No Backward Glances

Try to forgive

Erik POV

I decided to risk one last glance at my dear Christine before I disappeared forever. Her arms were encircled around the Viscount and she refused to look back. I struggled to hold in tears as I watched the two of them turn the corner. Christine deserved the best of everything, and I… I couldn't give her anything. I was a scarred monster and she was an angel reincarnate.

The tears that had been threatening to overflow; flowed down my face in silent rivers. I didn't try to wipe them off, I just let them flow. The pain of losing the one person who hadn't judged me for my face, who's face had lit up when she saw me, the girl I had given my heart to, was too fresh in my mind to do anything but cry. She didn't mean to hurt me; I could see that in the tears that had run down her face as she left. That didn't mean I wasn't hurt.

She couldn't be forced to live a life of darkness. Her light needed to be seen by the whole world, her voice worshipped for its beauty. I couldn't give her that life. I gave her the wings to fly, it was her job to use them right.

I held the little ring that had once represented a promise of a future. Now it was a just a sad reminder of the love I once held. As much as I wanted to throw it into the water, never to see it again; I felt the need to keep a part of Christine with me. She had shown her faith in me by returning the ring. To her she must have thought I would be able to find love again. How foolish she was! She might have realized that I needed a part of her near me to carry on.

I took one last look around the place I had called home for most of my life. My gaze lingered on my mask. I wouldn't need it where I was going, or at least I hoped. If I did I would just get another one. I really didn't know or care where I would end up. If Christine wasn't there I wouldn't be whole. My soul, if I actually had one; lived in her. It rejoiced when she opened her mouth and graced me with her voice. Only then did I feel human.

With that, I walked through the shattered mirror.

There was no light in the tunnel, but I could have cared less. I mean I was a creature of the night. Darkness normally didn't bother me, though right now it felt as if the darkness was closing in and suffocating me. I stumbled into the wall of the tunnel, quite ungracefully and slowly sank to my knees as the pain tore at me.

What had I become? I wasn't some lowly weak human. For years I had been respected and feared in the Paris Opera House. Now I was lying on the floor in a dark tunnel in some God forsaken place. I had been reduced to nothing more than a crying baby, and all for some woman who had left me at first chance she got. So what if I taught her how to use her voice? So what if I was the only one who saw the pain that consumed her when she first arrived at the opera house? I wasn't the one who saw her potential; wait, yes I was.

Thanks to her I was in this pain. She had caused this, not me. I had only shown her love and devotion. I had loved her before I heard her sing, unlike her pathetic little Viscount. I should have killed him when I got the chance, but I couldn't. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I hurt Christine like that, so I had to leave. If I stayed I would so tempted to kill her precious Viscount, and if given the chance again I probably wouldn't think twice about ending his life. Then once again I would have put her in a situation where I am portrayed as the bad guy.

Why couldn't she realize that everything I did, I did for her? I killed to protect her. I composed to hear the beauty behind her voice. I did everything in my power to further her career that I could, and then some. So how did she repay me, she showed me how she felt about me; how she loved me. Then she left, without a single word. Without a "I'm sorry," or "please forgive me." I knew she probably thought she was helping me, and I guess she was. If she would have spoken my resolve would have come crashing down around me. I would have taken her in my arms, never to let her go.

I would find a way to protect her, even now. It wasn't like the Viscount could, he had proved that when he appeared in my lair with not a single weapon. He didn't have a thought in his head, other than "Save Christine." If something had happened to her on my watch I would have made a semi-solid plan on how to save her before rushing in like a fool.

She didn't understand how important she was. She called me an angel, but in truth she was the angel sent to save me. She had turned a monster into a man. She had taken a grotesque creature of darkness and turned him into a soaring angel of music. When our voices collided, everything stopped. Everyone held their breath, and froze in wonder.

The tears that had been steaming down my face in rushing rivers had ceased. I was unfeeling. I would not cry over the girl who had destroyed everything. The monster inside me was raging. Telling me to go back and "deal" with all the people bent on hunting me down…including the little Viscount de Changy.

I couldn't. I needed to make Christine happy, and killing all of her fellow dancers and performer's probably wouldn't help anything. Nothing mattered but her happiness. If she was happy, I would find a way to continue. I just had to pray that her happiness included singing. If it didn't I wouldn't be able to stay away. I would have to find her and make sure my best creation worked flawlessly once again.

I would do anything just to hear her soaring voice again. Thinking of her, the tears managed to overcome my resolve of never crying over her. Where was my angel? Where was the voice that had made my heart soar and my heart race? Then I heard a haunting voice in a melody I knew all too well.

"Angel of music, I denied you, turning from true beauty, Angel of music, my protector, I love you my angel." Sang a voice I dreamed about. "Angel, please," came a cry from the darkness.

I was too shocked to reply to my dear Christine, though I wanted to with all my heart. Why had she followed me? Did she mean it when she said "I love you my angel"? I was about to cry out, when a dark figure tripped over my sprawled out legs. They went flying and landing with a small cry. A cry I knew too well.

"Christine?" I whispered crawling over to her fallen figure. I could only see her faint outline, yet I saw her head shoot up. "Angel," she whispered back. I lit a match as I neared her. It flamed to light casting an eerie glow all around. My eyes took in every detail of Christine, trying to commit her to my memory.

Something though was clearly off. Her beautiful brown eyes were rimmed with red as tears streamed down her face. Her normally glowing skin was pale as a ghost and she still wore the wedding dress; which was wet. Yet what frightened me most was the look in her eyes. Normally her eyes were full of life and beauty, now they looked wild with grief and pain. She looked broken.

"Chris…Christine. What is wrong my dear," I asked leaning forward. She just looked at me as tears rushed down her face. I moved closer, as if to put my arms around her; but I stopped at the last second. The pain was just too fresh to comfort the one who had caused it all. I was about to speak when Christine whispered, "Forgive me."

I froze in shock. She had risked everything by following me, including her future with Raoul. "I love you, and have since our first lesson. Every day since then I have had dreams that you were a man and that we could have a future together. Now it is an actual possibility. I choose you. I did before and I do now. I am not whole without you. You are everything to me. You inspired my voice and taught me how to use it. I have never even thanked you for that," she whispered her voice breaking multiple times.

I refused to move, refused to believe what she said. My heart begged me to take her in my arms and love her, while my mind wouldn't let of the fact that she left. Though now she was back, in a dark tunnel with no one to protect her but me. Without realizing it I had moved closer to her. She hid her face from me using her tangled brown curls. She looked up to me, her eyes filling with unshed tears.

That's when it happened.

In a split second her lips were on mine. Throwing her arms around me, she deepened the kiss. I dropped the match and it went out in a second, plunging us into darkness. After a few moments I slowly wrapped my arms around her pulling her to my chest. Her lips tasted sweet like apples in the spring with a hint of salt, most likely from her tears. The kiss was powerful and full of desire. Her hand stroked my scars delicately. I shivered in delight. No one had ever dared touch the deformed part of my face. I didn't want to let go, I wanted more of her.

Slowly I pulled back. I hated doing it, but we needed to talk. Before I could get a word out, Christine was kissing me. Softly, gently she kissed every deformed and scarred piece of skin. Tears cascaded down my face at her kindness and in that moment I knew every word she said had been true. She loved the monster.

She slowly wrapped her slender arms around me and pulled me down into her lap. My head rested in her lap as she stroked my hair and face with a feather light touch. I felt loved for the first time in years. She had come for me. I opened my eyes, seeing the shadow of her frame. I reached up to her face, pulling her down to me.

Our lips met in a gentle kiss. It was familiar and completely perfect. Nothing could ruin the moment. We were together and that is all that mattered. I moved toward her, wrapping my arms around her torso and lifting her onto my knees not caring one bit that she was wet.

She broke the kiss with a small gasp. "I love you Christine," I whispered into her neck before pressing a soft kiss to the base of her neck. "I love you too angel," she whispered back. My right arm snaked into my pocket to light another match so I could see my love. In a short second the small match in my hand came to life, shedding its gentle light on Christine.

She sat upon my lap, a small smile on her face. Her appearance had drastically changed in the few minutes since I had last really looked at her. A small healthy blush had crept its way onto her checks and her eyes overflowed with love. "Monsieur Angel, may I ask you a question," she said slowly. "Of course my dear," I said gently. "What is your name? Surely you must have one Angel," she whispered glancing at me shyly.

For a second my mind raced. A name held a lot of power. Should I reveal mine? Of course I should! She was mine as I was hers.

"Eric," I whispered looking down. "Eric," she breathed. I looked up at her, fearing her reaction to my name. I knew it was foolish but not many people know the name of a demon. Those who did often abused that privilege. Her eyes were filled with wonder as she gazed upon me, scars and all.

"It's perfect," she said softly. I smiled; a true smile. She smiled back immediately. "You should smile more often," she whispered running her fingers though my thin hair. The match in my hand went out with a small whoosh, and we were plunged back into the darkness that I knew.

She moved closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder. All was perfect, but only for a second.

Suddenly we heard angry shouts coming from my lair, and we saw the flashes of torches that could only mean one thing. The mob had found us. Christine cowered against me, obviously frightened. "Come Christine we must leave," I whispered urgently pulling her to her feet. She gasped in pain. "What's wrong," I whispered running my hands over her trying to find the source of pain.

"Nothing Eric, you just moved very fast," she said her voice muffled from pressing her face into my shoulder. I didn't believe her one bit, but we needed to move…now. I grabbed her hand anyway and started moving forwards. I didn't dare light a match in the fear it would lead the mob straight to us. I took the lead, keeping one hand firmly around Christine's hand and the other pressed against the wall.

"Come on, come on," I mumbled to myself in frustration. There was a lever somewhere over here that would lead us to our freedom, but I couldn't find it. Christine was slowing down. Her breathing seemed labored and walking seemed to hurt. From her faint outline I could see her stiff posture that would suggest she was in pain and trying not to show it.

The mob seemed to be catching up to us. The dancing lights seemed to mock us as they drew near. All of a sudden Christine stopped. I quickly turned to her, sensing something was off. "You have to go on without me Eric. I am just giving them a clear path to us. No matter where we go they will be able to follow our trail. I am so sorry," she whimpered.

"What? There isn't a trail for them to follow. What are you taking about," I asked urgently all the while still trying to find the lever that would lead us to freedom. "There is a set of bloody footprints for them to follow," she whispered so softly I could barely hear. Without even thinking I lit a match.

Her feet were bare and bloody. I gasped. How could she have been walking this entire time without saying anything? "What happened," I whispered trying to shield the light with my other hand. "The glass from the shattered mirror cut me," she said refusing to meet my eyes. I was starting to panic. I needed to tend to her feet, but we needed to keep moving. I glanced back, letting out a small gasp when I realized how close the mob had gotten. "Find him," bellowed out a voice that made my blood boil. I glanced at Christine and she looked to be paralyzed in fear.

"Raoul," she said burrowing into me. I quickly extinguished the match and made a split second decision. In one fluid motion I picked up Christine bridal style and took off racing into the darkness. Christine wrapped her arms around my neck tightly. Hopefully this would keep Raoul and the mob off our track for now.

My mind raced. There had to be another tunnel that would save us. I had to be overlooking something. I stopped; I needed to calm down and think things through. "Sing for me," I whispered to Christine. Without missing a beat her sweet soprano voice rang out in a whisper.

"No one would listen, you alone could hear my music, then at least, a voice in the dark, seemed to cry "I hear you; I hear you fears, your torment and your tears. You saw my loneliness, shared in my emptiness, no one would listen, no one but you heard as the outcast hears"

The breath I had been holding in came out in a whoosh. "Where did you hear that," I whispered to my love. She couldn't have ever heard that from me, even though it was my melody. I only sang it when I felt alone, when she was busy with rehearsals. "I don't know," she whispered back. I was so preoccupied with the thought of her sweet voice; I hadn't noticed that my feet had led me to a branch in the tunnel.

Suddenly everything came rushing back. I smiled to myself before taking off into the left branch of the tunnel. In a few short moments we had reached a lever. Another smile managed to find its way onto my face as I pulled the lever and a doorway opened shedding gentle light on us.

As the door closed behind us in one silent yet fluid motion, I carefully set Christine down on her feet. I winced as she let out a small groan of pain. "I am so sorry Christine, forgive me. I will return in a moment," I said pressing a small kiss to her forehead.

I hurried through the tunnel, dreading every moment I was away from Christine. At the end of the tunnel stood a mighty black stallion, his dark eyes glistening from the faint light coming from the torches on the walls. As I neared him he let out a small yet threatening neigh. "Whoa boy," I whispered. He slowly came toward me, keeping his eyes on my deformed face.

Even my own animals who I had kept for years were afraid of my face. Yet somehow in some crazy turn of events, Christine managed to love me. She had tamed the monster that bared the name "Phantom of the Opera" and turned him into an "Angel of Music."

I quickly mounted the stallion that towered above me. Riding slowly yet purposefully toward the place I had left my dear Christine. As we approached the point where I had left her I noticed a fallen figure, laying on the floor. As we drew near I realized it was Christine. I jumped off the horse and sprinted toward her.

My heart raced as I noticed the small pools of blood that had formed around her feet. Her head lay on the ground, her beautiful brown hair hiding her face from sight. Kneeling before her I pulled her into my lap. Brushing her curls aside I noticed her white pallor and her shut eyes. "Christine… open your eyes my dear. Please…" I cried in horror.

"Eric," she whispered after a few moments. I smiled though the tears that had started falling down my face. Reaching up she started to brush the tears from my face in a gentle manner. With my help she sat up. I rose to my feet in a fluid motion and turned to face the woman who had taken my heart. "Christine, I love you. You found a way to love me, even looking like this. Will… will you spend the rest of your life by my side… as my wife," I said infusing as much love as was humanly possible into what I said.

"Yes."