Chapter 6
Christine's POV
I sat on the ground with my legs folded under myself. I was in front of my father's grave and stared at his picture. He was always there for me and helped me through everything I did. He was my best friend and my father.
"Father, I need your guidance." I said to the above ground burial. "Who I thought was my Angel of Music, is just a man. And he wants me to marry him. But I don't know if I can, Father. How can I marry someone that I do not love?" I feel a tear slip down my cheek because of his absence.
"He is full of hate. He has killed countless people, and would kill anyone who crosses him. How do I marry him, without going against everything I believe?" And I realized that was what I'd been wondering all along.
"Father, please, guide me." I stood, and without anywhere to go, I went back to Daroga's house.
Erik's POV
After my rage at Daroga, I went back to my bed and sat at its foot. I had done it again. Someone who had actually chosen me, and I pushed them away. I had questioned Daroga's sanity on many occasions. But Christine was different. She was perfect: she was my angel of music. And an angel shouldn't be with a repulsive beast, I thought inwardly.
Just when I was about to give up on life, I heard the front door open. I looked up at the modest, dark brown wooden clock on the bedside table. She'd been gone four hours. Four ever desperately long hours.
With my eyes closed, I listened for her ballerina gentle steps go down the hallway, toward her room. Daroga had retired two hours earlier, so I knew it was her.
I decided to leave her be. But finding myself unsatisfied with sitting in my room with her so close, yet so far away, I slowly picked up the dress and quietly opened up my door. Making sure my steps didn't make a sound, I tentatively walked down the same hall she had moments before, but my footsteps were silent; as if I weren't there at all. Once I reached her room, I left the dress on the table where I had the day before, but lacking a note.
There were no lights coming from under the door, but I knew she was there. I could feel it. Knowing she wouldn't come out if I happened to knock, I went back to my room. Music to reflect my emotions was composing itself in my head, and I began to write to relieve it from my mind.
Christine's POV
I awake and roll onto my back. Raoul's conversation with his guests had taken a toll on my emotions. I thought he would be coming for me. Choosing Erik didn't mean my feelings for Raoul had evaporated. My choice had been made out of logic. Now I had to live with the consequences.
I got out of bed, but didn't want to face Erik. I didn't want to admit that I was afraid of him, but his temper is more than startling. He was like a child in the sense that he pushes people until he gets his way, even if that mean turning threats into actions. If I faced him now after leaving last night, he might be settled down somewhat; but I still didn't want to face him just yet.
Deciding on making my queen sized bed to pass the time seemed a good idea. I hadn't the day before and the sheets were a mess from sleeping in it two nights in a row without straightening them out.
Pulling all the soft white sheets off seemed like the easiest place to begin. Once accomplished, and they lay in a heap on the floor, it takes twice as long to place them back individually. I have to walk around the bed multiple times to pull the sheets back to the right place.
I was so consumed in my own thoughts I almost didn't notice the music. I sat on the edge of my now made bed and just listened. A piano was somewhere in the house, because Erik was playing something dark and beautiful. It was the most beautiful thing I'd heard since…. Since Erik had played "The Resurrection of Lazarus" for me on my father's violin.
I decide that I wanted to be closer to the music so I walked across the room and slightly opened the door. I looked outside of my room at the table to see if the blue dress was there. Sure enough, it was. I was surprised at my disappointment when I picked up the dress and found no note in his red scribbles.
I quickly put it on and left my room without looking in the mirror to check my appearances. I had to hear the music first hand without walls distorting the perfect song. Music was our major connection, I realized. It's what we both had in common and where our appreciation for the other lay. If we're truly to be married, I vow I will understand him and get to know him for more than just his musical genius.
Feeling empowered by my decision, I quicken my step to follow the music, as if it's sound was guiding me to my future.
The next chapter will be longer. And better. Sorry for the wait, guys.