Author's Note: Hey, this is my first "phan" fic that I've ever posted!(It's exciting). This was an paper for English, but I just changed the names for school. My English teacher knows nothing about good books. It's really sad. Anyway, I'm sorry that I kill somebody. I'm in an angsty mood right now, so I just went with it. Hope you enjoy it though.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters except Melodie. Erik and Christine are property of the minds of Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber and Susan Kay.
I sat there, watching as her little, chubby arms flailed around as though she were trying to catch invisible things in the air. I chucked at this tiny bundle.
"So curious," I chuckled again. At this sound, she stopped her flailing and looked up at me. Her sapphire eyes glistened in the candlelight. Such beautiful eyes she had. They were her mother's. Sometimes, I thought I could see the tiny stars of the night sky in them. I smiled. I looked down upon tiny child, and saw that she had returned my gesture and was beaming up at me. I could do nothing but smile more. This tiny child had brought me so much delight; I could hardly contain my joy at times. But, there were times when I was gripped with thoughts of sadness and pain. There were times when her little face reminded me of her mother. The woman I had loved, and still love.
A wave of emotion came over me. It was one of grief and of love. This emotion pulled at my heart, and sent me into a reverie of memories, memories of her. I wanted her back. Why had fate been so cruel to me? Had it not hurt me enough? Memories flooded my mind, taking me back to a time when things had been better, when things had been happier.
"Ma Ange de la Musique," she cooed as she wrapped her delicate fingers around my hair. We were lying on a silken bed holding one another. It had only been a few nights after the birth of our daughter and we were both ecstatic. The little infant lay between us sleeping soundlessly. As she lay there, we, the proud new parents, could do nothing but adore her. "Erik?"
"Oui, ma belle?" I answered in our mother tongue. She looked at me lovingly and I brushed a strand of her luscious, curly blond hair from her beautiful face. She stared at me with her sapphire eyes, and for a moment, we were lost.
"What are we to name this beautiful child?" she asked. Her gaze adverted to the infant, and she stroked her small face. I watched as this event took place; a new mother, tenderly stroking her child's face in possession and in love. It must have been the most beautiful thing I ever witnessed. "Well, Erik?" she said looking up at me. I hadn't been paying attention to her words, and only just came to my senses when she spoke to me. She giggled.
"What?" I asked in utter confusion. Her giggles turned into a smiled as she shook her head at me.
"You weren't even listening were you, Monsieur du Bois?" she laughed. I hung my head shamelessly. At that moment, an idea popped in my mind. I looked up at her and gave her the so called "puppy dog" eyes.
"No Madame, I was not. Will you forgive me?" She looked at me questionably when I said this. Of course, she knew that I was only being playful. She turned head and made a face of thought.
"Well…" she began. She looked at me again, and saw that my face was still in a position of cuteness. "Well, I guess so, but only if you help me name our daughter," she said quite demandingly. I nodded my head in agreement.
"What about Antoinette?" I asked. Again, she looked at me questionably. I looked back at her shrugging my shoulders as if asking what was wrong with that name.
"Really, Erik, you want to name her after Madame?" Her face told me that she thought I was crazy.
"Why not? Madame has been nothing but good to us," I replied.
"Erik she's…she's…old," she said whispering "old". I looked at her again. Her face was one of complete seriousness. She did not want to name our child after the woman who had brought us together. I sighed, realizing my defeat.
"Alright, what do you want to name her?" She pondered a moment. Her hand came to her chin, and her sapphire eyes lowered to look upon our daughter. It was when her head popped up and a twinkle came into her eyes that I knew she had thought of something perfect.
"What is she to us, Erik?" she asked excitedly. I was taking back by this question. What was our daughter to us? I pondered for a brief moment, and then I knew exactly what the answer was.
"Everything, our whole world," I answered. She smiled brightly at me.
"Exactly, and what is our world made of?" She was getting more and more excited as I got closer and closer to what she had thought of.
"Music and love." I was still not exactly sure what she was getting at.
"Yes, and what does all music need to survive?" I was starting to get a little annoyed with this Q and A.
"I… I don't know, a… a melody," I answered with obvious annoyance in my voice. I looked at her with annoyance spread across my face, but was only greeted by her beautiful smile. She nodded at me, telling me my answer of a melody was correct.
"Christine, what does a melody have to do with this?" I asked, obviously not understanding what had been put before me. She laughed. She looked down at the infant again and stroked her face.
"A melody, she's our melody, Erik," she said warmly still stroking the child. At that moment I understood. She was our melody. Christine and I had only been the beat and a harmony until our daughter had come into our lives. We were now our own symphony. We were now complete.
A small tear trailed down my cheek as I concluded this reverie. It had been one of the happiest times in my life; the naming of my daughter, our daughter. Suddenly, I felt a light tugging on my arm. I looked down a saw that the tiny child was gently pulling on my black sleeve, trying to get my attention. I smiled and picked her up out of her crib. She made small baby noises as I did this, and I laughed in amusement. With her in my arms, I sat down on a chair opposite to the crib. When I looked at the child, I saw that she was beaming up at me again. It reminded me of her mother. I adverted my gaze from the child, and my eyes threatened to shed unwanted tears. I felt another sensation on my arm. Quickly, I turned my gaze back to the child. She was holding my thumb in her little hand and was looking up at me with a gaze that asked what was wrong.
"You never cease to amaze me," I said tenderly. I stroked her head with my other hand as her mother had done so many times before. Her little sapphire eyes twinkled as I did this. I laughed. This caused her to giggle and me to only laugh more.
"Pa, pa!" she squealed in our laughter. I stopped suddenly. Had she really said what I believe I heard?
"Did you just say Papa?" I asked in utter amazement. She squealed again.
"Pa, pa!" This time she clapped her hands together as she said the word. I was amazed; she had spoken her first words. I was so excited; I went to call out to Christine. I stopped. At that moment, I truly realize something. Christine was gone; Christine was dead. I looked down again at the tiny child. Her expression was again asking me what was wrong.
"I wish your maman was here to see this," I told her, a solemn look across my face.
"Ma, man?" she answered. Amazement came over me again.
"Yes, maman!" I said nodding my head furiously. I jumped out of the chair excitedly and span around with her in my arms. She laughed as this was done, and I laughed along like a mad man.
Finally, out of breath, I stopped. She looked up at me with her twinkling sapphire eyes and smiled.
"It will be okay, won't it?" I asked her. She only continued smiling at me. At that moment I realized something; I realized that my love for Christine would always be with me, in both my heart and in our daughter, Melodie.