So this will probably be my one and only Phantom of the Opera fic. It is a one-shot actually, but nonetheless. I recently watched the entire movie at the request of a good friend who is in love with the Phantom. Haha I can see why. ;D Anyhow, I hope I am able to capture and convey Erik's emotions well. This one-shot is supposed to take place toward the ending scene when Christine kisses him and leaves with Raoul and the mob from the opera house is coming after him.
Constructive criticism is always appreciated. That is the purpose of this bit of writing after all.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters portrayed in this fanfiction.
This one-shot is dedicated to ShiroNeko, who encourages me in my writing and who I view as an inspiration in many aspects of my life. Thanks for always being there for me and with me. :3
The sound of the water splashing gently against the stone echoed throughout, surrounding Erik in what seemed to be eternal solitude. The image of Christine and Raoul retreating together had all but receded from his own mind, though they were long gone now. The angry mob of people from the opera house were fast approaching him, but the Phantom, for one reason or another, could not move from his spot just yet.
He stared at the toy monkey with its cymbals grinning at him cheshirely and wound the thing up so it would play that now seemingly sad song. The cymbals barely touching each other to make a light "ting" sound. He let out a soft sigh, holding the small toy in his hand before dropping it back to the spot where it had originally been. The thing ended up falling to the floor instead of its earlier position and the Phantom bent over to pick it up. He stopped momentarily, crouched down and reached a hand forward to grab the monkey. His body was at a standstill now though. The hand he'd reached forward resting on said monkey.
He was about to go; leave this place, but stopped himself if only for a moment. Erik let his mind wander. A very dangerous affair to take part in for any human being who'd ever felt desperately alone or hurt before. His dark brows pulled together as the Phantom realized where he'd allowed his mind to go. Back to Christine. Where else would it head? At this point it was inevitable he'd think about her.
He began to recall vividly her lips pressed against his only moments earlier and how terribly fleeting the feeling it gave him was. When it had happened, the man wanted to believe the kiss would last for all of eternity. That it wasn't the final touch he'd receive from her. Somehow, however silly this notion may have seemed, Erik thought that he'd possibly for once found someone to listen to him and share the loneliness with him. Someone he could lean on.
The man took in a seemingly shaky breath as he stood from his huddled position taking the music-making monkey with him. He set the thing down and blinked once at it, raising his now free hand to the distorted side of his face he'd always been trying to hide. Erik shuddered beneath his own hand and slid the digits down along the misshapen skin of his cheek and lips where Christine's own smooth alabaster hands had once been.
At the moment he could have cried, but didn't. What would be the point in that? What was done was done. Nevertheless, the male could feel the anger beginning to well up once again. That kiss. That gloriously ephemeral kiss. It pleased and irritated him all at the same time. He knew he'd been longing for the contact between Christine and himself. Between anyone who would listen to him and care about him the way she had. But why did it have to be a kiss goodbye? Would he ever get a kiss that was simply that in itself? Because someone loved him and wanted to demonstrate their affection as such.
The Phantom ground one of his fists heavily into the wall out of frustration. He pulled his hand back after said action and shook his head slightly. That thought had been maybe a little too much for him at that moment in time, but that alone did not make it any less true. He'd never been kissed simply out of love or want. At least that was how he felt. Yes, it is possible Christine did have some feelings for him, but he was well aware that the kiss she'd given him was not the one he'd so desperately craved.
Erik let himself slide once again against the stone wall as if in defeat. His eyes diverted up seeming to be gazing up through the roof and into the heavens. Maybe he'd felt abandoned. If only for that brief second before he brought himself to his feet. He could hear the cries and shouts of the people from the opera. He knew they would be coming. He sent a glare at one of the mirrors reflecting that hideous face he'd so frantically tried to hide and tore it off the wall.
The Phantom began crashing said mirror against all the mirrors in the place until they were all in shattered pieces. Much like his heart may have been. Once he'd felt satisfied he pulled a crimson velvet curtain and disappeared behind it. Disappeared into the city. He didn't want to be caught. Couldn't allow himself to be. Much as it pained him being alone, sometimes that was better than being surrounded by a crowd who would possibly never try to understand him.