Disclaimer: The Phantom of the Opera is obviously not mine.
The Fate of the Heart
*christine*
She stared at the newspaper in her trembling hands. Still the whole truth had not sunk in. The bare fact that she had killed the man that she had once loved, and that once loved her as well. Once.... once upon a sweet time...
She pulled herself together, and stood with a firm resolve. She could see the questioning look in his eyes and knew what he was thinking.
"I am fine, Erik. Thank you. I am perfectly alright. I had been expecting it."
"But... you..." she saw him shake his head. If she refused to face the truth, she knew he would not bring it up. "I am glad, my dear. Now, I suppose you wish to..." she heard a waver in his hard voice, "wish to go back to your home now that it's over. You wouldn't want to stay here. Your life is waiting for you." He was rushing his words like he wanted her to leave as soon as possible. Her heart ached at this thought, and she wondered if it was true. Did he even want her here anymore? 'Of course not!' she scolded herself. 'Who would want me, after all this?' But she could not bear the thought of all the people above the tunnels. She finally knew why Erik hated them all; the minute her foot touched the pavement she would be judged and labeled an outcast from society. Only Erik could know how she felt. In spite of all they had been through, he would always be there at her side, loving her as his own child. 'Is that all you want him to love you as?' a voice in the back of her mind asked. She pushed it away, but knew it was right. She was beginning to love him, and now she knew that no matter how much he wanted her to, she couldn't go.
"I can't leave Erik." she said firmly. "I refuse to go back up to a world where they judge people on their looks and how much money they have. I refuse to live with a society that rejects people just because they are different. And I refuse to leave your side."
They were both silent and frozen for a long time after her outburst, but when she finally looked up, she saw the tears streaming down his face.
*erik*
He had almost ordered her out of his house, expecting her to be joyful at the excuse he had given her to leave. After all they had been through, he had come to expect nothing more than the feel of her dress on his fingertips as she swept out of his life once again.
And yet now at the time when he most expected her not to want to be with him, the one who had caused all this, she wanted to stay. Christine, his angel, wanted to stay (on her own will no less!) in his world of unending darkness. Unable to comprehend, he felt the tears he had held back before start to flow.
"How is this possible?" he asked himself, and the world which had been so cruel. She looked up, smiling at him. "It is possible, Erik. I want to stay here, with you. Where I know I'm safe from everything."
His head snapped up. "Safe?" He repeated dumbly. "Yes." She said confidently. "You protect me from everything, Erik. Before... I didn't want that. But now, I know you were doing the right thing. And I trust you. I want you to guard me still."
He felt his tears turn cold as he finally understood her feelings. She didn't love him and she did not want to stay out of passion. Protection- that's all she ever wanted from him. She only felt she had to stay because of her need for an angel; a surrogate father to protect her from the cruel reality of the world.
Dreams of them together crushed again, he said in a voice lined with despair, "Christine... I know you feel safe down here. But you cannot stay here forever. The world needs you, and your voice. I cannot keep you locked up down-"
"But you're not!" she cried. "It is my wish to stay with you. Don't send me away, please Erik!" Pleading, she ran to him, and took his hands in hers. They were so close; he felt his heart begin to pound. It was happening again. That night when he sent her away... all of it flashed in his mind. His mistake, the kiss that still tickled his lips... and her eyes before she disappeared for what he thought would be forever. He swore to himself on that night that is she had ever come back he would not make the same mistake twice.
But now he realized that it wasn't a mistake. It was a sacrifice.
*christine*
She saw the emotions run through his eyes, unable to follow their course. The only one she could truly see was his pain.
"You should leave, Christine. It is for your own good."
With those words, she watched her angel walk, defeated by his own conscience, into his room and locked the door.
She just asked him to let her stay, had not brought up the past or asked him to marry her! All she wanted was to stay with him, something she knew he had longed for since the first time he heard her sing. Yet now he wanted her to leave. Confused and hurt, she let her hands drop to her side and, not knowing what to do, went to her room to pack.
As she threw her few things into one bag, she wondered if he was asleep. She wondered if he even cared about her anymore. She ventured out of her room and knocked on his door. Receiving no answer, she decided that he wouldn't mind if she stayed one last night. Even if he did, she had nowhere to go. No one in Paris knew her, or thought enough to care. Erik was all she had. And now, not even he cared whether she lived or died.
She cried herself to sleep.
*erik*
He woke to the sound of an angel in his study.
Sitting up, he tried to shake the shackles of sleep off and focus on the sounds emanating from the other side of the door. He silently opened the door and stopped, unable to move from the sight that beheld his bloodshot eyes.
Christine stood, back to his room, holding a sheet of music in her hand. He stared at her; her hair was loose, her dress white and pure, her skin the shade of alabaster. Not only the voice of an angel, but the look of one as well; and to him she looked better than all the angels in heaven.
In the middle of his worshipful gaze, his mind finally connected the sounds coming from her wonderful lips. All of a sudden, his wonder and love turned into shock, which in turn formed into rage.
He unscrupulously snuck up behind her, and his anger was fueled when he saw what she was singing. "Why are you still here?" He hissed, and she jumped and spun around, the notes to his opera Dan Juan Triumphant scattering to the floor. "Oh!" She gasped, and then looked down. He ignored her guilty air and went on. "Can you not even respect my last wish for you? Is it impossible for you to do as I say just once? I tell you to leave, and yet where are you when I wake? Not in a warm bed up in Paris or in a friend's home laughing over how foolish you were. No, you are standing in front of my organ, singing the music that I wrote for..." 'For us', he thought, but did not say it. "Why, Christine? Why can't you just let me be in my miserable silence? I'd die so much easier if you just left."
"I had no place to spend the night," was her innocent response to his anger. She looked so frightened, her eyes round, staring at the man whose emotions were fiery and threatening. He could see she did not understand; still after all this time, she could never understand the deepness of his love for her. His anger melted away, and he felt guilt sweeping through him. To turn down this child from a bed was... No! She was not a child, he thought violently, and she did not need him. Certainly she did not want him. "Well it is morning now. You are free to leave." It came out as an order, and all of a sudden, he felt the heat of her eyes boring into him. "I will not leave. Not until you promise me something."
Struck by the firmness of her words, he took a slight step back and dared a look into her eyes. They were clear and bright; he knew he stood no chance against her will. He would do anything to make her happy once more.
"Anything, my dear." He whispered, and he meant it.
"Promise me... that I'll receive one more music lesson from my teacher."
-Okay, sorry to all that think Christine is smarter than I portrayed her here. It's not my fault; I swear it was the crayons!!! Tell me if you think I put too Much emphasis on her stupidity, or if you liked it, or just review because I told you to! Go! Go review now! Yes, take the mouse to that little button... There you go!! Good mindless slave... *cough* ahem! I mean good reader! (It's not me, it's those crayons!!! Especially the blue ones...)-
The Fate of the Heart
*christine*
She stared at the newspaper in her trembling hands. Still the whole truth had not sunk in. The bare fact that she had killed the man that she had once loved, and that once loved her as well. Once.... once upon a sweet time...
She pulled herself together, and stood with a firm resolve. She could see the questioning look in his eyes and knew what he was thinking.
"I am fine, Erik. Thank you. I am perfectly alright. I had been expecting it."
"But... you..." she saw him shake his head. If she refused to face the truth, she knew he would not bring it up. "I am glad, my dear. Now, I suppose you wish to..." she heard a waver in his hard voice, "wish to go back to your home now that it's over. You wouldn't want to stay here. Your life is waiting for you." He was rushing his words like he wanted her to leave as soon as possible. Her heart ached at this thought, and she wondered if it was true. Did he even want her here anymore? 'Of course not!' she scolded herself. 'Who would want me, after all this?' But she could not bear the thought of all the people above the tunnels. She finally knew why Erik hated them all; the minute her foot touched the pavement she would be judged and labeled an outcast from society. Only Erik could know how she felt. In spite of all they had been through, he would always be there at her side, loving her as his own child. 'Is that all you want him to love you as?' a voice in the back of her mind asked. She pushed it away, but knew it was right. She was beginning to love him, and now she knew that no matter how much he wanted her to, she couldn't go.
"I can't leave Erik." she said firmly. "I refuse to go back up to a world where they judge people on their looks and how much money they have. I refuse to live with a society that rejects people just because they are different. And I refuse to leave your side."
They were both silent and frozen for a long time after her outburst, but when she finally looked up, she saw the tears streaming down his face.
*erik*
He had almost ordered her out of his house, expecting her to be joyful at the excuse he had given her to leave. After all they had been through, he had come to expect nothing more than the feel of her dress on his fingertips as she swept out of his life once again.
And yet now at the time when he most expected her not to want to be with him, the one who had caused all this, she wanted to stay. Christine, his angel, wanted to stay (on her own will no less!) in his world of unending darkness. Unable to comprehend, he felt the tears he had held back before start to flow.
"How is this possible?" he asked himself, and the world which had been so cruel. She looked up, smiling at him. "It is possible, Erik. I want to stay here, with you. Where I know I'm safe from everything."
His head snapped up. "Safe?" He repeated dumbly. "Yes." She said confidently. "You protect me from everything, Erik. Before... I didn't want that. But now, I know you were doing the right thing. And I trust you. I want you to guard me still."
He felt his tears turn cold as he finally understood her feelings. She didn't love him and she did not want to stay out of passion. Protection- that's all she ever wanted from him. She only felt she had to stay because of her need for an angel; a surrogate father to protect her from the cruel reality of the world.
Dreams of them together crushed again, he said in a voice lined with despair, "Christine... I know you feel safe down here. But you cannot stay here forever. The world needs you, and your voice. I cannot keep you locked up down-"
"But you're not!" she cried. "It is my wish to stay with you. Don't send me away, please Erik!" Pleading, she ran to him, and took his hands in hers. They were so close; he felt his heart begin to pound. It was happening again. That night when he sent her away... all of it flashed in his mind. His mistake, the kiss that still tickled his lips... and her eyes before she disappeared for what he thought would be forever. He swore to himself on that night that is she had ever come back he would not make the same mistake twice.
But now he realized that it wasn't a mistake. It was a sacrifice.
*christine*
She saw the emotions run through his eyes, unable to follow their course. The only one she could truly see was his pain.
"You should leave, Christine. It is for your own good."
With those words, she watched her angel walk, defeated by his own conscience, into his room and locked the door.
She just asked him to let her stay, had not brought up the past or asked him to marry her! All she wanted was to stay with him, something she knew he had longed for since the first time he heard her sing. Yet now he wanted her to leave. Confused and hurt, she let her hands drop to her side and, not knowing what to do, went to her room to pack.
As she threw her few things into one bag, she wondered if he was asleep. She wondered if he even cared about her anymore. She ventured out of her room and knocked on his door. Receiving no answer, she decided that he wouldn't mind if she stayed one last night. Even if he did, she had nowhere to go. No one in Paris knew her, or thought enough to care. Erik was all she had. And now, not even he cared whether she lived or died.
She cried herself to sleep.
*erik*
He woke to the sound of an angel in his study.
Sitting up, he tried to shake the shackles of sleep off and focus on the sounds emanating from the other side of the door. He silently opened the door and stopped, unable to move from the sight that beheld his bloodshot eyes.
Christine stood, back to his room, holding a sheet of music in her hand. He stared at her; her hair was loose, her dress white and pure, her skin the shade of alabaster. Not only the voice of an angel, but the look of one as well; and to him she looked better than all the angels in heaven.
In the middle of his worshipful gaze, his mind finally connected the sounds coming from her wonderful lips. All of a sudden, his wonder and love turned into shock, which in turn formed into rage.
He unscrupulously snuck up behind her, and his anger was fueled when he saw what she was singing. "Why are you still here?" He hissed, and she jumped and spun around, the notes to his opera Dan Juan Triumphant scattering to the floor. "Oh!" She gasped, and then looked down. He ignored her guilty air and went on. "Can you not even respect my last wish for you? Is it impossible for you to do as I say just once? I tell you to leave, and yet where are you when I wake? Not in a warm bed up in Paris or in a friend's home laughing over how foolish you were. No, you are standing in front of my organ, singing the music that I wrote for..." 'For us', he thought, but did not say it. "Why, Christine? Why can't you just let me be in my miserable silence? I'd die so much easier if you just left."
"I had no place to spend the night," was her innocent response to his anger. She looked so frightened, her eyes round, staring at the man whose emotions were fiery and threatening. He could see she did not understand; still after all this time, she could never understand the deepness of his love for her. His anger melted away, and he felt guilt sweeping through him. To turn down this child from a bed was... No! She was not a child, he thought violently, and she did not need him. Certainly she did not want him. "Well it is morning now. You are free to leave." It came out as an order, and all of a sudden, he felt the heat of her eyes boring into him. "I will not leave. Not until you promise me something."
Struck by the firmness of her words, he took a slight step back and dared a look into her eyes. They were clear and bright; he knew he stood no chance against her will. He would do anything to make her happy once more.
"Anything, my dear." He whispered, and he meant it.
"Promise me... that I'll receive one more music lesson from my teacher."
-Okay, sorry to all that think Christine is smarter than I portrayed her here. It's not my fault; I swear it was the crayons!!! Tell me if you think I put too Much emphasis on her stupidity, or if you liked it, or just review because I told you to! Go! Go review now! Yes, take the mouse to that little button... There you go!! Good mindless slave... *cough* ahem! I mean good reader! (It's not me, it's those crayons!!! Especially the blue ones...)-