Disclaimer: I don't own The Phantom of the Opera, or any of the characters.

Chapter One

"Christine!" The blonde girl stood on her tiptoes with her hands covering her mouth in an attempt to usher the excitement back inside her.

"It's true, it happened only moments ago, Meg. He told me he loved me on the roof. It was so romantic, he confessed right next to the angel, comforting me in his arms. Oh Meg, my heart races, feel," she jumped over to her friend, placing the younger girl's hand on her heart. Meg smiled up at her.

"Oh Christine, you lucky, lucky girl. I couldn't be happier for you."

"Thank you. Oh, please forgive me for rushing you out, but Raoul told me to get ready, he's treating me to dinner. Excuse me, I need to get ready."

"Need you say no more, I'm off. Enjoy yourself, and behave mon amie," she winked, and scurried out the door. Christine watched her leave, sighing. So much had happened that night, and although she should have still been shaken by the death of the stagehand, she couldn't help but smile. Raoul had made her leave all thoughts behind with his declaration of love. She sighed, turning to the mirror examining her hair. She stood puzzled brushing her hair, wondering why her Angel would ever do such a wicked thing. She'd trusted him, surrendered her mind for the sake of music, and he ran off to do something unspeakable. But the more she thought, the more she came to terms that she could never hate the Phantom. Deep inside her aching soul, she cared strongly for the broken man, and knew that she always had. In her time of loneliness and need, he scooped her up, and nurtured her shattered heart, feeding her sweet, sad tunes of breathtaking music. She sighed. 'Though I care for my angel, and possibly feel something more, he only cares for my well being and music.' she thought.

"You've betrayed me you foolish child," a deep, rich voice whispered gently. She froze, her breath stopping momentarily. Any other girl would think that a ghost was talking but she knew better. The Phantom was once again inside her mirror, watching her every move. She shuddered.

"Angel I-"

"Don't you dare call me that anymore. I am you angel no longer Christine. You've made your decision on who you'd prefer to guard you moments ago." She gulped. He couldn't have possible been there. Could he?

"I don't know what you speak of."

"Don't act daft with me child. I heard the two of you melting all over one another on the roof. You seem to forget that I am the Phantom, and I can be wherever I want to be in an instant. You also seem to have forgotten that if it weren't for me, that wretched boy wouldn't even know you exist." he spat. Thought still frightened, she managed to sputter out a word or two.

"You don't know what you're saying. He loves me, and what you say is not true."

"Oh really? I have eyes all over, and I see the way he gawks at some of the sad attempts of women in this opera house. He didn't see you until I handed that role to you from Hannibal. He doesn't love you, and if he does it will be because I made it happen."

"Then I thank you monsieur. He is the best thing that's ever happened to me." she said, her own words stabbing at her, though her anger towards the man was still there, and she would not let him win.

"That pathetic excuse of a man is the best that's ever happened to you?" he growled. "I gave you a voice, my music, I gave you a name you insolent child." Christine's anger had risen, unable to stand the insults being thrown at her other love, or what her mind and sweet words had made him to be.

"I am not a child monsieur, and yes, he is."

"You are a child. You don't know what you want, and he is certainly not what you need."

"And what is it that I need, sir?"

"A man, Christine, a man!" She could hear his ragged breathing.

"You need a man that can give you everything." He pause for a long moment. Holding back small tears, she continued brushing her hair, trying to look strong while glaring into the mirror.

"I gave you everything Christine, everything I am and own. I gave it all to you and you tossed it aside like debris . You took a sword and pierced my heart without so much as a thought. And when you kissed that boy…"he trailed off. Christine slowly lowered the brush, staring rather guiltily at her reflection. She was shocked at the emotional change he had just underwent. Through the silence, she could hear a small, stifled sniffle. Her eyes widened, the meaning of his words sinking into her.

Everything he had, he gave to her, mind, body, and soul. She recalled the innumerable portraits of her in his home, the tasks done to make her a star…the mannequin of her in a wedding gown. And as she gazed into the mirror, she realized that this man, this angel was her reflection. Everything she knew and loved about life was also in him, and she owed him everything. She looked down, ashamed, and realized the truth without asking. He loved her, and she merely shot him down, despite the mix of strong feelings she felt for him also. A long moment of silence passed, and without thinking, words began dripping out of her trembling lips.

"So then you are a man sir?"

"Much more than that boy." he rasped.

"Well if you're so sure of yourself, why have you never stepped up to be that man?" Immediately after she spoke, the mirror opened, and the Phantom stood there, eyes ablaze.

"Surely you wouldn't willingly subject yourself to such a grotesque torture, now would you mademoiselle?" Cruelty masked the broken man inside of him, the only way he could live. His anger towards her was still great, and there was no way he would admit then and there his love for her.

"Possibly, if given the chance." she said, tonelessly. He glided over to her, grabbing her wrists, and slamming her up against one of the walls. She winced, but allowed him to proceed and release the pent up agony she'd caused him.

"You don't know what you're saying or stepping into girl. Speak wisely or I might get the wrong impression." His face was inches from hers, and it frightened her. Her face softened, and he eased his grip a bit.

"I care for you, I do. But I need you to admit that you care for me also." His eyes widened at her words, and he released his hold on her.

"What?" he whispered. She raised her hand to stroke his face. His eyes closed, and he leaned into her touch, his body betraying the string of fury driven string of emotions running through him.

"Admit that you love me as I know you do, and I will leave with you." Christine herself was shocked at her choice of words. They were true, but she didn't know that they would be so strong to her and her Phantom. But it was as if the words were coming from somewhere deep inside of her, and she could not help herself from saying them.

"Christine, I-I don't know what to tell you."

"Tell me what you truly feel."

"But you couldn't run off with me, the people, people you know will worry-"

"I don't care, for as long as I am with you, the others mean nothing." Finally admitting what she should've long ago, she felt invisible chains being cut, allowing her to say what she truly felt.

"But the boy-"

"Exactly, he is a boy, and you're right Monsieur Phantom, I need a man as you have advised. And I should always follow my Phantom's instructions, should I not?" She took a step forward, stretching her hand out to touch his face, but he slowly backed away from her. She could see, as he walked into the light, that he was actually scared. He'd done everything possible to get to where he was, to claim her as his, but when finally confronted with the opportunity, he found it too great, and was in too much of a shock to go through with it.

"Angel," he didn't object to the name. "This is real, I am real, and I'm telling you that I will willingly run away with you, so long as you confess to what you feel."

Coming back to earth, he blinked several times, shaking his head and putting himself back in order. He stood up straight, and took a breath, staring at her.

"I cannot deny anything you ask me to tell you, or anything you want. But to admit this would do neither of us any good. Even if I was able to vanish with you Christine, there will always be interruptions, and too many things are in the way at the moment." he said, boldly stepping closer to her.

"Just admit to me Angel, and I'm yours."

"I want that more than life itself Christine."

"Then tell me." He was now right in front of her, his face once again inches from hers. He searched her face for any traces of deception, finding none. Then, slowly he lowered his head, taking in her entranced features. She gently shut her eyes, her body quivering with anticipation. Then as if by cue, a knock sounded at the door.

"Lotte, are you ready? My carriage awaits us as does a scrumptious dinner." the Vicomte said, cheerily.

The Phantom's face twisted into a sneer of pure disgust, as he looked at Christine, then to the door, then to her again. Fixing his ebony cloak, he straightened himself, then stalked over to the mirror, upset, his previous anger from the previous situation returning.

"You see child, I told you there were too many interruptions preventing us from a life," he spat out, softly. Christine looked down, tears slowly streaming down her face.

"Forgive me," she whispered. He deafened himself to her piteous words, and was halfway out the room, when he turned, grimacing. He tossed something cold and disheveled on the rug.

"By the way, you forgot this," he said, his voice gently, yet lined with venom. He shut the mirror, and was gone. She walked over to the long object. The rose she'd mindlessly dropped on the roof earlier lay dead and unloved on the floor. She fell to her knees, sobbing into her hands, unable to forgive herself for what she had done to him.

A/N: I rated it M for later chapters, though I don't really know where I'm going with this thing. Hope you like it!