hrDisclaimer: I own nothing from Phantom of the Opera. I make no profit from this.
Author's Note: Aww, mix romance with drama with angst and what do you have? I don't know. But hopefully you'll like it. Review and let me know!
Chapter Two – Never Again
Even now my heart is breaking at the thought of never seeing her again. Never again seeing the slight blush that came to her face when I complimented her after lessons; never again seeing the flush that came to her cheeks when she sang with such vigor as she lost herself in her music; never again seeing her push her long dark brown curls over her shoulder as she prepared to sit down at my feet as I began to read to her.
It was pure torture. I'd never be able to hear her voice mix with mine. I was no longer her maestro, her Angel of Music; simply a suitor that had failed to woo the only woman he would ever love.
I can still hear her sing, at least. I believe it's the only thing that keeps me living anymore, if alive is even what I qualify as. When I sit in box five at rehearsals, I cry silently as I wish to hear her next to me, singing by my side at the piano.
Never again.
I'm surprised I haven't died yet.
I want to. Dying seemed like the only alternative after she left with the damned viscount.
I sometimes, actually, I always wonder if I had been a handsome, wholesome man, if she would've stayed by my side. Chagny, he was so perfect, with his boyish charms and pretty boy features. If I'd been that way, would she have picked me?
It's not right. I was no normal suitor. It was uneven from the beginning.
But damn it, I loved that girl. She was and still is my soul, my life. I still write songs for her, still write love sickened duets that we could've sung together and been great.
She was mine, before she was ever his. It's unfair, isn't it? When he seduces her with worldly objects, she's his. But when I sang, she was mine. When I read to her, she was mine. And bloody hell, I could've given her so much more than he ever could have.
But it doesn't matter now.
No… No, never again.
And I'll never love another. I'm damned to live this life on my own. I wish I would die, and be rid of this lonely life. Perhaps… No, I wouldn't go to Heaven.
I'd rot in Hell.
Though, it'd be nice to go to Heaven, and see my mother, and be a beautiful angel. Perhaps then, I could truly be Christine's Angel of Music, and she'd always love me then.
But I'm not going to Heaven, and I'll never be with my little angel again.
"Erik?" He knew the voice…
But why would she be back?
"Angel?" Her voice once again.
No, it cannot be…
"Erik, please look at me."
Christine!