Disclaimer – "How can you own someone who really existed?"

AN - A quirky little fic, one shot. It came to me at 3 in the morning.

The little things

She was sitting on the divan rigidly, keeping her head bowed and stared intently at the skirts in front of her. Her breathing was tight and constricted, not only from her corset, but from the fear in her heart. Slowly she pulled out her inhaler and sucked down the medication for her asthma.

"I still shall never be able to accept some of your contraptions m'dear." Erik said to her from across the room. He was standing by the fireplace, looking into its depths. She remembered asking him how it was possible for him to have a fireplace underneath the opera, and he just smiled at her wryly. He often told her she wasn't capable of understanding, so she should not bother asking.

She looked up and smiled at him wistfully, some of the tension leaving her chest.

"You should really try some Erik, It probably isn't good for your health to be stalking around these dusty, damp catacombs." She said standing and stepping towards him.

"Indeed, I highly doubt the opera ghost should be consuming any medicines from some other-worldly being." He said snidely and turned from her to walk away.

"Oh Erik, it's strange how you're cynism becomes you." She said sighing and looking after him. He turned to her, his eyes narrowed, his mouth tight, even his mask looked annoyed.

"NOTHING becomes me Kirsten, you should do well to remember that." he bit at her as he stalked towards her. She drew in a long breath as she studied her love, standing before her. He was tall, towering over her five foot 3 inch frame. Yet, unlike most stories, he barely had anything lovely to recognize about his face. His eyes were sunken and black, so much that if he moved them fast and enough for extended periods of time, small, filmy tears would gather in the corners. He had no nose, or a hole in his face where it should be... It was a lump of flesh surrounding malformed bone that lead to a large single hole. It spread his eyes further apart then they should be, the connecting piece to his head large and stable. Also, unlike the stories, except for a few man made scar's, his skin was relatively smooth, translucent and thin. He covered the entire mess with a full mask only accenting the two things that were normal enough to view. His lips, plump on one side thinned to small lips on the other, not misshaped, just uneven. She stared at those lips longing to run her tongue over them to taste his skin. She looked back into his eyes, from a distance they could be described as brown, but they were nothing but. She knew that they were rich amber, which would seem more cat then human. She stared deeply into them, reading them for what they present to her, pain... hate... and deep sorrow caused by loneliness.

"I was told that often growing up... My body not lithe and firm. My curves to curvy, my waist too large, Children are cruel." She said looking down at the corset that was binding her body, molding it to a more appealing flesh. In her own way, she secretly wished that they dressed this way back home.

"You have told me you are no glutton, I have seen this with my own eyes as I fed you." he said softly. "Yet I'm sure you could not understand the intensity of how cruel children were to me." He stated.

Anger passed over her features and she growled as she dashed towards him. Slowly she held up her left hand to his face "This scar, on my palm? Stabbed at the age of 14 because of boys whipping sharp drawing pencils at me, I held it up to protect my face. The scar here, on my forehead? From rocks that were thrown at me as I cried and begged them to leave me alone. When I fought back, I was told I was naughty by the adults, and when I allowed them to have their fun, I developed these scars. At the lake, when I went out to the raft, a boy from school used to slap me in the face and throw sand in my eyes. They used to take this 'contraption' I use for my asthma and run around with it, making me chase them till I had an attack and my lips turned blue. When they were finally pleased they would toss it back at me at my feet." She said calming at the last words. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes and threatened to spill, but she refused to allow them, she would not cry after so long.

"How did you endure?" he asked quietly touching her shoulder softly gently messaging it under his fingers.

Sighing at the connection, she looked back up at him "I did it because I knew I would go insane if I didn't. I knew they were wrong, and one day someone amazing would find me appealing. Someone did, he made the world turn from gray to color."

He turned from her at this and went to sit down on his divan. "I have known no love." He told her sadly.

"Erik, I love you... I love you very much! This is what I have been trying to tell you, please don't make me go home."

"Kirsten, you are too brash to live here. You have tried to fit in, but there are some small things your era has instilled in you that would not be appropriate here. You would be seen as a whore." He told her breaking their connection and returning to the fireplace.

"But you are not too cynical for my era, the world would accept you." She said, in a desperate attempt to win him over.

"NO ONE will EVER accept me." He stated maliciously. Staring deep into the flames which wereflickering over his features.

"Erik how can I get through to you, I accept you... Women from my era swoon at your name, you're our Byronic hero." She said with a hint of amusement. It was true, for it was the reason she came. She had wanted to prove to not only the world the Phantom had existed, but prove to the phantom himself, that millions loved him.

"No Kirsten, you do not love me, you love the idea of me." He whispered. He then turned to her, the seduction emanating from him, making her quiver. "Something mysterious, passionate, and enthralling, someone that places you ona pedal stool as the one thing that makes them feel life is worth living. Women from your day do not receive that like they should, at least from what you've described to me." He said reaching where she stood.

"At first, I think you're right... I think I was in awe of you. I think I did love the idea of someone loving me unconditionally. That is why I perused you, that is why I came. Yet, the time we spent together, while you fixed the machine... Erik you showed me who you really were. You showed me passion beyond anything I have ever felt, you left me small presents that I will cherish more then any diamond. It's the little things Erik, the little things always prove that the other person cares." She smiled sweetly, reaching up to stroke his hair. He leaned into her palm; allowing her to gently touch him, love him like he desperately needed. Then suddenly he stopped, pulled away and looked down at her scornfully.

"What about your dear Charles? Why are you willing to give him up for a monster who was dead before your grandmother was even born?" He asked narrowing his eyes into slits.

"I already told you, Charles and I had broken up long before I arrived here in search of you." She told him confused. Why must he always bring this up? She thought.

"But he was your light, the one that made you realize that life was worth living. How could you just let him go?" He asked somewhat mockingly, and yet, she could hear a touch of awe.

"It was hard, don't get me wrong. In some way, I will always love him. You never do forget your first love Erik; they will be apart of you till the day you die. It doesn't necessarily mean your first love is your truest. Your first is special because they are your first; they are the ones who introduced you to this beautiful misery called love. In the end, Charles and I had wanted different things out of life. I want a child some day, and he was never prepared to give me one. That was one of the only reasons why we parted, but it was enough. Understand?" She asked him, reaching for his hand.

"Sometimes, even though we love someone… we must give them up, because in the end it's the right thing for them, and possibly ourselves. Who knows, there could always be someone else better waiting around the corner. Someone more accepting? Someone, who actually does want the same things out of life as you." She finished, holding his palm to her cheek. He deftly stroked the skin, lingering near the nape of her neck. She longed for him to just kiss her, to finally give into what she had always hoped he wanted, but was always afraid she'd reject. There had been day's she was thoroughly annoyed with his continual defamation of himself. Suddenly the clock began to chime and he awoke from his moment of intimacy, dropping his hand and backing away. She could still feel his fingers tracing the edge of her face when he told her that he thought it was time she left.

He sat where she had on the divan, thinking over their parting words. It had been an hour since she had quietly and resolute, walked to the bedroom and shut the door. He had noticed she had done it as if he had sentenced her to death. Closing his eyes, he tried to bring back the image of her face, so round but beautiful, so caring and sweet, but he had let her go. Lether go, what a way to put it… he had forced her away, left every wall in place that he had built so long ago and refused to allow her to penetrate them so he could never be hurt again. If that were true, why was it so painful, after she had only been gone for such a short period? He almost panicked when he realized that it had only been an hour and his senses were already starting to forget how she felt when he touched her, how bright her eyes got when he neared. Angrily, he got up and walked towards the bedroom, throwing open the door. He had half expected her to be sitting on the other side, waiting with a smile that screamed "I knew you'd come for me," like he was some knight in armour she had long been waiting for. His heart sunk when he did not see her there, but a note in her stead. He walked towards it and noticed her inhaler was left on the bed as well.

Erik,

Remember, it's the little things that prove our love. I left this for you.

Also, I left you the blueprints I used to make the machine, after you fixed it I'm sure you'd have no problems building your own. It was the least I could do. Now you have the opportunity to go back in time, or forward if you wish. It's entirely up to you.

Sincerely

Kirsten.

He smiled, at her words scrawled on the small parchment. Quickly, he pulled out the blue prints from the envelope and set to work.