, Christine turned back and waved back to the couple. Then they turned a corner and were gone.
As the couple walked, they thought. Nearly ten years had passed since they'd last seen him, when the Opera Populaire nearly burnt to the ground. He'd disappeared without a trace, and for three years they'd lived in fear that he would find them, and make their lives a living Hell again. He should have just been another stranger. But he wasn't. He should have just been another worried father looking for his daughter, but, to them, he was so much more than that. He was a man they never dreamed they'd see again.
He was the Phantom of the Opera.
Soooooooooooo... Whatdya think? It might seem random (or it might not. It might just seem random to me cause of the circumstances that I thought of it in), but that's okay with me.
Please press me!
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