The Music of the Night

A/N: This story is based off the movie (or musical; picture it how you will), though the timeline is different. It takes place just after Christine is first taken beneath the opera house. She has asked Raoul to take her away from Paris, and he has gladly agreed. She shares her thoughts on love, the Phantom, and the music of the night. Read and review!!!


In sleep, he sang to me.

I heard his voice everywhere, a constant whisper in my mind. Honestly, I couldn't have told you whether this frightened or delighted me. At opera rehearsals and outings with Meg, I ignoring it was almost possible… but at nighttime, my mind was his.

Thoroughly frustrated, I reminded myself again and again that he had lied to me for the past seven years. He wasn't the Angel of Music that he had claimed to be for so long. In reality, he was something darker.

He was the Phantom of the Opera.

Yet, to my consternation, he allured me. He was dangerous, mysterious, and hot-tempered… but in spite of that, even the most defensive side of me was unable to deny that his eyes glowed with love when he looked at me. Behind all of his genius, arrogance, and power, he was only a man.

"Fear can turn to love," he had told me as we both sat crying on the ground of his domain beneath the opera house. Yes, his face had shocked me, but his temper had been the only thing that truly terrified me.

I watched the sunset from my bench in a park. I looked around at my beloved, beautiful Paris, but the longing was still there.

I was supposed to leave with Raoul in mere minutes. He had promised to take me away from Paris, to protect me.

But, was I really in any danger? Was I truly in need of protection?

Deep down, I knew that Erik would never hurt me. Yes, he was extremely jealous and possessive, but after knowing him for nearly half of my life, I couldn't just leave him.

In that moment, I knew that fear had turned to love.

Hastily, I wrote a note for Raoul, explaining my change of heart. Then, I left it on the bench and went beneath the Paris Opera House.

o0o

As I approached the shore, I heard soft music. I smiled. Despite the darkness Erik insisted dwelled within him, light was there, too. The music he was playing proved it, and so did the song he sung for about the music of the night.

I quietly made my way over to where he was sitting. He didn't hear me; he was lost in the music he was making on his violin. So, spun around swiftly when I said, "Erik?"

I could instantly see his shock. "Christine? Your young man hasn't taken you away?"

My mouth fell open. "You knew?"

He shook his head sadly. "Oh, Christine. You never fooled me for a moment; I knew you would never return to me. Yet, here you are." Curiosity was burning in his eyes. "Why are you here?"

I looked down at my hands bashfully. I never for a moment second-guessed my decision, but ¾ being shy by nature ¾ telling him how I felt was rather difficult for me.

I think he sensed my turmoil, for he set his violin down and took my hands gently. "Christine, I decided to let you go because… I love you too much to force you to live with this." He gestured to his face, which was halfway covered by his customary white mask. "I want you to be happy. Please, leave with the boy. Forget me, Christine."

I shook my head, still speechless.

He looked up into my face. "Why, Christine… you are crying!" he said, startled. Ever so carefully, he wiped a falling tear off my face.

Gaining courage, I covered his hand with my own. "Please… leave it there," I whispered.

The poor man… he looked so confused. I hated myself for tormenting him in such a way. Finally, I took a deep breath, and words came to my mouth. "Erik, I… I don't want to leave," I said softly. "You pretended to be an angel sent from my father for seven years…"

"Christine…"

I shook my head, afraid that I would never finish if I stopped. "I'm glad, Erik. I needed you. I still need you," I finished quietly.

He rose and stood in front of my, clasping my hands tightly. "Do you mean it?" he asked me, so very vulnerable that my heart ached for him.

I smiled. "Yes. Erik… I love you!"

I didn't have the chance to say anything else, for he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him. I felt his mask against my face, and I reached up and removed it.

Erik stiffened slightly. "Christine, would you not be more comfortable if I wore the mask?" he asked kindly, though I could see the fear of my rejection in his eyes.

"No. I love you for the man you are. I don't want you to hide any part of yourself from me." I tenderly traced his disfigured cheek and vowed to show him all of the happiness that had been denied to him for so long.

He watched me, fascinated. Then, he lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it gently, closing his eyes.

"Christine Daaë, you are my angel," he told me softly. He held out his hand, a waiting invitation. "Help me make the music of the night," he requested.

I took his hand and followed him, never looking back. Then, we went together into the darkness in love, singing the harmony that only we could write: the music of the night.

End.