Some of you aren't going to like this. At all. I've been working on it for maybe a month now, and I'm just going to start posting bit by bit. I'll repeat my warning from "Black Roses" and say that if for ANY reason, you have a problem seeing Erik as a bad guy, then this isn't the story for you. For those of you willing to stick around, remember to critique, not criticize! This is in first person, alternating between Erik and Christine, and I'll mark the switches so it's easier to follow. Most of this is Leroux-based, but Webber snuck in there a few times.

And I give a big hug and thank you to xxInspireMexx for being my uber-incredible beta and knocking some sense into me when she caught me slacking! Love ya, homie!

Erik

Agony.

That's what it was to watch her as I did, to swallow her with my eyes and feel that savage fire burn me from the inside out. The heat in my blood and the way my flesh seemed to scream and cry with longing was a torture far worse than any I had inflicted upon mankind. I had never given a thought for the state of my immortal soul, but what I felt for the purest, most innocent child God ever made was surely enough to send me to Hell.

I thought I'd conquered such base instincts long ago. It was beneath me to feel something as coarse as desire and I was immune to its pull…invulnerable…untouchable. So why, then, did the sight of her, the sound of her voice, and even the mere thought of her, inspire such need and want? I had never known love and never felt these things before with this unholy intensity. When I saw how weak she made me, I cursed the name of Christine Daaé.

I cursed myself as well. What right did I have to crave her like this? She was a budding flower in the spring, one that would be swiftly destroyed once touched by the fire that consumed me. How could I claim to love her and still dream of her as I did? It was so easy to lose myself in fantasies of holding, touching, feeling, taking…

If only I was the angel she took me for. Angels feel nothing. But then, I had felt nothing my whole life, and now I wanted something. If I was an angel, I wouldn't care either way. But I was only a man, slave to my lust. Every time she called me, I came to her, and I knew there would be a time when I would make her come to me. And when she did, she would be mine.

Christine

A smile spread across my face as I entered my dressing room after rehearsal. The managers had told me Carlotta had fallen ill, and that I was to take her place in the new production of Faust. Marguerite! The lead! I couldn't wait to tell the Angel. At last, all our hard work was being rewarded.

"Angel?" I called, closing the door and locking it. "Are you there?"

"I'm always here, child," the reply came. The sound of that voice in my ears made my heart leap with joy and I felt my smile widen. "You seem to be rather ecstatic today, Christine. What has delighted you so?"

"I'm to be Marguerite!" I burst out proudly. "Messrs. Richard and Moncharmin told me today that I'm to take Carlotta's place while she's away!"

There was a benevolent chuckle. "See, dear one? I told you this would happen."

"You knew?"

"Of course I did. I'm always watching you, Christine, and there's nothing you do that I don't know about."

I supposed I should have known that. If anyone could have foreseen this, it would have been my Angel of Music.

"This means we will have to work harder," he told me. "You must be ready to dazzle them all."

"This may not be permanent," I added. "I'm sure once Carlotta is well, she'll be the prima donna again."

"Which is why we must practice," the Angel said. "We want them to love you, Christine. Once they hear you sing, not another word will be spoken about Carlotta."

I nodded. "So we can still continue our lessons every morning?"

"Indeed. Go home, child. I want you well rested for tomorrow, and I won't excuse tardiness. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Angel." I hesitated, then asked, "Are you pleased with me? I've worked so hard for you, you know…"

"Yes, you have. And yes, I'm very pleased. You've done well, Christine, but there's more to do. Hurry home and rest now."

I knew I was glowing with satisfaction. I hadn't disappointed him. Then I asked, "Will you sing before I go?"

"Do you think you've earned the privilege?" He spoke as if to rebuke me, but I heard the teasing note in his voice. There was nothing I loved more than to hear him sing, but he would only do so when I'd fulfilled his expectations for me. It was his way of rewarding me when I made him happy, and it was difficult to say what I cherished more—the reward itself or the knowledge that I'd pleased him.

"Please?" I asked.

Moments later, his voice filled the room with the light of Heaven, surrounding me and wrapping me in angel wings. I could feel it in my soul and almost see eternity before my eyes as I heard the song pour out, "Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison…" My lips formed the words but I didn't dare try to sing along. I was unworthy to lift my mortal voice with his, no matter how he'd shaped it to his liking.

He reached the end of the hymn and I sighed petulantly. "If only I could hear you sing always!"

"Someday, perhaps," he told me. "I'll take you where we can sing together until the end of time."

"Do you promise?" I asked.

There was a pause, then he replied, "Put your soul into the music, Christine. When you make your debut, prove to the world who it is you sing for. If you can do that for me, I'll take you away."

I felt as if I might float away in my ecstasy. "I will, Angel," I vowed. "I promise you!"

"I believe you, Christine. Now go; you've dawdled here long enough."

I gathered my things and left the Opera, heading to my tiny, lonely apartment. For the past three months, I hadn't minded the little garret I was forced to occupy so long as I had the time spent with the Angel to cherish, but now with his promise still in my ears I couldn't wait to be free of it.

Looking around at the dingy rooms I'd done my best to make seem like a home, I couldn't hold back, and Marguerite's plea rang from my throat of its own accord. "Holy Angel, in Heaven blessed, my spirit longs with thee to rest!"

More after the weekend!