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The opera house was just getting ready to close up for the evening. Patrons departing into the street to awaiting carriages and performers retiring for the evening. In the sea of goers no one so much as glanced as Christine slipped inside, blending in with the crowd.
She waited patiently in a corridor, staying out of sight. She hid until she was sure the doors were locked up for the night and everyone had gone, the lights dying out.
Even if it were him, she had no guarantee he was even here. But it was a hunch Christine was going by. Even if they weren't in Paris anymore, the Phantom was still a wanted man after the first and last performance of Don Juan. The Gendarme were immediately in pursuit of him after that, but turned up with nothing. Surely even years on he wouldn't risk residing outside a safe haven like this.
Her heels echoed as they clacked on the floor. With the lights out it was difficult to navigate the opera house even more than during the day. Entering the spacious and now silent auditorium she rose up onto the stage, tripping several times before she found proper footing. She wished she could have some light, only able to squint to see the faintest thing in the darkness. But this would have to do.
Clearing her throat, she let the music echo throughout the empty auditorium.
Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination
Silently the senses abandon their defences
The song brought back memories, but it was not a forgotten melody to Christine. Quite often she sang it to Angelique, the child oblivious to the song's origins. But it always seemed to lull the child to sleep when she had night terrors.
She continued to sing, hoping for some sort of futile sign.
Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendour
Grasp it, sense it tremulous and tender
Turn your face away from the garish light of day
Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light
Seeing and hearing no response, the brunette sighed. This was a far fetched idea, had she hoped it would work?
She turned away only to whip back around, Christine's heart skipped a beat when she heard the click clack of footsteps.
And listen to the music of the night A familiar male voice sang from the darkness.
The brunette's eyes wide and her mouth agape, could it be?
"Christine," Erik said, his smooth tenor echoed through the auditorium.
"It really is you," Christine whispered, as he walked closer to where she stood. Now just meters apart, Erik looked up at her from below the stage.
"One moment," He said, She heard the sound of more footsteps and then nothing. A few moments later, Christine turned around seeing a flicker of light come alive. It seemed Sandalphon had also adapted to new electric lighting system.
She heard footsteps again, and could now fully see the ghost from her past as Erik stepped out from behind the curtain. He looked just the same as he had ten years before.
"Is this a dream Christine?" He asked, shaking his head. "You can't be here. You can't."
"But I am,"
Hesitantly he reached over, Erik grasped her tiny hand in his. Christine noted the gold banded ring, with a stone dark as midnight on his finger. He still wore the ring he'd offered her years before. Slowly, his mismatch eyes never leaving hers, Erik placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.
"It is a pleasure to see you," Erik said releasing her hand.
"I should have known that you'd be here, I should have known it all along. This whole arrangement bears your stamp. You're in each measure of that song." Raoul was right, the mysterious Mr. Y and the Phantom were one and the same. And he was here, healthy and alive after ten years had passed them by.
"But Christine, I can't help but wonder why you've come seeking me out."
"I needed to know it was you. Ang-" Christine paused with her words. "I mean...at the service Raoul had thought he'd seen you."
Presently, he seemed to be no threat to her, but she had made that mistake before. For now there were certain things she didn't want him to know.
At the mention of her husband, Erik gave a condescending snort.
"And pray tell how is the Vicomte?" Erik glared.
"He's fine," Christine said drily. "Please don't be like this. I came out here in the dead of night to see you."
"And I take it your husband is unaware of your nightly adventure?"
Christine glanced away, her guilty expression confirmation.
"Well my dear, now that you know I'm alive and well what do you plan to do next? Call the authorities and turn in the Phantom once and for all?"
Christine shook her head, "No! I could never do that to you. You were my tutor, my angel."
Erik felt a lump in his throat hearing her say this.
"You don't need to call me that, we both know I am no angel Christine." He exhaled.
"Erik..."
He grimaced hearing his name spoken aloud, even from such graced lips as Christine's.
"I'm sure you'll be heading back to Paris soon. And before you say another word, my intention is not to stop you Christine. That's why you've come isn't it? To see if I will try and steal you away again? I assure you mon ange, as much as I wish for nothing more than you, I know this cannot be." He explained.
"I have your word? If you do still have these feelings for me, you won't do my family harm whilst we're here?" Christine asked.
Erik looked taken back, "Do you think me such a monster that I would harm a hair on your head? I'd sooner hang myself than do such a thing!"
But he paused.
"Did you say family?" He asked.
Christine stammered, she hadn't meant to let that detail slip. Now there was no avoiding it.
"Yes, I have a child. She's here with Raoul and myself." The brunette admitted.
"I see." Erik turned away, but she could practically hear the scowl he wore based on his tone. "Well, I can assure you that you, the Vicomte...and the child are safe during your stay in the city. Now, if that will be all?"
Christine blinked at the Phantom's cool detachment. "That's it?"
"What more is there? After ten years I've come to realise you don't love me as I love you."
"Love..." Christine looked up, "You do still?"
"No one could ever replace you Christine." Erik chuckled sadly. "Not that any woman would ever wish to have me. Even if it was only for a short while, I felt wanted, loved by you. You remember, don't you?"
Christine couldn't forget, some nights she was even glad to have the memories she did of those days below.
"You should go Christine," Erik sighed. "You being here isn't doing any good for either of us except for satisfying your curiousity."
She nodded. But before stopping herself she felt herself fling forward, putting her arms around the masked man. Erik was frozen in place, starled by the sudden hug.
"Despite what you've done," Christine whispered, "I missed you."
Erik exhaled, slowly putting his arms around Christine, "Not one day has passed that I haven't thought of you."
Pulling away, Erik silently watched Christine descend down off the stage and out the double doors.
A sad smile graced his face, Christine long since left the opera house and back out onto the quiet street.
"Why do I have a feeling our paths will cross again, my angel?" Erik said aloud before snuffing out the light.