A/N: Don't you love this song? Actually, I LOVE the whole Batman Forever soundtrack…I don't own it. Anything here, not just the soundtrack. Anyway, I need constructive crits on whether my songphics are repetitive or not… 3 to readers, goce!

xxxxxx

While she was just a girl, there would be no denying how much she had changed him. Absently staring at her, flushed cheeks against the wine-red velvet, he wondered how much. There was something in his life now, a happy something, and yet...he was still unsure of it, almost afraid to acknowledge it's presence.

There used to be a grey tower alone on the sea
You became, the light on the dark side of me

Oh yes, hope. Hades below, he couldn't stand to look at her without an adrenaline rush that came with the realization that she was here, with him, and...maybe she wanted to be there.

Love remains a drug that's a high, not a pill

Finally he left her sleeping form, going to the organ and automatically picking up the score of Don Juan score. Instead of reading it, he continued to watch her, eyes golden in the half-light, catching a blurry tan, white, and amber reflection in the pewter of a mirror frame. He couldn't understand how such a little thing could throw him into fits of passion, rage, and tenderness faster than faster than he could swing his lasso. Admittedly, he had been subject to such change in emotion before, but never this quickly, and rarely to such an intensity he couldn't control himself...

But did you know?
That when it snows?
By eyes become large and, the light that you shine can't be seen...

He pondered on 'his' soprano's past...She had come from a dark childhood, not as macabre as his, but her parent's death, raised on charity, alone in the Opera Populaire. How did one come from such a past without a shred of bitterness, anger, regret, or frustration? That such a strong, virtuous young woman would grant him a moment of her time, even for lessons, was surprising. But now she would come out of the shadows, out to where her father, and he, knew where she belonged...

I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grave
Oh, the more I get of you
Stranger it feels, yeah
And now that your rose is in bloom
A light hits the gloom on the grave.

She stirred in her sleep, rustling the muslin of her dress and the lace of the curtains, causing him to start. Her mouth parted slightly, as though she were about to speak. He smiled bitterly. And what would you say to me, mon chere? Confess that she was his, she would sing forever, that she could look past the mask and the rage, that she wished to leave his dark dungeons forever and run to her precious Vicomte's arms? What would he do in response...Plead with her, now that he had seen the light, the dark seemed lonelier than ever...

There is...
So much a man can tell you, so much he can say,
You remain
My power, my pleasure, my pain.
To me your like a growing addiction that I can't deny
Won't you tell me is it healthy, baby?

Maybe for him seeing her under the limelight, singing his song would be enough. Part of his training, his voice, his passion, was in her, wasn't there? But would that mean that there was a piece of her inside him, a shaft of light and reason? Perhaps if he was lucky enough. Watching her face change from resilant and pale to ardent and alive would slip a little sanity, a little content back into him, maybe instill a spark of hope. His eyes held a sad resolve in the flickering candlelight, a resignation that Christine would not be able to place until it was too late.

For now, mon ange, it will have to be enough.

I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grave
Oh, the more I get of you
Stranger it feels, yeah
And now that your rose is in bloom
A light hits the gloom on the grave...