Once upon a time, Raoul had hated the moon.
This was back when he was a child, and allowed to play until it grew dark and the moon replaced the sun. He had loathed that, the end of his playing, especially in the summer days when he played with Christine. Her pure, sweet voice had ended with the daylight, and with the moon began a night often filled with restless dreams.
He was grown up now, and now the Vicomte de Chagny stood outside on a balcony, watching the crescent moon. This was the same moon that had hooked onto his reality and pulled it away until Raoul realized what a mistake he had made, loving Christine. It was the same moon that accompanied his most special nights.
The night wind tussled his blond hair, and Raoul leaned on the balcony, wondering when his angel would come. Two seconds later, his thoughts were put to rest as a pair of strong arms wrapped around him from behind and he was pulled back against a broad chest. A pair of lips dipped down by his ear and whispered,
"Sorry I'm late."
Raoul smiled.
"It's alright, Erik. I like watching the moon."