Authors note: this was a short drabble that I most definitely am going to continue after this chapter. This is my first phantom fanfic, so please be as easy as possible. I hope you enjoy!

p.s. I don't own anything; all rights go to Gaston Leroux and ALW.

"Dearest Christine,

I am writing you to inform you that I shall be coming to get you quite soon. You chose ME, Christine. I shall hold this choice of yours till your dying day. You WILL be with me. I'm sorry it must work out that way if you do not like it, but there's not much more that I can say.

You and I shall wed in three days time in a small church just on the outskirts of Paris. Afterwards, we are to stay at an inn not too far from there, but far enough away so your little De Changy boy doesn't come running after you. You shall be known as Madame Christine Destler, henceforth, my wife. You shall address me as Erik, for that is my name if you didn't know before (you never asked, you see…)

I shant force you to make love with me that night, but if you do not object or do not mention beforehand that you do not wish to take part in such activities, I shall not hesitate taking what is rightfully mine to take. After that night, we will depart on horseback and ride to the coast, where we will board a passenger ship moving vastly to England. We shall be heading to the outskirts of London in a cottage that I have purchased, where we shall lay low for quite some time before we have enough to have our own manor bought and built.

This letter will be delivered to you by Madame Giry, or as I know her, Antoinette. I expect no trouble. My definition of trouble would be Parisian police, your fop, or hesitation towards you on any part. If I see anyone try and stop me, I shall murder them on sight.

I will arrive at 7:30 on your balcony and expect to be seeing you there. Do not bring much clothing, only the necessities to last for three to five days and items that you hold dear to you.

… I love you Christine Daae. I hope you do not hate me too much for this.

I promise that you will be happy… eventually. I shall make sure of it.

Your friend, teacher, angel, and soon to be husband,

Erik."

Christine's hands shook, making the parchment she was holding flutter gently to the ground.

"I am so sorry, my dear… is there anything I can do?" Madame Giry rushed to hold her tightly.

"No, but thank you. In fact, I believe I should be happy." Christine smiled in the arms of Madame Giry.

"How so? Do you not love Raoul?" Madame Giry asked surprised.

"Of course I love Raoul…" Christine replied gently, without fear. "…But not the way I thought I did. I cannot learn to love him in any way more than a friend. I can, however, learn to love Erik… hmm… Erik. Such a handsome name."