I do not own The Phantom of the Opera.
Spending my days with Erik was effortless. I would wake in the morning to his smiling face and a warm meal. At breakfast, I would try my hardest to make him laugh, a sound I grew to crave. After the sun had risen, we would make our way to the surface, Erik leading the way and showing me the secrets of the Opera Populaire. He showed me rooms I had never seen, views I had never imagined, and so many trap-doors that my head was spinning with all the new passageways I was trying to memorize. Whenever I thought that there could not possibly be another, Erik would pull me toward yet another hall or stairwell. I watched as his eyes darted everywhere, taking in the beauty of his hidden world. I smiled all the while, truly fascinated, and wondered how many people had seen these things. Was he the first? Even more curious, was I the second?
On one of these days, we stopped far in the attic of the opera house. Erik had packed us a lunch, and we sat and talked and ate in the comfort of the rafters. When we were finished, we lay down on our backs and watched the sunlight stream through the cracks in the roof. I sighed, wishing that I could be in it again, walking through the grass and feeling the wind. Erik must have heard me, because he brought himself up on one elbow and stared down at me. His brows were furrowed, and I could clearly see the worry etched onto his exposed face.
"I know this isn't your ideal picnic," he said, giving me a crooked smile, "but this is the best I can do for now."
I laughed and brushed a few fingers through his hair. "I know," I sighed. "But will we ever be able to have anything different? Will we ever be able to go out there?"
Erik rested himself on his back and laced his fingers with mine. "I don't know. But I will try. I refuse to trap you in the dark forever. You don't deserve that."
"I don't mind!" I cried, a little too loudly. Catching this, we both laughed. I closed my eyes, trying to capture the moment. "I mean, I'm happy here. I'm happier here than anywhere else."
That was pure truth. The only place I could imagine that I would enjoy more would be in the house of my childhood with my father. Still, I knew that it would not be the same without him there, alive and well. Now, it was nothing more than a memory, the house nothing more than an empty shell that I refused to revisit.
"You might be content here for now," Erik said, "but that won't last forever."
Now, I turned to him, gazing down as his eyes wandered over the ceiling. "Why would you think that?" I asked, slightly hurt.
Erik met my gaze, his eyes full of feeling. He smiled, barely, and sat upright. It looked like it pained him, for he rubbed his back and winced. Turning to me, he took both of my hands. "You were happy with Raoul. I know that has changed, and I know you would not be happy with him now after what he has done. Still, you were happy with him at one time, and I fear you will miss that." Before I could interrupt, he added, "Christine, I can't take you out on Sundays. I can't take you to parties or walk with you through the park in the spring. I will never be able to give you that."
"I don't want that anymore!" I cried. "Erik, I want to be here with you. Besides, I could never have that life even if you could give it to me. I couldn't even walk down the street without being stared at." I reached up and caressed the scarred side of his face. "We're trapped here together."
With a sigh, Erik pulled a white sheet of paper from his coat. Its seal had not yet been broken. He handed it to me, and I gave him a confused look. "It's for me," he sighed, "from the Vicomte."
I gasped, looking over the paper. The seal was Raoul's, and I recognized the handwriting in which "The Opera Ghost" was written. "Why haven't you read it?" I asked.
"I only received it today," Erik explained, "and I wanted you to read it first. I am sure he does not write on my behalf."
Reluctantly, I broke the seal and scanned over the letter. It wasn't long, as if written hurriedly and frantically. It read:
To the Opera Ghost,
I write to insist on the return of Miss Christine Daae Although you refuse to admit that you have kidnapped her, I am not fooled. Return Christine to me by tonight or I will be forced to recover her myself.
Vicomte De Chagny
I found another, smaller piece of paper neatly tucked with the letter. On it, in the same handwriting, was written:
Christine,
If, by some chance, you find this message before he does, I would like to let you know that I will find you. Soon, we will be done with this madman forever. Be strong, and do not worry. I am coming.
Raoul
"He's coming!" I gasped. I handed the letters to Erik, and, after he had read them, I asked, "What are we going to do? He'll bring reinforcements, and they already know the way to the canal!"
Erik stood, grabbed the few things that we had brought, and pulled me to my feet. We began making our way back, him talking all the while. "I have to set traps. When I've finished, it will take them days to reach the lake. We'll be long gone by then."
"Long gone?" I asked. "We can't just leave!"
"Of course we can!" Erik laughed. We were almost to the main floor now, and he pulled me close to him as we dropped through a trap door that I had never seen before. When we had safely landed, he said, "I know a few places we could go, maybe even over-seas."
"If we leave, he'll have even more reason to think I was kidnapped!" My words made Erik stop walking, and he turned to face me, his face twisted in confusion.
"What are you suggesting?" he asked quietly, but I could tell that he already knew the answer.
"I have to face him," I said, unsure of when or how the idea had come to me. "I have to see him and tell him that I don't love him anymore. That's the only way he'll leave us alone."
"It's too dangerous," Erik protested.
"I've survived enough danger to last a lifetime!" I choked. I knew it was cruel, but then I sang, "Twisted every way, what answer can I give? I must risk my life to win the chance to live."
"Christine," Erik groaned, but I ignored him.
Almost angry, I sang louder, "Do I have any choice? He'll kill without a thought. He'll murder all that's good! It pains me to refuse, and yet, I know I should. Oh God, if I agree, what horrors wait for me beyond the Phantom's Opera?"
Erik turned his face to the floor. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, and I could tell that he didn't agree with the idea. I wasn't sure if I did either. I knew that telling Raoul the truth would break my heart, but I also couldn't risk Erik's safety. He had done so much for my love, and I had not paid him back. He had broken his own heart a million times, trying and trying again to gain my acceptance. Raoul had simply walked into my life, and I had thrown myself into his arms.
How was I ever so foolish? I thought. I moved toward Erik, taking his hands in mine and pleading, "I have to end the engagement officially. It's the only way to save ourselves. He'll kill you, and that would kill me."
Tears filled both of our eyes. Erik was worried; it was written on his every feature. His eyes looked over my face, lingering on the left side and the damage there. I wondered what he would have done if I had died in the fire. Would he have come to the funeral? Or would he have been soon to follow me?
Erik leaned in and kissed my left cheek. I felt his tears slide over my skin, and I sighed, closing my eyes. As he pulled away, he said, "Alright. You will meet him here when he comes, and I will be there."
As we descended toward the lake, I heard Erik sing under his breath, "Seal my fate tonight."
Sorry this was so late! I hope you guys are still enjoying the story, and thanks for reading! Review please!