I still don't own anything.

(Thanks everyone...and Jasu and Emmie-who helped correct my French. I'm just now learning!)

Alright, this chapter-I hope-will make you think. It might make you cry. It might make you happy. It might break your heart-make you angry. This chapter is full of feeling and torture and desire. Like I said, my dear Phantom friends will be saddened (that if you felt for Erik the same way I did.) Finally we have come to the point of no return.

Point of No Return

Past the point of no return...

The final threshold

What warm unspoken secrets will we learn?

Beyond the point of no return

Dressed in her white wedding gown, Lillian walked towards the large golden stairs where, right before them, stood her beloved and the Priest. Hilliard looked so handsome standing there-his blue eyes dancing with excitement as his hands fell tirelessly at his sides.

He wore a pair of white pants and a white jacket, with his medals and ribbons resting upon it. Lillian gasped, thinking she had never seen anything so handsome. Oh, how she wished to savor this moment. This was what she would always remember and always adore; her wedding.

But could something so wonderful turn into a tragic event so quickly? Could something Lillian had been looking forward to all her life all of a sudden be ruined by something she also secretly wished would happen?

The scene was so odd. Something Lillian really never expected to happen. And then it did-and caught everyone in the castle by surprise. There stood James-at the top of the stair. His intense hazel eyes glared feverously down at the unsuspecting bystanders; whom, at the same time, looked horrified and curious.

How silly this looked. James, clad in black and red and her beloved Hilliard there in white and blue. They seemed even more like polar opposites then Lillian had imagined. Oh, the horror that had bestowed upon him with that action!

And what was that? A grin upon his tanned face! A pallor look rushed upon the young Princess's face. In her hands she gripped her bouquet; her knuckles turning white.

He pulled from his side a sword in which he played with the silver deadly blade. His hands, as usual, were covered by leather black gloves and upon his face he wore a little black mask that covered his upper face. After all, he wasn't dumb enough to risk the safety of his people by showing his face to the whole lot of royals.

"It's him..." she whispered, dropping her flowers. Her father turned and looked at the man with slight confusion.

"I say! What is going on here?" King Evans cried. "Boy-who are you?" The smirk on the mysterious, uninvited guest only widened.

"I'm hurt Monsieur!" he said with a false amount of pain. The Queen stared at him and then at her daughter and then back at the masked man.

Hilliard stared at Lillian as if asking her what she wanted him to do. Lillian stared back at him, her eyes telling him that she was just as shocked as he. Oh, but was she? Feelings tumbled and turned along with her weak stomach and that hurling feeling, like that of rising to an astounding level and then suddenly dropping filled her. Her head grew light and dizzy-and she only could stare up at James as the other guests and family did.

'Oh, what horror, horror, horror!' her mind cried. Then he began to move again. His movements were slow yet demanding, and he carefully approached Lillian. Everyone's eyes turned to the Princess and then back to James and onto the Princess once again. What a ping pong game they were making of the moment.

Lillian felt a chill run up her spine as he grew nearer. Her mind cried to her-telling her to run, but her feet, seemingly arrested to the floor, would not budge.

He was breathing heavily and Lillian looked up into his face-she faced him. How things would have been so much easier if she hadn't! How things would have been so much simpler if she had never looked up and stared into those sad eyes.

"Lily..." His voice fell from his lips, so soft and so needy. Lillian could have crumpled then and there-but memories stopped her imminently. She couldn't let him do this to her. She could not be some puppet! He had turned her away twice. Two times she had announced her love for him-in words that only one in love could express-and both times, he denied her. Pain ravaged through her.

"What do you want?" she asked, trying to sound courageous, but her voice still shaking. James looked at her with a sad smile.

"You were right all along. I wouldn't accept the fact that I was loved. I know, I'm so stupid." Lillian gulped. He was admitting he was wrong and apologizing.

"You...were right about how I needed you." He added. The entire room seemed to gasp, even sneaky and very easy Jezebel seemed a little surprised by the whole moment.

'He does need you! Don't you see? This is what you've always wanted!' But her mind argued back with itself.

'Don't you dare fall into his silly little trap! He was so cruel to you! He said he didn't need you. Thus far, he's ruined every thing for you. First your complete loyalty to Hilliard and now the perfect marriage that he helped provoke!'

But by the way James was looking at her; Lillian was unsure which voice to listen to. Part of her wanted to run into his arms, those strong arms that she had dreamed of holding her-they were wide open! And yet, another part of her, the part of you filled with pride, denied her this. No-she shouldn't submit to him. She would loose nothing if she did so. And he needed to know how it felt. He needed to know how it felt to love someone and have them not love you back.

'He does know-do you not remember what Remus said? He has suffered under much more loneliness then you will or ever have! He's been hurt more then you have and much worse too. Don't try to kid yourself into thinking he has it all set for him.'

Oh, what an enemy her own mind could be! And James, who looked down at her, with sad love plastered over his hidden features. This was it-this was the moment. She had to make her choice. Did she follow her soul-which seemed engaged to the poor boy who stood before her, or did she do what was expected of her and what she had always wanted?

'Either way, you end up hurting someone!' Lillian looked past James to Hilliard, who stared at her with confused eyes and an almost betrayed look. She couldn't take it. She couldn't have innocent, poor little Hilliard look at her like that. He loved her and was not to afraid or to stuck on his own pride to admit it!

"I'll never forgive you for breaking my heart, James. My answer to you is no. Not ever." she said. She watched as he seemed to shrink with rejection.

"Lily, but-"

"James, you should not have come. It's all over-you told me it was over! We can not-you were right. It's too wrong and too dangerous. Hilliard and I belong together. I love him.'' His eyes widened in grief.

"Please, don't say that."

"It's the truth! He loves me as I love him. Oh, James, are you asking for your own death?"

"Maybe...'' he muttered. Lillian's eyes widened this time

"Do not say that." she whispered. His eyes bored into hers, but they were not full of hate and resentment as the always had.

"You told me you didn't need me. You told me you didn't love me." Her voice grew progressively softer as she became aware of her surroundings. Everyone was still staring at them-her parents looking shocked. Her sister looking bewildered. Her friends and outer family looking at her as if trailing her movements. Everyone was eager to see what she would do next. And then there was Hilliard-who looked at her with the eyes of and abandoned puppy.

'Oh, my love. I am doing all that I can to protect our relationship. But does that mean I must torture this soul who has been tortured enough?'

Poor Hilliard? What about poor James? For there he stood, the man that finally got over his silly pride and risked his life to come, stood before her and accepted her love. He needed it-she could tell. But no-she wasn't the one to give it. She could never understand why she felt like she had betrayed him. She had only done what he had to her, and right then and there she felt some truth in her words. She did love Hilliard. They did belong together.

Then Lillian looked into James' eyes again. The second biggest mistake in her life-for once again, she saw nothing but pain, loneliness and need. Those adorable and yet tortured hazel eyes ripped into her soul, and the memory of a lonely child entered her mind. Would he cry now? Weeping was not something Lillian could imagine James doing, but right now, he had already surprised her with compassion.

'Oh, if you had only said these words to me before now. I never meant to hurt you.'

"Lillian-my daughter. I demand to know what on God's green Earth is going on!" Lillian turned to her father with wet eyes. He stared incredulously down at her, his eyes daring her to lie to him.

"James, you must go. Go now while your life is still yours." she whispered so that only he could hear. He looked at her, with those painful eyes-those horrible eyes, and then, with what seemed much like a cry, he said:

"This life has never been mine." That was the final straw-her soul seemed to crumble with those pain coated words, but she had to regain herself. She could not risk the life of so many people.

"Please..." she croaked. James only looked at her-the worst kind of torture, Lillian felt. 'Suffering life, do not curse me so. I am only trying to do what is right! Please bring no bad.'

"I let you go then...and I give you your freedom from me. But I shall never escape you..."

He seemed to also regain his structure, for he stood up straight and stared into her blurring eyes with his eyes. Those eyes so dead in that face that seemed dead on that body that seemed dead. His coat of red and black hung from his body like that of a bloody man. Red death, stalking through the castle, spreading his evil to anyone who was foolish enough to question him.

Tell me then, how was it that Lillian turned from him that night? How could one who-claimed to love another at a moment, watch as they turned around in pain-dead almost? Could she live with herself like that? Was the pain not unbearable? Oh, how unbearable it was though!

As the creature stalking as the 'red death' walked away from the scene, Lillian chose it better not to watch. He walked away. Walked away from her and his only chance to love. His words-those last few words struck her as his others had-piercing her soul like a dagger into a feather soft pillow, deranging her ever being by those terrible moves.

Oh, it was all ruined! The perfect marriage and all-Lillian knew nothing would ever be the same again.

Deep in the crevices of his own hell, James felt his world-that silly world that had slowly begun to grow since he first laid eyes on Princess Lillian Evans-he felt that world crumble into oblivion. He loved her-he really did.

He let out a tired laugh. He ought to have expected this. She wasn't in her right mind when she told him that she loved him. They didn't know each other. They were perfect strangers. How puerile could he have been to think that 'love' was really what he and Lily shared?

James' sickably happy expression faded into a slightly depressed and hurt one, his facade had fallen-the porcelain mask which devoured and hid his identity had broken. And he was alone-he always was alone when he tried to love.

She wouldn't know. Lily wouldn't understand why he was the way he was. Dear girl, her skills of seeing people as they were meant to be seen had lost its power over him. She had no idea how life had treated him. Sitting alone in his tormented darkness, he allowed thoughts to flow into his mind. Thoughts he had reasonably cast aside rushed back in, like a raging river.

His parents had died when he was little-tortured by King Morecom for his nasty lust for suffrage. He may not have seemed a bit the malicious, murderous type-but, alas he was. James's mother, who was beautiful in both appearance and brain, was raped and then sliced. Her husband had found her mortal remains-bones and oh, so little flesh-lying beside him in his little jail cell when he had woken. The horror he must have felt! He was then beaten, slaved and forced to do as told. Soon he too was murdered, leaving their son with no living relatives and utterly alone.

James lived on the streets alone for almost three more years. In those years, he had learned nothing but hate and resentment-and how the world existed only in its own evil light. After awhile, he was taken in by the Al Bhed. The leader at the time saw great potential in the little orphan who had taught himself precise fighting skills and safe and simple survival guides.

And thus, that was what his life was like from there on. After the leader died, he passed the power down onto James. It wasn't until he was eleven that he learned of his parent's relation to the Al Bhed and Francesca's family. They also had been rebellions-and were childhood friends. But James cast those thoughts aside; he knew nothing could ever bring his family back-even if he killed the man who killed them. But, revenge had always been sweet and he was sure this would be too.

The excitement of this idea rushed through him; rushed through his blood-and a grin formed on his handsome face. The look of pain and torture only poked through when his mind seemed to draw back onto those horrid memories. But, lucky for him, his eagerness for revenge was strong and deep enough to focus on, once again casting away the shadows of the past.

His eyes, willing and needy, seemed to-once again-mask the pain he just endured. James blinked and shook his head, knowing what lied beneath his murderous thoughts. He was still recovering from what Lily had said to him. How she had denied him-just as he denied her. He didn't think she would instantly agree with him, but he also didn't know it would hurt so much.

This is why it was best you kept to yourself. This is why you were alone. He frowned and placed his hands behind his head as he leaned back onto the stone wall. The alley was dark and cold; the exact way he felt-only the alley was much happier. But it was the only place he felt he could run to; everywhere else seemed too crowded, too loud.

He allowed his mind to contradict and lecture him. Its words seemed true and understandable, but with each one he felt himself being pulled further and further down in his pits of loneliness and anger. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that some pretty boy who had everything handed to him on a silver platter got the girl he was in love with-yes, love! There was no denying it now. It wasn't fair that Lily had tried so hard to have him and then gave up just when he finally got over himself to admit it. It wasn't fair that he was all alone. It wasn't fair that he had been given the opportune moment and was too blind at the time to even take heed of it.

The alley only seemed to get darker and colder and James suddenly found himself wishing he had someone with him. Being alone wasn't all that bad-but having someone with you in some situations seemed to better them. The calm and lightened moments he had found in his seventeen years of loneliness were finally beginning to beg for company.

His eyes, which had closed automatically, then opened. They flashed with an anger he had so long since forgotten. No-he didn't want to feel this way anymore. He rushed away-anywhere, not knowing the direction he was going in. He just needed to get away. Away from the people he had condemned to life on the run. Away from the life he had condemned himself into. Away from the girl he had broken down in front of.

Suddenly, he stopped and gasped in his raspy voice. Now James was still pretty much sane, but when anger pummels through you as it did he, the lake that sat before him began to look mighty friendly. The lake, which forced him to open his eyes wide with desire and wonder, seemed to beckon him. Oh, how he wished he could lie at its watery bottom. How he wished it could end all his eternal pain and suffering by swallowing him whole.

It hurt and he didn't like it. He didn't like this feeling and he wanted it to go away. He stepped up to the water's edge and bent over so his fingers could run over its glossy surface.

Cold-the water seemed almost freezing despite the warmth of the night time. Was he crazy enough? Had he lost his mind to the pain? He didn't know. His head was so full and yet empty. He raised his hands to his face and felt wetness.

Tears.

"No!" he growled as he slammed his hands back down to his waist. He wouldn't cry-no! He refused to. Feeling sad was weak enough, he wouldn't allow himself to sink low enough to cry about not getting his way. James stopped crying the day he killed his first enemy. He found no reason to cry again. Crying only was a surrenderment of your feelings.

He wiped his moistened eyes and ceased the tears. He had to be strong for himself before he lost complete control. Turning from the water, James finally made his way home. Where he belonged.

Lillian stood there in the middle of the aisle shaking as the mutterings around her grew. Everyone was in a state of slight panic, their ignorance growing with every second.

Her father cried out in rage, "What is the meaning of this, Lillian?"

Tears began forming in her emerald eyes; tears of love and passion, confusion and hate, desire and destiny. Her heart and soul battled within her; she wanted to run after James, to be with him; and yet she also wanted to pick up her flowers and walk to Hilliard, the man she loved and had once thought to spend the rest of her life with.

"Lillian?" Sounded Hilliard. He sounded lost; as lost as she felt right now. Without a word, she turned and ran from the room, tears of shame and confusion littering her cheeks, as the the mutterings behind her turned to gasps.

Hours later, Lillian wiped the tears from her emerald green eyes and sighed. Her mother stood behind her and brushed her shoulder length red hair, smoothing the ripple of the braids. Her room was dark; the only light was a lit candle on her dressing table in which she sat before, looking at her sobbing image in the mirror.

"My darling, you must tell me what happened in there tonight. Who was that man-what does he have to do with you?" her mother asked softly, but firmly. Lillian bit her lip. She knew that voice. It was how her mother spoke when she had no other choice but to answer. This was going to be difficult.

How could she tell her mother? She didn't want to lie-but she was afraid of what the truth might bring.

"He is…a man I met on my journeys outside of the castle. Mother…, how can I tell you this? How can I explain?"

The Queen looked down at her and sighed. Her eyes showed no anger, but understanding. Lillian had always been grateful that she had been blessed with a mother who understood her feelings and actions. Now even more.

"You love him, don't you, Lillian? I saw it in your eyes as you spoke to him. Tell me then: Why did you deny him? If you do love him, you would spite the world and the rules. You would love him no matter what."

Lillian looked up at her mother surprised. Where had that come from? Somehow, there seemed to be a secret lying beneath those words. Her mother's eyes were full of some mystery and somewhere in them she saw a light of irritation.

"I…I don't know. I don't know if I love him. I don't know how I feel. I don't understand what's wrong with me. I thought I knew how I felt but you don't know how we acted towards each other, mother! I went to him, declaring my own feelings and he turned me down. He turned me down both times I denounced my love for him. And now…he needs me? Mother, I don't know how to take it. I figured our love was just some misunderstanding and that we were to go back to our own lives. Hilliard loves me, I know he does. But with James, you never know!"

"Oh, so is James his name? No relation to the infamous thief, my dear?" Lillian flushed and gulped. She hoped she could get away with not telling her his name-she wouldn't be lying about what had happened then and she wouldn't have gotten in too deep. But now…she had come to a dead end.

"M-mother…Don't hate me. Don't wrong me because of what happened. And please, don't hurt him. He deserves that naught."

Her mother looked at her a little shocked. Her daughter was in love with a man who had no shame in murdering? But then recollection hit her. You couldn't control who it was you would fall in love with. She'd giver her daughter that. But what angered her, or better yet, irritated her, was that her daughter seemed too scared to declare her love freely. After what she had said though, the Queen began to understand a little more.

"You need your rest, Lillian. Go to sleep and speak of this to no one. You might think better after a night's sleep. Good night, my daughter." She said in a soft voice. Lillian looked up at her with her eyes wide.

"Mother, I-"

"I know. I know. Don't worry. We will see what lies beyond this point. Maybe, if we are blessed, more good will be set before us."

And without another word she kissed her daughter's forehead and left the room. Lillian's breath was rapid and raspy with shock, anxiety and fear. She was left alone in her room to think about her actions. Oh, how she wished this might all have been a dream. But it wasn't.

She quietly blew out her candle and moved from her chair to her bed. As she pulled the covers back she looked behind her.

It was all in the past. All of it was. And tomorrow she would not be Lily or anything to James Potter. She'd go back to her normal life. Where she belonged.

The End.

(No…I'm just kidding)

Okay, I know this chapter wasn't all that good. But I wanted it to be. I mean, it made me cry. And I don't cry that easily. Was it too cheesy? Did it make any sense? I told you it was going to be like Phantom, though I have barely even started on James' suffering. There will be more pain, more hate and-of course- more desire.

What is to come for the two now? I mean, Lily and James have both denied each other to each others faces. Lily's mother knows who her daughter is in love with-one of the most wanted men in the entire country. But she sounds pretty cool about it. And what about poor James? Hasn't he suffered enough? (No…) His poor parents! Where does he turn now? He chose a life with out love and when he finally accepts it, it turns its back on him. He has nothing left. He's felt every emotion. Hate and love above all. Will this be the end of this tangled, heart wrenching love story?