A/N: This was written as a Role-play with my best guy friend, Cassidy (AKA
maskedshadow on ffnet but his profile never shows up :-() However, I write
Christine and he writes Erik!!! I hope you enjoy this! ^-^ This begins at
the first time Erik takes Christine through the mirror.
Christine sat before her dresser, staring into the mirror. Brushing through her long brown hair, her lips curled into a slight smile. Tonight had been a triumph! Her Angel of Music had not lied when he told her she would astonish Paris! Gently placing her brush on the vanity, she folded her hands in her lap. If her Angel had not come, she would most likely still be dancing in the ballet de corpse, with terrible beat and movement. Turning away from the mirror, Christine stood up slowly, sighing. She had undoubtedly sung for him tonight! Tonight, she had given him her soul on that stage. Biting her rose colored lip, she wrung her hands, praying she had not disappointed him.
Erik's demons had failed him. His anger, his hate, his malice, it was all gone. All that remained was a heart that bled for the first time in ages. He pressed his face against the glass. It was cold, a feeling familiar to him. He looked through it and saw his flower, his goddess, his angel. How he hated and loved this cold glass, keeping him in the shadows that he knew so well but at the same time holding him back for this beauty. Damn the shadows, the demons, the familiarity! He would give it all up for her. He had already given himself away. With a soft whisper that took more strength from him than the thousand of angry shouts he had let out before, he called out Christine's name.
Christine's head snapped towards the sound, her face lighting up with joy. How lovely that voice was! It seemed to be a soft caress upon her ear. "Angel, did I. did I disappoint you tonight?" She inquired, her voice barely audible. The air about her was suddenly filled with majesty and wonder. Her face surely reflected the ecstasy she was feeling at that moment. The tantalizing voice resounded in every ounce of the room, causing Christine to look up towards the heavens.
Disappoint him? Nothing could have surprised him more. How could he be disappointed at the moment he had been waiting for from the person he had lived for? This question stabbed deep, and he was not ready for it. He was stunned. Didn't she know? Couldn't she tell? To be disappointed in her would be impossible. He then became frightened. For the first time he realized, it was never he who was in control. His voice may lead her, but hers puppeted him. The absence of his voice may hurt her, but to lose hers would kill him. Afraid of these realizations, he criticized. He couldn't believe what he was saying, but he could not stop. He closed his ears to her questions, closed his eyes to her tears, and for a moment, closed his heart to her sorrow. When he opened them all at once, he was horrified to have seen what he had done. "My angel, forgive me. You will get better. Come with me." Finding his hand uncontrollable, it reached forward and slid back the glass.
Slightly surprised, Christine's eyes widened, taking a slender hand that beckoned to her. As it grasped her, a gasp fled from her lips. The touch was cold. A shiver traveled up her spine, as she began following this strange man. Her gaze was unable to leave his. For a moment, Christine honestly believed that she would have continued to follow him. even if he led her off the edge of the earth. As the shock wore off, fear began to grow inside of her. Who was this man? Was this her Angel? But how could this be? Numerous questions bombarded her mind, as she began to shake. Was her Angel merely a man? Who was he? Her eyes adjusted to the frightening darkness. The black twirled about her, as his grip on her became tighter, yet still gentle. They ultimately reached what she assumed to be the final cellar. Before her was a lake. The only light that was there was the soft glistening of the water. Her stare returned to him... Now, she could clearly see his face. He donned a white, porcelain mask and his eyes blazed, intently watching her. Drawing in a shaky breath, she knew those eyes would be forever engraved in her mind.
She was obviously shaking, but so was he. He hadn't expected so much fear in her. Her look of concern filled him with his own. Why hadn't he entertained these thoughts before? Foolishness had pushed them from his mind. It was foolishness that had caused him to forget the fear that he would cause her. His eyes moved to the lake in front of him, his gaze moved down. There, in the blank water, he saw his reflection. He saw his body, slim, covered in black. He saw his hands, so swift, able to bring ultimate beauty and ultimate pain. He saw his mouth, the same mouth that had just brought Christine so much pain. But above all other things, he saw the mask. It stared at him, a ghost he could not shake. It scratched at his mind, shouting reminders of what was underneath. It held him there, weakening him and for what seemed forever, it was all he could see. But suddenly, he saw something else. The mask disappeared, along with the pain it carried with it. for he saw her face. This face, so perfect, so clean, shown like a diamond in the water. It wasn't foolishness that made him believe she would accept him - it was hope. That hope still lived. So he began to sing to her. He watched as her breathing slowed, as she fell into the magic that was so glorious to her. Her eyes glowed until they finally shut. He carried her asleep into the boat and began the long trip to music's shrine.
Christine's eyes began to gradually shut, his voice being the last thing heard. As she slept, she could feel a slight rocking motion, moving back and forth. She dreamt of the man she had just recently encountered. Those eyes still gazed at her... still silently implored her to remain by their side. In those eyes, mystery and power energetically danced. Before she drifted off into a newfound darkness, Christine remembered losing herself in his voice... as well as the mask. So many questions conjured in her mind when bringing up the subject of that mask. It seemed to hold so many inexplicable secrets that she feared she would never discover.
Had Heaven opened up and rained out all its glory, Erik would not have moved his head. He was looking down at the one thing that even Heaven lacked: his angel. How could sleep be so magnificent? In her sleep, he found rest. While she dreamed, he too dreamt of happiness. Spring had come to him, it had rescued him, and he embraced it. How he wanted to forget everything but this spring. He felt the boat hit the shore. Had they already arrived, had this trip already come to an end? How much time he spent there, he would never be able to tell. But he didn't move to get up. He just kept looking at her. Moved by forces he couldn't explain, he reached his hand out to touch her face. As his hand moved across her delicate cheek, he watched in horror as she ripped herself from her sleep and screamed. Never was such a flower meant to be touched by death. He roared curses at himself. He had found spring, but he was still winter.
She awoke to an icy touch, brushing across her cheek. It startled her, for it was not expected. Sitting up swiftly, Christine watched him wearily. An awkward silence enclosed on them. Those haunting eyes still remained on her... yet she could not break the breath-taking gaze. Slowly taking his hand, he effortlessly lifted her up, as if she weighed no more than a feather. Her breathing became scarce, as she was only a few inches from his masked face. He stood there for a moment before continuing their journey. Little did she know, there was not much farther they had to travel. He seductively led her to a desolate home that rested upon the lake. Her eyes reluctantly tore away from him as she began to search the unfamiliar area around her. She was helpless, at a loss of words. Finally, she achieved composure. "Where am I?" She questioned, gaining her strength, able to speak once more.
A/N: R&R!! What do ya'll think? Should Cassidy and I keep going? Well, I don't care if you think we should keep going because we are... The real question is: Do you think we should keep posting this on ffnet?? ^-^
Christine sat before her dresser, staring into the mirror. Brushing through her long brown hair, her lips curled into a slight smile. Tonight had been a triumph! Her Angel of Music had not lied when he told her she would astonish Paris! Gently placing her brush on the vanity, she folded her hands in her lap. If her Angel had not come, she would most likely still be dancing in the ballet de corpse, with terrible beat and movement. Turning away from the mirror, Christine stood up slowly, sighing. She had undoubtedly sung for him tonight! Tonight, she had given him her soul on that stage. Biting her rose colored lip, she wrung her hands, praying she had not disappointed him.
Erik's demons had failed him. His anger, his hate, his malice, it was all gone. All that remained was a heart that bled for the first time in ages. He pressed his face against the glass. It was cold, a feeling familiar to him. He looked through it and saw his flower, his goddess, his angel. How he hated and loved this cold glass, keeping him in the shadows that he knew so well but at the same time holding him back for this beauty. Damn the shadows, the demons, the familiarity! He would give it all up for her. He had already given himself away. With a soft whisper that took more strength from him than the thousand of angry shouts he had let out before, he called out Christine's name.
Christine's head snapped towards the sound, her face lighting up with joy. How lovely that voice was! It seemed to be a soft caress upon her ear. "Angel, did I. did I disappoint you tonight?" She inquired, her voice barely audible. The air about her was suddenly filled with majesty and wonder. Her face surely reflected the ecstasy she was feeling at that moment. The tantalizing voice resounded in every ounce of the room, causing Christine to look up towards the heavens.
Disappoint him? Nothing could have surprised him more. How could he be disappointed at the moment he had been waiting for from the person he had lived for? This question stabbed deep, and he was not ready for it. He was stunned. Didn't she know? Couldn't she tell? To be disappointed in her would be impossible. He then became frightened. For the first time he realized, it was never he who was in control. His voice may lead her, but hers puppeted him. The absence of his voice may hurt her, but to lose hers would kill him. Afraid of these realizations, he criticized. He couldn't believe what he was saying, but he could not stop. He closed his ears to her questions, closed his eyes to her tears, and for a moment, closed his heart to her sorrow. When he opened them all at once, he was horrified to have seen what he had done. "My angel, forgive me. You will get better. Come with me." Finding his hand uncontrollable, it reached forward and slid back the glass.
Slightly surprised, Christine's eyes widened, taking a slender hand that beckoned to her. As it grasped her, a gasp fled from her lips. The touch was cold. A shiver traveled up her spine, as she began following this strange man. Her gaze was unable to leave his. For a moment, Christine honestly believed that she would have continued to follow him. even if he led her off the edge of the earth. As the shock wore off, fear began to grow inside of her. Who was this man? Was this her Angel? But how could this be? Numerous questions bombarded her mind, as she began to shake. Was her Angel merely a man? Who was he? Her eyes adjusted to the frightening darkness. The black twirled about her, as his grip on her became tighter, yet still gentle. They ultimately reached what she assumed to be the final cellar. Before her was a lake. The only light that was there was the soft glistening of the water. Her stare returned to him... Now, she could clearly see his face. He donned a white, porcelain mask and his eyes blazed, intently watching her. Drawing in a shaky breath, she knew those eyes would be forever engraved in her mind.
She was obviously shaking, but so was he. He hadn't expected so much fear in her. Her look of concern filled him with his own. Why hadn't he entertained these thoughts before? Foolishness had pushed them from his mind. It was foolishness that had caused him to forget the fear that he would cause her. His eyes moved to the lake in front of him, his gaze moved down. There, in the blank water, he saw his reflection. He saw his body, slim, covered in black. He saw his hands, so swift, able to bring ultimate beauty and ultimate pain. He saw his mouth, the same mouth that had just brought Christine so much pain. But above all other things, he saw the mask. It stared at him, a ghost he could not shake. It scratched at his mind, shouting reminders of what was underneath. It held him there, weakening him and for what seemed forever, it was all he could see. But suddenly, he saw something else. The mask disappeared, along with the pain it carried with it. for he saw her face. This face, so perfect, so clean, shown like a diamond in the water. It wasn't foolishness that made him believe she would accept him - it was hope. That hope still lived. So he began to sing to her. He watched as her breathing slowed, as she fell into the magic that was so glorious to her. Her eyes glowed until they finally shut. He carried her asleep into the boat and began the long trip to music's shrine.
Christine's eyes began to gradually shut, his voice being the last thing heard. As she slept, she could feel a slight rocking motion, moving back and forth. She dreamt of the man she had just recently encountered. Those eyes still gazed at her... still silently implored her to remain by their side. In those eyes, mystery and power energetically danced. Before she drifted off into a newfound darkness, Christine remembered losing herself in his voice... as well as the mask. So many questions conjured in her mind when bringing up the subject of that mask. It seemed to hold so many inexplicable secrets that she feared she would never discover.
Had Heaven opened up and rained out all its glory, Erik would not have moved his head. He was looking down at the one thing that even Heaven lacked: his angel. How could sleep be so magnificent? In her sleep, he found rest. While she dreamed, he too dreamt of happiness. Spring had come to him, it had rescued him, and he embraced it. How he wanted to forget everything but this spring. He felt the boat hit the shore. Had they already arrived, had this trip already come to an end? How much time he spent there, he would never be able to tell. But he didn't move to get up. He just kept looking at her. Moved by forces he couldn't explain, he reached his hand out to touch her face. As his hand moved across her delicate cheek, he watched in horror as she ripped herself from her sleep and screamed. Never was such a flower meant to be touched by death. He roared curses at himself. He had found spring, but he was still winter.
She awoke to an icy touch, brushing across her cheek. It startled her, for it was not expected. Sitting up swiftly, Christine watched him wearily. An awkward silence enclosed on them. Those haunting eyes still remained on her... yet she could not break the breath-taking gaze. Slowly taking his hand, he effortlessly lifted her up, as if she weighed no more than a feather. Her breathing became scarce, as she was only a few inches from his masked face. He stood there for a moment before continuing their journey. Little did she know, there was not much farther they had to travel. He seductively led her to a desolate home that rested upon the lake. Her eyes reluctantly tore away from him as she began to search the unfamiliar area around her. She was helpless, at a loss of words. Finally, she achieved composure. "Where am I?" She questioned, gaining her strength, able to speak once more.
A/N: R&R!! What do ya'll think? Should Cassidy and I keep going? Well, I don't care if you think we should keep going because we are... The real question is: Do you think we should keep posting this on ffnet?? ^-^