A/N: Thank you to the reviewer who pointed out that Erik's deformity is on the right side of his face not the left. I even have pictures of his face! Smacks forehead I cannot believe I got that important detail wrong! I need to take a nap! I fixed it so it now reads "Right side of his face." For those of you who guessed the mystery guest right give yourself a pat on the back, for those of you who guessed wrong, expect a Punjab Lasso (compliments of Blue Beauty) to be delivered to your house in the next fifteen minutes...lol (just kidding). Thanks for the reviews...R&R as usual....
Erik watched from behind the mirror as the door to Christine's dressing room opened wide, and a young man barely the respectable age of twenty-five strode in calmly. Christine looked up surprised to see a man, she had originally been thinking it was either a maid or Meg. The man was tall, and broad shouldered. His light brown hair was stylishly long and slightly curly. His gentle blue eyes were warm. The smile he was giving her right now was equally as warm as his eyes. His jaw was square and handsomely firm. Erik looked on as Christine visually took the man's appearance in. His clothing looked expensive. He was dressed in a dark brown that made him seem even finer. His complexion was quite light as if he hadn't been out in the sun very much or if he had he always took to the shade or wore a gentleman's hat. He was holding a single blood-red rose.
"Bonjour Mademoiselle Daae," He said rather breathlessly to her. It was as if he had been holding his breath for a long time. He looked rather anxious to be done with the introductions. He held the rose out to her, and she grasped it gently careful not to touch a thorn with her soft fingers. "I have come to bring you back your scarf," He said smiling handsomely.
"Oh!" Christine said in a rather shocked tone. "My scarf! You were all wet! I remember it well now!" Her favorite scarf had flown from her when her and her papa had been visiting the ocean. It had been caught by a wisp of air, and dropped into the sea. A boy only a few years older than she had rushed out into the ocean much to the dismay of his nanny and captured the wet piece of silk back. He looked quite a sight, dripping from head to toe holding a limp scarf.
"The sea does make one cold," He laughed warmly. She motioned for him to sit across from her in a comfortably cushioned chair. He sat and gazed at her. Something akin to jealousy once again moved in the Phantom's heart. He tried to unclench his fists. That rogue!
"I still have that scarf, Raoul,"
"I thought you would. It was a lovely scarf. It complimented your eyes quite nicely," His comment made her blush. She smiled softly. "I see no one has forgotten your performance last night,"
"I suppose not," She said shyly.
"It was absolutely beautiful," Raoul said. The blush on Christine's cheeks did not diminish, it only deepened more into a lovely pink hue.
"I did not know you attended," She smiled softly.
"I attend as many as I can. The opera is not something that I miss usually if I can not help it," He looked at her tenderly. "I watch for you each performance. You dance quite splendidly,"
"Oh Raoul," She shook her head. "If it wasn't for my luck in winning the role I played last night I most surely would have been fired from the chorus group, for my "splendid" dancing,"
"I noticed no bad form," He said sweetly. "Besides I wasn't watching your feet...I was watching your face,"
"You are to kind," She said her voice barely louder than a whisper.
"I have missed you though, Christine," Raoul said plainly. "I have not been to see you, because...well...because I was working up my nerve," His eyes traveled over her face. He searched for the right words. "How does one approach such... an angel?"
"You hardly know me, my dear Raoul," Christine replied obviously flustered at such a confession. She could not hold his gaze, but instead she shyly stared down at her lap.
"All one has to do is listen to you sing, or gaze at your beauty," Raoul reached out and touched Christine's hand softly. Her smile broadened. Erik wanted to cut the man's throat. Beauty or voice wasn't the only thing that someone should look for. He could find those things that in a beautifully crafted music box. Christine had beauty and a lovely voice yes, but she had more than that. She had grace, kindness, and a gentle spirit. He could think on about her sweet characteristics, but he did not want to miss her reply.
"It is not until this moment that I have realized how much I missed you Raoul," She gently curled her fingers around his.
"I'm glad you finally know it," Raoul smiled.
"Do you remember all the stories papa told us?" Christine asked him eagerly. She gently took her hand from his and settled it back in her lap.
"I will never forget them...Little Lotte," Raoul grinned. Christine closed her eyes in happiness. "Let your mind wander," He said mysteriously. She laughed.
"He used to scare us out of our heads with those stories of his," She smiled.
"Ah yes, the dark stories of the north,"
"I could never sleep but a few hours in the morning after the nights when he told them. I was afraid I would have nightmares,"
"I used to dream of his violin," Raoul admitted. "It calmed my nightmares,"
"He was rather good,"
"That's true," Raoul nodded. Erik listened intently from behind the mirror. Her father sounded intriguing.
"He played so smoothly he used to put me to sleep with only a few notes of a lullaby at night when I was a child," She whispered her voice sounding very hoarse. She sounded as if she was going to weep. "When he grew melancholy he would play the Resurrection of Lazarus. Whenever he did play that piece I knew he was thinking of my mother for he once told me long ago that he used to play it for her before she died," A tear threatened to slip down her cheek. Raoul gazed at her compassionately.
"I will never forget that," He smiled softly. "Your father was a good man, Christine. His memory will live on in our hearts,"
"If only he had lived on to see this. To know his daughter wasn't destined to be miserable and sell flowers on the corner streets of Paris,"
"You're a Prima Donna now, you'll be well paid,"
"It's not the money Raoul," Christine replied hesitantly. "My papa was worried that I wouldn't be happy,"
"You're happy now?"
"I think I'm beginning to be," She smiled shyly. His blue eyes twinkled with a repressed grin.
"I'm sorry to leave you Christine, but I must go. My brother Philippe will wonder where I have gone to, and it is not seemly for a young lady to be seen alone with a gentleman in her dressing room for a long while," He smiled. She gave him gentle look.
"I very much appreciate your visit, Raoul," Christine stood, she opened the door for him and he stepped outside. He paused for a moment, gazing at her.
"It will be my pleasure to visit you again if you so desire it,"
"I desire it," She said softly. He dipped his head in a gentlemanly fashion and left. Erik said nothing when she closed the door. He watched her expression change from a polite smile to a look of bliss. She looked so very happy. He envied the Vicomte de Chagny. He possessed such charm and wit. He smiled darkly. Raoul would find that he wasn't the only one who hoped to win Christine's heart...
A/N: I know that some of you are chanting KILL THE FOP! right now. Unfortunately he must be introduced in this story or there would really be no tale. I have to be fair to the story and to stay as true as possible to the musical and the book I must write Raoul as the man that he is described in these. R&R...
Erik watched from behind the mirror as the door to Christine's dressing room opened wide, and a young man barely the respectable age of twenty-five strode in calmly. Christine looked up surprised to see a man, she had originally been thinking it was either a maid or Meg. The man was tall, and broad shouldered. His light brown hair was stylishly long and slightly curly. His gentle blue eyes were warm. The smile he was giving her right now was equally as warm as his eyes. His jaw was square and handsomely firm. Erik looked on as Christine visually took the man's appearance in. His clothing looked expensive. He was dressed in a dark brown that made him seem even finer. His complexion was quite light as if he hadn't been out in the sun very much or if he had he always took to the shade or wore a gentleman's hat. He was holding a single blood-red rose.
"Bonjour Mademoiselle Daae," He said rather breathlessly to her. It was as if he had been holding his breath for a long time. He looked rather anxious to be done with the introductions. He held the rose out to her, and she grasped it gently careful not to touch a thorn with her soft fingers. "I have come to bring you back your scarf," He said smiling handsomely.
"Oh!" Christine said in a rather shocked tone. "My scarf! You were all wet! I remember it well now!" Her favorite scarf had flown from her when her and her papa had been visiting the ocean. It had been caught by a wisp of air, and dropped into the sea. A boy only a few years older than she had rushed out into the ocean much to the dismay of his nanny and captured the wet piece of silk back. He looked quite a sight, dripping from head to toe holding a limp scarf.
"The sea does make one cold," He laughed warmly. She motioned for him to sit across from her in a comfortably cushioned chair. He sat and gazed at her. Something akin to jealousy once again moved in the Phantom's heart. He tried to unclench his fists. That rogue!
"I still have that scarf, Raoul,"
"I thought you would. It was a lovely scarf. It complimented your eyes quite nicely," His comment made her blush. She smiled softly. "I see no one has forgotten your performance last night,"
"I suppose not," She said shyly.
"It was absolutely beautiful," Raoul said. The blush on Christine's cheeks did not diminish, it only deepened more into a lovely pink hue.
"I did not know you attended," She smiled softly.
"I attend as many as I can. The opera is not something that I miss usually if I can not help it," He looked at her tenderly. "I watch for you each performance. You dance quite splendidly,"
"Oh Raoul," She shook her head. "If it wasn't for my luck in winning the role I played last night I most surely would have been fired from the chorus group, for my "splendid" dancing,"
"I noticed no bad form," He said sweetly. "Besides I wasn't watching your feet...I was watching your face,"
"You are to kind," She said her voice barely louder than a whisper.
"I have missed you though, Christine," Raoul said plainly. "I have not been to see you, because...well...because I was working up my nerve," His eyes traveled over her face. He searched for the right words. "How does one approach such... an angel?"
"You hardly know me, my dear Raoul," Christine replied obviously flustered at such a confession. She could not hold his gaze, but instead she shyly stared down at her lap.
"All one has to do is listen to you sing, or gaze at your beauty," Raoul reached out and touched Christine's hand softly. Her smile broadened. Erik wanted to cut the man's throat. Beauty or voice wasn't the only thing that someone should look for. He could find those things that in a beautifully crafted music box. Christine had beauty and a lovely voice yes, but she had more than that. She had grace, kindness, and a gentle spirit. He could think on about her sweet characteristics, but he did not want to miss her reply.
"It is not until this moment that I have realized how much I missed you Raoul," She gently curled her fingers around his.
"I'm glad you finally know it," Raoul smiled.
"Do you remember all the stories papa told us?" Christine asked him eagerly. She gently took her hand from his and settled it back in her lap.
"I will never forget them...Little Lotte," Raoul grinned. Christine closed her eyes in happiness. "Let your mind wander," He said mysteriously. She laughed.
"He used to scare us out of our heads with those stories of his," She smiled.
"Ah yes, the dark stories of the north,"
"I could never sleep but a few hours in the morning after the nights when he told them. I was afraid I would have nightmares,"
"I used to dream of his violin," Raoul admitted. "It calmed my nightmares,"
"He was rather good,"
"That's true," Raoul nodded. Erik listened intently from behind the mirror. Her father sounded intriguing.
"He played so smoothly he used to put me to sleep with only a few notes of a lullaby at night when I was a child," She whispered her voice sounding very hoarse. She sounded as if she was going to weep. "When he grew melancholy he would play the Resurrection of Lazarus. Whenever he did play that piece I knew he was thinking of my mother for he once told me long ago that he used to play it for her before she died," A tear threatened to slip down her cheek. Raoul gazed at her compassionately.
"I will never forget that," He smiled softly. "Your father was a good man, Christine. His memory will live on in our hearts,"
"If only he had lived on to see this. To know his daughter wasn't destined to be miserable and sell flowers on the corner streets of Paris,"
"You're a Prima Donna now, you'll be well paid,"
"It's not the money Raoul," Christine replied hesitantly. "My papa was worried that I wouldn't be happy,"
"You're happy now?"
"I think I'm beginning to be," She smiled shyly. His blue eyes twinkled with a repressed grin.
"I'm sorry to leave you Christine, but I must go. My brother Philippe will wonder where I have gone to, and it is not seemly for a young lady to be seen alone with a gentleman in her dressing room for a long while," He smiled. She gave him gentle look.
"I very much appreciate your visit, Raoul," Christine stood, she opened the door for him and he stepped outside. He paused for a moment, gazing at her.
"It will be my pleasure to visit you again if you so desire it,"
"I desire it," She said softly. He dipped his head in a gentlemanly fashion and left. Erik said nothing when she closed the door. He watched her expression change from a polite smile to a look of bliss. She looked so very happy. He envied the Vicomte de Chagny. He possessed such charm and wit. He smiled darkly. Raoul would find that he wasn't the only one who hoped to win Christine's heart...
A/N: I know that some of you are chanting KILL THE FOP! right now. Unfortunately he must be introduced in this story or there would really be no tale. I have to be fair to the story and to stay as true as possible to the musical and the book I must write Raoul as the man that he is described in these. R&R...