"Raoul!" He turned in response, alert, as Christine unconsciously grabbed on his collared shirt, the cool blue light emitting from the windows of the carriage provided the only lighting for Raoul as he jolted awake, "Raoul!" She rasped out urgently, eyes squinting tighter.
"Shhhh," He wrapped his other free arm around her body. The other arm was already around her back. She twitched as he brushed his face closer toward her, pressing his lips on top of her head, the soft brown curls he loved so dearly on her. Looking out the window, all he saw was green fields, the sky an icy blue, cold. He had no regard of time, numbed by thought, by the sporadic jolts of the carriage. He rubbed her fingers softly, lingering on the one finger where his ring would lay and a sudden possessive feeling filled the viscount de Chagny. He did not understand Christine's fond obsession with the phantom of the opera, so uncertain, but now he could truly see that Christine had seen much darker things in life then he would ever. A sudden creak brought him back to when they were both so young, lost in recklessness and they sat alone with each other in the play room, and always he remembered her insistence, "And Papa too, promise you will take us both away,"
Papa was dead now. Her hope was nearly gone too. And he was not so sure he was a prince anymore.
She moaned softly, as he looked down at her, and so was so tired. He had not noticed just how tired she was, and suddenly he felt drowsy too. All this time, the struggle to protect Christine had felt like a childhood game, protecting her from goblins or an evil witch. He was confused, confused at how Christine could even love that…what could he call him? He was so confused at why Little Lotte meant so dearly to him but for certain, he acknowledged the fact that he loved Christine, had loved the girl she was and the beautiful woman she had become. Yet, he on no occasion thought of marriage with concerns to bracing the scandal of his marrying an actress and his duties as husband. He sighed, whispering to no one, "I promised you protection and freedom, but how? Christine, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, my love" He placed affectionate kisses over her face, on her temple, on her ear, on her forehead.
"Is that you? Raoul?" She weakly tilted her head toward him.
"Go back to sleep, darling," He soothed her, then added grimly, "We got a long way to go,"
"To go home," She dreamily and confidently stated, "A whole life away from-" She sighed before trailing off. He dreaded the answer with a sudden gasp but he could not force himself to think any further about Erik. He pulled the blanket tighter over her body as she responded with a careless shrug, troubles far away. He pulled her clenched left hand and with a furrow of his brow, he opened it and there, she held on to red rose petals. Gasping slightly, he looked intently at his fiancé. In the years to come, he could imagine her regarding stories lightly about that paper mache music box to the man himself but he could not deny he was not curious. He bit his lip as the petals escaped her sweaty palm, falling one by one on the floor of the carriage and he took a deep breath, "You say you love me, I'll take your word, one lifetime it will be, but dear, know very clearly, I love you," He whispered to her, "Forget it all, forget the opera house, and forget him," Yet he knew very well she would never forget him, she never could. He looked out the window. The skies were blue. Ominous but blue.
A/N Horrid! Writing this as a fail challenge from my buddy...written within thirty minutes...this was all I got, more stories coming right up! Enjoy your holidays and Have a Great 2011!