Six months.
Six long months without life.
Without music.
Without him.
As she wandered down the long dark corridor toward her dressing room, Christine reflected on what had transpired between her and her angel.
Angel? No. He was not an angel, but a monster, a phantom. Her phantom.
And yet, he never caused her harm nor gave her a reason to hate him.
... except for the chandelier.
The pain he must have felt after her betrayal, giving and denouncing his love in order to claim the affections and protections of her childhood sweetheart. Poor Raoul...
Christine shuddered as she remembered the screaming of the glass, the shock and awe from the audience as the chandelier fell from the sky, landing a few feet away from where she stood. The instant whimper of sorrow that flew down from the rafters.
She turned the door knob and locked herself within the dressing room. She caught the sight of tears on her blush stained cheeks reflecting back at her from the tall gold encased mirror. Wiping them away hurriedly, she sat before it.
That first night he came to her as a man still haunted the back of her thoughts. The sighs of contempt and adoration were soft and silent as he led her through the darkness to his home. Within the darkness, he praised her for her triumphant, he was pleased with her. His voice, that beautiful angel's voice, surrounded her as she fell into dreams of heaven.
Why, then, if she could live in dreams of bliss, did she shatter the illusion?
If she were being completely honest with herself, she knew why within her heart. Her heart had wanted to see the face of her angel, the face of the man she had adored. Perhaps, if he had a full face, her heart would've skipped a beat with adoration, and she would've clasped his head within her hands and kissed him.
Instead, her heart had dropped into her stomach, and her voice, ready for praises and adoration, squeaked in surprise. She didn't scream, she squeaked.
Looking back on it, Christine remembered his fury, his anger. The way his mismatched eyes flashed with pain, grief, and hostility all at once. Fear can turn to love… you'll learn to see and find the man behind the monster…
He must be in terrible pain to have loved her so fully, then to have lost her all in one meeting.
But had he?
Christine shook her head in dismay.
No, she had lost him…
Erik watched from the other side of Christine's mirror.
Honestly, he should have kept away.
His mentality had screamed for him not to return to where he stood now as memories of the gypsy camps and that night of the chandelier flashed through his mind. His heart, as broken as it may be, begged to go to her. If he could see her just once, it would be enough…
Upon his arrival, there was not a soul in sight. Just the silent room with only flickering candles as his companions again. He decided to wait for a while before returning to his home within hell.
He had thought she would never show herself, but his ears picked up the sound of the opening door. He stepped away from the mirror, letting the darkness surround him. He felt his breath catch when he saw Christine enter the room and lock the door behind her.
She hadn't changed since he'd seen her last, which was a surprise. Becoming the Vicomte's fiancé meant Christine could be wearing all the jewels of the world. But, not a single gem or stone anywhere, not even her favorite string of pearls that he had sent her for her birthday when she turned twenty.
She wore a simple blue gown with white lace and seemed to be weeping, even though she had hurriedly wiped the tears away.
Oh, the thought of her crying was painful for him to watch. He had to be the cause of those tears.
All his life, he had tormented and frightened, never being the cause to smile or laugh. All he caused was pain and agony, especially toward Christine. This beautiful angel didn't deserve to be treated harshly or scorned, she needed to be smiling and free to soar.
The phantom looked at his shoes in guilt, until he heard a small whisper.
"Ange… please come back…"
He looked up to see that Christine had fell before the mirror, hands pressed against the cool glass, crystal tears still falling on her cheeks.
His heart ached, caught in his throat. His thoughts were in a whirl. Among the confusion and shock, a single thought stood out.
She needs you now, maybe more than ever.
Erik watched her cry silently, making up his mind by calling out to her, "Christine…"
"Christine…"
Christine's head shot up in surprise. He's here…
But, she couldn't bare to think that he was. After all, he had disappeared completely from her life. No goodbyes, no note, nothing.
She hadn't prepared herself, either for his disappearance nor his return. But still…
"Erik?" she had rushed to her feet and pressed herself close to her dressing room mirror, the same one he had appeared in the first time he came to her as a man, not an angel, "Are you there, ange?"
"Yes, my dear," a soft voice fluttered in her ear, "I will always be here…"
"You weren't there six months ago," Christine accused, "You were gone, out of my life. Even when I needed you most, you never came. I cried for you several times, and yet you never appeared…"
There was silence, then he spoke, "I never intended to hurt you, Christine… but when you flew to the Victome with words of terror, I had assumed you didn't want to see me, not ever again."
He watched as Christine slumped her head, murmuring, "I was frightened. You scared me with your anger that first night, and when Raoul was there…"
She shook her head and sighed, pressing her back against the mirror, head resting on the cool glass, "I felt as if I had no one to turn to."
Erik, unknown to her, had stepped up behind her, pressing his hand against the glass. Heaven, for him, seemed so close, and yet so far away.
"I'm sorry, Christine," he whispered, "You must understand that it was never my intention to hurt or to frighten you. But, my mask… it is the only protection I know in this world. As a boy, I was forced to wear it around my mother. If I didn't, she would make me stand in front of a mirror for hours, with no place to turn or to hide. At the end of it all, she would toss me my mask and remind me that I was an unwanted demon."
"Then, that first night I brought you with me and you snatched my mask…"
Christine was listening intensely, several new tears escaping her as the voice continued, "It destroyed me beyond belief. I had completely lost you in those few seconds… By God Christine! I was so angry! At you, me, and my face that I lashed out… Then, I was afraid… afraid that you were going to leave me forever…"
"And you saw me with Raoul," Christine finished.
"Yes… I saw you with the boy. And again, my anger rose and got the better of me."
Both were silent as they remember the chandelier falling again, one nearly killed while the other in a blind rage.
Christine absently placed her hand on the glass and felt a warmth on the other side, "I'm so sorry, ange," she murmured, "Can you ever forgive me for being so blind?"
She heard a small chuckle as Erik replied, "I will always forgive you, mon petite. You are the one light in this world of darkness I've had to endure."
"You are the same to me, Erik. You are the same for me."
Then a small click and Christine felt the mirror move.
She stood and dusted herself off as Erik quietly made his way into the dressing room. She darted into his embrace as he held her close, feeling the warmth of her body and the scent of lilacs and roses that embraced them both.
Perhaps sinners, he thought, can be forgiven after all…