Set during the Final Lair. A tiny drabble I wrote just now because I was bored and cause I love this quote way too much, m'kay?

Please R&R :)

Taken Kneeling

Love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling,
and "Domine non sum dignus" should be on the lips and in the hearts of those who receive it.

~ Oscar Wilde, De Profundis

Her lips are on mine. My lips are on hers.

Her eyes close. My eyes widen. Then they close, too.

She is crying. I am crying.

And I can't help but wonder how a heart as big as hers can fit inside her petite body.

I kneel.

I kneel, out of shame, out of admiration, out of reverence, for her. For her, to bestow upon me this gift that she is so keen to lavishly offer anyone, yes, even monsters like me, unworthy monsters like me.

She kneels, too. I hope I didn't drag her down with me. That was never my intention.

But it is precisely what you did.

I did, yes. But I saw her rise, above the darkness, and now... Now she's plunging into it once again, right here, in the gloom of my home, right now, when the ground above is shaking with the panicked galumphs of the Parisian elite, and her lover is suffocating, she's plunging into the darkness, in a desperate attempt to pull me out.

I break the kiss. I want to thank her and tell her to stop, at the same time, for her strives are for naught, I am in too deep — still, I never want this to end. And she notices.

And she's kissing me once again.

And I melt against her.

I kneel, body, mind, and soul, before her.

I kneel.

And I stay this way.

I can't find it in me to stand.

I am too weak to stand.

I am weak. And she is strong.

So strong.

Her kindness is crushing me.

I can't muster the willpower to speak, but I smile against her lips; "I bow to no one, Christine Daaé. I have refused to kneel before kings, before gods, before men. But, I kneel before you. I submit, to you. You made me kneel, Christine Daaé. You are capable of most anything, I see it clearly, now. God bless you. God bless you, Christine Daaé."

She didn't hear any of it, of course. I didn't actually utter any of these words.

I stayed silent.

I wish I hadn't.

Still, I did.

She rises back to her full stature, her tiny stature, that had never, not once, intimidated me. I stay on the ground. She's towering over me. For the first time in a million eternities, I feel so small before her.

I am gazing upon something divine. I can't tell if it is she herself that is saintly, or if she's the embodiment of some holy sovereignty. All I know is that, in my many, many years, what she espouses is the only thing I have ever deemed worthy of worship.

It feels impious to stand. And yet, she's pulling me to my feet.

I almost trip and fall on her. My legs are failing me. I just wilt limply against her. And she supports my weight as if I'm just a feather on the tail of a robin.

I absently whisper over her shoulder, I doubt she can make out my words.

"You made me kneel, Christine Daaé. God bless you, God bless you."