Christine's eyes widened slightly. She knew that voice and it certainly was not Piangi's. She slowly turned her head to the man singing to her. It was him, her angel. Whatever she had said to Raoul, whatever the other girls whispered, whatever the managers said, he was her angel. He always had been. He'd never hurt her, never done anything abhorrent to her. He'd done nothing but love her. Yet here she was, taking part in the plot to kill him.
What on earth was she doing? He had offered her the world, made her a prima donna. Set her free, made her voice better than she'd ever dreamed. In return she'd betrayed him, denied him, run into Raoul's arms and allowed herself to be persuaded to kill her maestro. She was as bad as Judas. Yet, in her angel's eyes was still love, after all she'd done to him he still loved her. She didn't deserve him, but she wouldn't deny him now.
He was closer now then all of a sudden he was behind her with one hand at her throat and one round her waist. She felt on fire where he touched her nothing to how she felt at Raoul's gentle touch. Not even his kisses had set her alight like this. He slid his hands down her arm and she stared into his eyes in awe. His voice had always entranced her but combined with his touch she felt consumed.
She struggled to catch her breath and only succeeded when he released her hand. She felt slightly dizzy and only just registered her cue. She sang the words he'd written for her and finally understood them. She felt the passion of them, the lusting undertones made her skin burn in desire. She turned to him and nodded slightly. A silent answer to his silent question. They made their way to opposite staircases, eyes locked on each other. The tension between them tangible and so apparent the stage seemed to take on a red hue.
They had reached the bridge now. Christine felt exhilarated, alive, bright and burning. She felt as if she were being softly caressed by fire, her thighs throbbed and she ached for her angel to touch her again. Their voices rose together. A perfect complement of each other. She felt darkness bloom inside her like a black rose opening it's petals to welcome the morning sun. Light, realisation, it hit her like a ton of bricks as they met in the centre of the bridge.
He spun her into his arms and she felt complete. She couldn't choose to love him; they were made for each other. Two halves of the same soul. He was not her teacher, her mentor, her friend, her angel, her lover, he was her second self. The last note faded and she leaned into him a little more. She felt safe and loved.
"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Lead me, save me from my solitude. Say you want me with you here, beside you." Her eyes opened. He was using Raoul's words but they weren't making her question herself, as Raoul had, they were making her heart soar. She looked into his eyes, those beautiful, perfect, sorrow filled eyes. He had been alone all his life, all he wanted was love, love that she'd denied him even though she was filled with it. Her heart was already his; she'd just failed to notice until now
"Christine! " She brought her hand to his cheek, smiling gently at him. Apologising eternally with her eyes. She did want him. "That's all I ask of you!" She took his masked face in her hands and gently brought her lips to his. Their kiss turned heated and the music stopped. She pulled back slightly and whispered.
"Eternally Erik, I love you." The floor fell away and they fell with it. Their arms around each other, their lips together. Away from the opera, away from Raoul and into the night. Two hearts that beat as one.