Minute one, fear. It is a raw, unbridled fear that she felt in that singular moment when he was taken from her. She was unable to to do anything, say anything, simply standing in the snow with her hand stretched out to him.
Minute two, sorrow. An ache inside of her chest. Watching Erik step over the body was when she was snapped out of her stupor. A shriek flew from her lips, it being the sound of loss and grief.
Minute three, hatred. It boiled inside of her like water in a pot. She crashed to the ground, her hands fisted in her dress as angry tears streamed down her face.
Minute four, rage. Everything had gone red, the snow, her vision, her breathing becoming ragged and uneven. Feeling Erik grab her arm, she lashed out at him, clawing at his face. Letting go in surprise, he surged forward again, jaw clenched.
Minute five, hopelessness. A light had gone out. Realizing there was nothing she could do to stop him, she went limp as he scooped her up in his arms. Christine buried her face in his cloak as they walked past the scorched body, the smell of burnt flesh and hair making her gag.
Minute six, guilt. Raoul was her entire world, and he had taken that from her. The woman in his arms was no longer the strong Christine that he knew, merely a shadow of herself. She was very much like the young girl she was when she first arrived at the Opera Garnier.
Minute seven, coldness. He could not stand to see her like this, so instead he chose to be cruel when he could have been kind. He dumped her into the boat, snapping at her to stop this foolish crying.
Minute eight, hesitation. There was a moment of hesitation as he stood in the doorway of her room. It was quickly overcome as he crossed over the threshold and dropped the wedding dress at her feet.
Minute nine, satisfaction. The boy's death had brought a twisted smile to his face. He had won, and had claimed his prize. She now stood before him in the dress, and would be the perfect bride if she would only smile.
Minute ten, triumph. She was his.