Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera, neither the book nor the movie cause if I did Erik would get his happy ending.
This is my first Phantom fic so try to go easy on me. I realize that I changed his deformity to horrible scars and before anyone gets pissed, I have nothing against his face it doesn't bother me at all, it's not even that horrible that's why I changed it. So enjoy the story and let me know what you think.
Christine slowly woke from her peacefully dreams laying among red silk sheets with the gentle sound of music teasing at her ears. The bed she rested in was surrounded by a black see-through curtain, a wooden music box sitting just on the other side. A small monkey in Persian robes sat upon the box with cymbals in its paws.
She slowly pushed herself into a sitting position, brown curls falling around her and reached for the golden cord that would cause the curtains recessed. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, a gasp fell from her lips when she felt the cold stone beneath her bare feet. Gazing around her, she saw no sign of her missing stockings among the objects in the room. Christine slowly stood from the bed and pulled her curly hair behind her shoulders.
I remember there was mist
Swirling mist upon a vast glassy lake
She stepped into the candle light of the Phantom's lair, the flames casting shadows over her white gown and pale skin. Her brown eyes shined as she gazed at the sparkling underground lake, the clear water washing over the rocky shore.
There were candles all around and on the lake there was boat
And in the boat there was a man
Her voice floated through the cavern and towards the man playing at the organ. When her music reached his ears, a golden eye gazed through his white mask. His had frozen over a piece of unfinished sheet music as he gazed over his shoulder. He slowly turned away and let his duel-coloured eyes fall closed as he listened to the melody that began to unfold in his mind. Christine descended down one set of stairs only to climb another, making her away towards the Phantom.
Who was the shape in the shadows?
Whose is the face behind the mask?
He looked towards the young woman when he felt the pressure of her hand on his shoulder. Her opposite hand reached over his body to cradle the exposed side of his face causing his eyes to fall closed and his head beginning to tilt back. Christine stroked his skin as her other hand crept up his visage and settled on his white mask. Her dainty fingers slipped under the edge of the material and pulled it away from his face before he had the chance to object.
Mismatched eyes snapped open, fury exploding from him as he shoved her away from his body. His hand quickly covered the now exposed skin as Christine fell to the ground in shock.
Damn you! You little prying Pandora
You little demon! This is what you wanted to see?
He ripped one of the curtains that hung over the many mirrors, exposing his face in his anger before quickly covering it once again.
Curse you! You little lying Delilah
You little viper! Now you cannot ever be free
Christine flinched away from the rage in his voice as he stormed away from her and towards the lake, knocking over some of the candles in the process.
Damn you. Curse you…
The Phantom's voice took on an almost desperate sounding sadness as his shoulders fell, his anger disappearing as he looked into the glistening water licking at his feet.
Stranger than you dreamt it
Can you even dare to look or bare to think of me
He turned back towards Christine, the light outlining his body and casting shadows over his appearance. Pushing herself up, Christine watched his movements with sad brown eyes.
This loathsome gargoyle who burns in hell
But secretly yearns for heaven
Oh Christine
Eyes filled with the sadness of the world looked up at her, practically pleading with her not to hate him, not to shun him, or leave him to the coldness of the night. Tears silently rolled down her cheeks as her heart clenched in her chest, lamenting for him and the pain he felt.
Fear can turn to love
You'll learn to find the man behind the monster
This repulsive carcass, who seems a beast
He sat on the steps in front of her, practically curling in on himself, his forehead brushing his knees as his fingers clenched around his damaged face which he tried to hide so desperately.
But secretly dreams of beauty
Oh Christine…
He looked up at her, waiting for her to scream and run away as every other woman, besides Antoinette, had before. The Phantom was shocked to see her tears, but quickly turned his back to her, believing they were nothing more than tears of fear. An angel such as her couldn't cry out of pity for a monster like him.
Slowly crawling towards him, Christine ignored the sharp pain of the rocks scraping the skin of her knees. She gently placed her hand on his back, her sorrow growing when she felt him flinch under her soft touch. Leaning forward, she rested her head against his back, her tears soaking through his white shirt.
"Forgive me, ange," she whispered sadly, wrapping her arms tightly around his torso, fingers interlocking over his abdomen. His body stiffened beneath her before the hand which did not cover his face gently grasped her clasped hands.
"I did not mean to frighten you," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. Her grasp around him tightened, pulling herself closer to him. "Your anger is understandable. I removed your mask without permission," she replied, guilt clear in her voice as she listened to the rapid beating of his heart.
A comfortable silence lapsed between them, neither willing to move from their positions. The Phantom finally the quiet when it dawned on him that his mask was still missing causing him to grow exceedingly uncomfortable being so exposed.
"Christine, may I have my mask returned," he questioned, squeezing the hands that rest on his abdomen. Brown eyes flickered to the white mask that lay discarded on the floor not far from where she sat. "May I see you face first, Maestro?" A shuddered sigh passed his lips and his entire body tensed, but he issued no further complaints.
Slowly standing from her bleeding knees, she silently walked around his form and crouched on the step in between his legs. Horror rushed through her veins as her eyes examined his face, but sorrow washed it away just as quickly as it came.
The right side of his face was severely burned, turning the skin red, especially around his golden eye. The burns were so horrible that the bones of his face could almost be seen in through his skin. Long healed lacerations were scattered over the already damaged skin, each looking as though it was caused by an unsteady hand that wielded either a knife or shard of glass. They each healed differently; some seeming raised and ragged while others left deep grooves in his skin. One in particular seemed to pull the corner of his lip down in a permanent frown.
Slowly reaching up, the tips of her fingers skimmed across his scarred skin causing him to flinch away. She looked at his closed eyes and when he made no move to pull away again, she began to touch his face once more. "My poor Master," she cooed gently, sorrow and sympathy consuming her.
Mismatched eyes flickered open to look at her fearfully face, but saw no disgust in her beautiful eyes. The Phantom's mismatched orbs traced her figure, warmth entering his heart as he examined the woman he loved. Shock flashed across his face when he took in the sight of her bleeding knees.
Before she could protest, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bench of his organ. Placing her on the black furniture, he kneeled before and gently ran his fingers over the lightly bleeding scrapes. She slightly hissed in pain causing him to look up in concern. The expression caused his scars to become more defiant as he stared at her.
Christine gave him a soft smile and cradle his cheek in her hand causing his mismatched eyes to fall closed. "Don't worry, ange. They don't hurt too badly," she whispered, her thumb stroking his skin. Slowly standing, he motioned for her to remain seated before he went in search for bandages. Christine almost giggled when she heard the sound of objects falling to the floor and his quiet cursing.
Christine felt disappoint well up inside her when he returned with his mask back in place. The Phantom almost appeared flustered as he knelt before and began to gently wrap her knees. His mismatched eyes never left his work, his hands moving in a skilled fashion.
When he finished and tied the gauze off, Christine leaned forward and kissed his exposed cheek. He was forced to quickly turn away from her as tears streamed down his face, his heart aching with happiness.
"No…no one has ever…they've never…not even Mother would…but you did…you kissed me," his words were filled with disbelief and amazement as his entire body trembled.
Christine reached out for the Phantom, gently stroking his black hair in comfort. 'Pitiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you known' her thoughts wondered. He leaned into her touch, his head coming to rest against her legs as his tears continued to fall.
