I love these characters and you do to if you are reading this. I hope to do them justice. Thank you for reading this piece. It was going to be a few chapters and Christine and Erik asked for more time. Wishing you all the best.

Happily Ever After?

Ch 1: Only Erik

"An eternity of this before your eyes."

I gazed at his features that had caused him such anguish. I did not hate him, I should hate him for choosing me, for the lies, for the death and destruction. It wasn't his face that scared me that made me fear him, it was his twisted view of the world. He was no longer the Angel of Music or the friend I had known.

"Erik," I reached out to him, wanting to sooth him. He shied from my touch, his eyes widening, as he took a step back. "I only wanted to touch your face." My hand remained outstretched in the void.

"I think you have touched my face enough today my dear," he said in response.

My thoughts flashed to the performance, his proposal, the men with guns trained on him.

Erik paced about, his left hand fidgeting. What would he do next? Tears had begun to trickle down my face. I was so tired of trying to figure him out, of running, fearing him, and yet fearful for him. I had never liked Raoul's plan. It would have been better to run away. And yet I had been the bait for him. The lights had burned bright while I struggled to continue the charade on stage. I knew my maestro's voice. I would always know his voice. Then as he sang to me, for surely those words were for me, I felt his pull and the stirrings of something and no matter what happened I couldn't let him die. How could I change the plan? How could restage this for his benefit? Erik's hands were in mine and we were moving together as one, his back to mine and I leaned over him. I had to do something. I ran to the side and he pursued me, catching me before I could lead him off stage, out of the line of fire. Out of desperation I removed his hood. His next words had surprised me as the last thing I had considered was a proposal. I could see the men advancing. He was so focused on his passionate proposal he didn't seem to see them. Erik, can you not see the men coming, now is not the time to profess your love for me for surely they will kill you. What is your plan? You always have a plan. What if he didn't have a plan. What if he only wanted to be with me and he didn't care if he died in the process? If Erik was dead you would not fear him. No, I would never wish him or anyone else ill. I had been foolish to support Raoul in this matter. Erik cannot die. The world would not be right if he died. My world would not be right if he died.

"Why did you remove my mask Christine, why?" his words pulled me to the present. His form was truly distorted now as I gazed at him through tear filled eyes.

"I didn't want you to die." I struggled to pull myself together.

"You didn't want me to die?" he asked, the disbelief so clear in his tone.

"I didn't know what else to do. They had orders to shoot you."

"Yes your precious Vicomte, would see me dead. Well it seems my dear you have chosen me tonight."

I looked at him confused. I didn't want him dead but I also had no wish to be his bride. "Erik, I cannot marry you."

"You have not left with the Vicomte and you are here with me." he said as his fingers fiddled with the veil.

I stopped his arm with mine. "I am not a prize to be fought over. I have dreams."

He stepped back and his tone became harsh. "So you did not dream of this face, I am not your prince charming?" He said waving his hand with a flourish. "Have I not swept you off your feet. Are we not to live happily ever after now. You are my living bride."

"No" and "never" were foreign words to him. I had always said yes to him, because he had seemed like my Prince of Music, my Angel of Music. I sank to the ground with tears streaming down my face, my fears of the evening, the last year having pushed me to my limits. I wanted to be a girl at my father's knee again but I was no longer that child. Erik was not my Angel of Music.

I felt his presence as he gently touched my arm as if unsure of what to do with me. Then he surprised me yet again, "What do you want, Christine?"

What did I want? I was upset with Raoul but that wasn't a reason to choose Erik over him. And Erik must be playing a game with me to offer me a choice, an illusion of free will. I didn't think he would let me go. I spoke up, "A bath and to go to bed. I am so tired Erik. Surely you are tired too," He looked at me surprised at my words. I pressed on, "Can we resume this discussion in the morning?" When was the last time you slept?"

"I don't remember," he spoke words as his eyes stared into the darkness.

I reached across the divide, my fingertips coming to rest on his arm and I felt his muscle twitch in response and then calm beneath my touch. He looked down at me. His features had lost their anger and were replaced with wonder as he stared at my hand's new resting place. I couldn't recall the last time I had touched him of my own free will without a script. Peros, but then that had ended badly. I don't think I had slept well in any of the days that followed. My rejection had put us at war. I would awaken to dreams of his angry voice in my head. I didn't want to fight with him or with sweet Raoul. Oh Raoul why didn't we fly that night, why could we not just leave Erik alone. Alone. I felt so alone with Erik beside me. I felt so twisted by these men. What did I want? And did I have a choice?

"Rest, may we rest Erik?" His eyes rose to meet mine. I needed him to be more rational. How did I ensure that he slept and didn't stay up the entire night as I feared he would? "Erik, are you afraid that I shall leave?" His face still held a look of confusion, my words having broken through his descent into madness. His eyes searched, looking for signs of duplicity, then he nodded slightly. I couldn't believe I was going to offer this.

I hesitated, what did I have to lose? He had always behaved as a gentleman before. That was the crux, he had been so different before...before, the death and the destruction. I curled my fingers in his sleeve, the black formal fabric scrunching up as I felt his thin arm, his bone seemed more prominent. Had he thinned even more.

"Erik, you...would not force me?" I asked, my grip forcing the fabric to bunch more the weave rough beneath my finger tips.

He pulled abruptly from me as if burned by the thought, "No I am not that monster, Christine," he growled out angrily.

He paced, his nervous tick, the fingers of his left hand, fidgeting at his sides. "I can control my baser needs, you need not fear me Christine." Then he ceased pacing to stand a few feet away from me. He reached, extending his long fingers toward me, palm up and in that coaxing, soothing voice "Come Christine, do not fear your Angel."

I felt my heart slow as a calmness settled on me as his voice rolled through me.

"Then sleep with me in the Louis Philippe room" I plowed on, not sure how long this newfound courage would last. "You have said you are a light sleeper so you would know if I broke my promise to stay."

"To sleep with my Christine," he said, his voice caressing me, so full of hope.

"Only to sleep, Erik."

Yes, Christine, Erik understands."

This is madness I thought.

xxx

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