Author's note:

Chapter 10? Already?

To Summers1- Yeah, it's funny! Clarie was actually inspired by their song Imaginary! xD and as for the rest of the album, I haven't heard all of it but yeah I'll definitely try it!

And also michellecarriveau- Thanks for the reviews! I'm always happy to see a new one! I hope this one is good for you too! :)

I am SO SO SO sorry for the delay! It has been an extremely long two weeks for me, but hopefully the craziness is over now. Enjoy!

Christine's POV:

"Is something troubling you, Christine?"

Christine forced herself to look at Raoul, offering an unconvincing smile.

"No, everything is fine," she said as nonchalantly as possible. Raoul seemed to believe her and smiled back, before turning back to the road ahead of them. Christine let out a long sigh as soon as he wasn't looking. No, everything was definitely not fine.

When Raoul had taken her to supper the other night, of course Christine had been nervous. Why wouldn't she be? He could be anywhere. But she had gone, and the night went by without a hitch. Christine had even rather enjoyed herself with Raoul. And there wasn't a word of complaint from the angel all night. Not while she was with Raoul, not when she was alone in her room.

It was starting to worry her.

She nervously began wringing at her hands, hoping Raoul wouldn't notice. Was he angry with her? Did she not sing well enough? Or was it Raoul?

Christine chewed at the inside of her lip, which was already becoming raw. Suppose it was Raoul that angered him… What was she to do? Stop seeing him?

At that moment, the young suitor happened to look at Christine again with those wonderfully glimmering hazel eyes. His lips parted into a happy smile. And Christine felt her heart jump as her mouth curled into a smile of its own. She knew the answer then, just as surely as she knew her name. In a mere second, that smile had managed to push all her fears and worries away. Not the smile itself, but what she saw behind it. There was love in that smile.

Her heart skipping a beat with the joy and love that only the youthful possess, Christine thought that maybe, just maybe, things would turn out right in the end. Just as long as Raoul was there.

REALLY QUICK AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Okay, I feel like I should explain myself. No, I am not against Erik and Christine being together in ANY way, shape, or form. Christine and Raoul in this story has nothing to do with my personal opinion of poto shippings. It just works out more this way. And it's kind of just me trying to show what I think Christine actually was- she wasn't trying to break anyone's hearts, she was just looking desperately for love. :)

Clarie's POV:

"Mother, I'm worried about her," Meg whispered in what she perceived to be a quiet voice as she spoke to Madame Giry, "she won't leave her room. I don't think she's moved at all today."

Clarie kept her face blank, which wasn't hard to do, and pretended not to hear her. Her eyes focused intently on the creamy white wall above her head, but her mind was blank, completely wiped clean except for that one horrid word uttered to her in the dead of night:

Sing.

After the voice dissolved into air, and the angel left her presence, Clarie had stood there for hours, absolutely horrified. She wasn't sure exactly when she had fallen onto her bed, but around noontime Meg had come in to check on her-probably after noticing her absence at the Sunday brunch-and found her in the exact position she was in now, her pale face colored only by the red in her nose as she had let the fire go out.

"Hmm," Clarie heard Madame Giry say. She could picture without looking the wrinkled face of the aged woman, boring holes into Clarie's head with the intensity of her gaze. "Well, Meg, I am sure Clarie is quite capable of taking care of herself, though I am sure she will appreciate your care. We must not pry, do you understand?"

"But…" Meg protested, growing slightly in volume with her growing concern.

"Meg," Madame Giry said strictly. She lowered her voice for what she said next, but Clarie's sensitive ears easily heard what she said.

"You know how unstable Miss Mercier can be."

Clarie could feel herself visibly wince at that statement. It stung, no matter how much in shock she was. That nagging urge to be alone was suddenly and rapidly overtaking her. Luckily, at least Madame Giry respected privacy.

"Meg," her voice said, "why don't you get some tea and breakfast for Clarie?"

"But…yes, mother." Soon the door was heard closing, with frantic footsteps in the hallway quickly following. But Clarie didn't move yet. She knew Madame Giry was still there; she could feel it.

Sure enough, the woman soon spoke.

"I apologize for the intrusion of my daughter, Miss Mercier. Please, if you need anything, do not hesitate to come talk to me."

It was not an invitation, Clarie knew, but rather sympathy. A quiet sort of indignation grew unnoticed at the pit of her stomach. She didn't need pity, didn't want it.

As soon as the door closed for a second time, she practically gasped with relief. Like she was a puppet on strings, she numbly stood to her feet and walked to the door. She desperately needed quiet again, where no one would think to look for her. And she knew the perfect place.

Erik's POV:

Erik was not sure what had possessed him to go back to the dark attic. He did not usually venture into rooms so open, regardless of how abandoned they were. After all, hadn't Clarie just proved how easily he could be discovered in it?

But he found that he didn't really care.

Erik was pleased, a strange and foreign feeling to him, but one he felt nonetheless. He had no regrets about the command he had just imposed on the girl he barely knew anything about. It was about time he began to get things done. How could he possibly learn anything useful about the girl (for his purposes, anyway) if he did not even know what her voice sounded like?

"Hello?"

The voice startled Erik so badly that he knocked over a vase that had been sitting peacefully on a dusty stand. He couldn't care less, as he looked through the dark at the lovely figure squinting over at him.

"Clarie?" he said in disbelief.

The girl's eyes widened with recognition at the sound of his voice. "Monsieur Erik?" she said. "Forgive me. I guess I startled you."

"The fault is mine," Erik admitted, "I was too lost in fantasies to hear anyone come in, I suppose."

Clarie frowned, sitting down once again on the antique chair. It was only a frown, but it disturbed Erik. Why was she so visibly upset?

As if reading his thoughts, Clarie self-consciously brushed the hair from her face and said, "I suppose you are wondering about my foul mood, then?"

"What bothers you?" Erik asked sincerely. Clarie waved him off.

"You wouldn't understand," she muttered bitterly, "no one would. You would think me mad."

"You'd be surprised." Clarie looked unconvinced, so Erik quickly added, "it isn't good to bottle up your emotions." He was surprised at how confident he was becoming with this girl. Not only here, but as the angel.

As long as she can't see my face.

Clarie laughed a humorless laugh. "Alright," she said, "but you've been warned."

Author's note:

I know, you're sick of hearing from me. I'm sorry, I know you guys deserve a longer chapter after having to wait patiently for it, but it is getting late and I really wanted to post tonight. I promise I will try my best to update asap! I know what is going to happen so I just need to type it out. Things should begin to speed up soon.

Review!