Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own The Phantom of The Opera or any of its characters. Don't sue me.
This is dedicated to my father, for being one of the kindest people in my life and passing down his hobby of writing to me, Daemon, my closest friend and love of my life, and the users "letthedreamdescend" and "BlueBeauty" for their amazing Phantom stories. I hope you read on and enjoy.
I believe that when every woman is a little girl, she dreams of marrying a handsome, rich man, and having many wonderful children. That was exactly what I used to dream of, sitting in my father's attic, Raoul and I playing hide and seek, telling each other stories, eating lunches. Sometimes I wish life was really that simple.
"Christine?" I came out of a half sleep, darting my eyes to the door. "May I come in?"
"Of course." I leaned back into a stack of pillows, straightening my posture as Madame Giry strode through the door.
"Well. How are you doing? Do you feel sick at all? Tired?" Her voice seemed very lively, though she was trying her best to feign sincerity.
"Oh, I am fine, really. Although..." I looked down to my swollen abdomen and sighed, "I am a little tired."
"That is no surprise; perfectly normal. Do let me know if you feel ill."
I felt like crying. Ill? I only wish that all I felt was illness. If only you knew, Madame Giry...
"Okay, I will. You have my word."
She nodded, bending down to make a half bow at the end. I watched her hurry to the door, but she stopped mid step and turned back around, her long braid swirling behind her.
"Oh, yes, Monsieur le Vicomte was wondering if he could possibly see you. I told him you were sleeping for the time being..."
My stomach churned, tears swelling at the corner of my eyes. The last thing I wanted to hear was his name.
"N-No, please...I really think I will rest." My voice came out in a half sob, and Madame Giry frowned, but nodded and hurried off.
I sobbed, slowly leaning my head into my hands. Catching my breath, I wiped the corners of my red, puffy orbs, and laid back down into the pillows. My hands formed over the bulge in my stomach, lightly stroking my stretched skin. A child was resting in my belly, growing, and only waiting to be given birth to.
The last eight and a half months had gone by in a blur, my life seeming more and more pointless everyday, even with all the attention of everyone upon me. Everyone had been so happy for me, so proud that I was going to have a child with Raoul, so glad that I was already starting a life with my soon to be husband.
It surprised me, though, that no one had noticed the timing. Most women know that a child takes about nine months to be born, so why had no one said a word? Here I lie in this bed, waiting to give birth to my child, less than eight months after Raoul and I made love. Maybe no one had really kept track of time, or perhaps they thought my child would just be born a little early. None of those things sounded the least bit believable to me.
I knew why the timing had been so off. I was the only one who knew, and if anyone other than I ever found out why, I would be looked down upon for the rest of my life. Raoul would resent me. The owners of the opera house would shun me. Only Madame Giry and her daughter would stay by me, for they had been there for me my whole life, besides the man who had been like a father, a tutor...An angel.
That's why I wonder...Has everyone been playing dumb? Had Raoul not feared for his life the last eight months for any reason at all? I know that it had worried Madame Giry, and it had frightened me quite a bit as well. Perhaps they just thought that...That Erik had left us for good. I knew differently. After that night so many nights ago, I would never want him anywhere but beside me. And he always was, singing songs of sorrow and sadness as I lie in bed, trying my best to sleep. He, too, had more than likely thought that the child was Raoul's, and had become quite heartbroken.
I know that my act that night, many months ago, had caused him to think of us in a much more intimate way, for it was the same for me. We'd had such a close relationship before, and after that night...There wasn't a question in my mind about how much closer we had become. I tried to deny it, had to cover it in front of other people, but it was true. I wouldn't forget that night. My mind, my soul, and my body would not let me forget. And now, I had our child resting in my body.
It is true that I was, and still am, a little scared for Raoul's life, and even for my own. The Phantom had shown his capabilities many times before, and I could only imagine what he would bring himself to do if he were to find out that I was carrying the child of another man. But still, he seemed to relax and loosen up after our night together. Perhaps he finally understood how much I cared for him, even though...There was another man involved.
My head thumped, and I groaned. I had found that thinking too much, too often, was beginning to get the best of me. I could only wait until the child was born. After that...I really didn't know what to expect.
Later that night, after I had finally fallen asleep on the new bed in my dressing room, I was awoken by a creaking door. I silently opened my eyes, every hair rising on the back of my neck. The person's steps were quiet and slow, and I held my breath as they stopped right by my bed, their hand lingering on my shoulder.
"Christine?" It was Raoul's voice, quiet and raspy. I sighed, rolling over to face him, long curls falling over my shoulder.
"Yes, Raoul?" I talked quietly, not quite at a whisper, and he smiled.
"I was just coming to check up on you, is all." His hands held him up from the bed, and I nodded.
"Thank you." The tears came rushing back, and I held my breath, forcing them to not come spilling out.
"You wouldn't mind if I sat here with you, would you?" He was on the verge of begging; I could tell how badly he wanted to stay here with me. I sniffled, but nodded, smiling at him as he pulled a chair to the side of the bed. I rolled onto my side, facing away from him, pulling the blankets high on my shoulders. Raoul crossed his arms, leaning back in the chair, sighing as he watched me drift into sleep once again. I did not sleep, though, but waited until I heard steady, heavy breathing coming from him, and rolled over to see if he was asleep.
Once he was, I stared up at the ceiling. I strongly felt that the child would be born soon, and I was beginning to grow uneasy. It made me feel like a coward to be worrying like this. At the same time, I knew how much bravery it would take to be able to admit to everyone that the child was not Raoul's at all, and even more to tell them who the child's real father was.
Tears gathered and rolled down my cheeks, but for different reasons than before. I missed him. I truly missed him. His voice, his touches, his body...Even watching him sit at his organ, furiously concentrating on new pieces of music...I was suddenly overwhelmed by my need to see him, my attraction to him. No, the reasons weren't different than before. This is exactly why I had been upset in the first place. The Phantom, that man, my strong, stunning, sexual master, my teacher, my father...I wanted to be with him, especially during such a crucial time in my life; in our lives.
I began to violently sob. Tears flooded over my cheeks and down my neck, and I drew my trembling hands to wipe my face, to quiet the sobbing. I didn't realize that I had wakened Raoul, and he quickly crouched down beside me, holding me and wiping my tears. Even with his body so close to mine, his voice whispering in my ear, I felt incredibly alone. Even if I could just hear him singing, his sultry voice echoing through the theatre halls, I would feel relaxed and loved.
Where are you at a time like this, my angel?
I turned onto my back, wiping my sweaty forehead. The way I acted last night had truly frightened Raoul, but I told him not to worry; it was just my body getting the best of me. I had cried for almost an hour and had finally fallen asleep from exhaustion.
Raoul had rested his chair against the wall; his head leaned at an unnatural angle. His breath came out in snores, probably from the way his body was positioned, and I sighed. If I woke him now, he would probably want to talk and see how I was doing, and I honestly didn't want to talk to anyone. Anyone except...
There was a knock at my door, and Raoul jerked up, blinking sleep from his eyes. He smiled at me, and turned to open the door. Meg stood, smiling, her legs slightly crossed in front of her. I waved for her to come in, and Raoul left the two of us to talk.
"So, how are you doing?" She asked, crouching down beside me. "You look exhausted; your eyes are all red and your forehead is even glistening with sweat!"
"Oh, please, don't worry. I just woke up and had a fit last night," I lied, faking a giggle, "and I even managed to frighten Raoul. That's all."
"Oh, that's alright, then." She smiled, her light blonde hair falling around her childlike, dimple inducing smile.
"Yes, I guess-" I clenched my teeth, in the middle of my sentence, and gasped, digging my hands into the sheets.
"Christine? What's wrong? Do you think...?" She moved closer to me, obviously worried, and I nodded. She smiled, and jumped up. "Alright! I'll go get mother and the doctor!" She ran off, and Raoul ran back inside, smiling.
"Oh, this is amazing! What a day, already!" He kneeled beside me, grasping my hands in his. I nodded, the cramping inside my body growing in force, but still at a great distance in time.
A doctor, along with Madame Giry and some other ballerinas came running inside, some standing by my door. They brought towels, pitchers of warm water, some medical knives and medicine. After waiting for what seemed to be no longer than a few weeks, the birth of my child was about to begin.
"Oh, Christine, he's gorgeous!" Meg exclaimed, squeezing in between Raoul, the doctor, and Madame Giry. I sat perched up against pillows, my lower half covered with slightly bloody blankets and towels. I smiled, still breathing heavily. I had passed out into a deep sleep for a few moments, but I had awoken to see the doctor drying off a beautiful baby boy. Raoul tenderly wiped my forehead, pushing sweaty strands of hair from my face and off of my shoulder.
"Please, Monsieur, could the mother hold her child?" Madame Giry waved a hand to me, and I flashed a tired smile.
The doctor handed the baby to me, slowly and gently placing him in my arms. I moved the blue towel away from his face, watching him open his lips as he turned to his side, struggling to move in the tightly wrapped towel. I pushed the fabric off his head completely, revealing a few locks of dark brown hair, wet and pressed to his head, some partially dried. I cried, noticing how perfect his skin was, how cute his chubby little face was. It was time that I faced reality. I didn't want my child to grow up not knowing his father, for him to grow old wondering why he didn't resemble the leading man in his life whatsoever.
Everyone smiled, watching me cry and hug the baby. Madame Giry stepped forward, holding Meg against her.
"So, do you have a name for him, Christine?" I darted my head up to her, trying to think quickly. Raoul nodded, wondering what I would choose. I gasped, thinking of the perfect name, the words almost making me cry more heavily.
"Erik. I'll name him Erik." Madame Giry shot a glance at me, and I softly smiled. She smiled, too, and I saw tears form in her eyes.
"That's...A beautiful, strong name." She sobbed quietly, struggling to wipe her eyes. Raoul stood and nodded, assisting Meg in calming her mother down.
"Yes, that's a wonderful name, Christine." Raoul laughed, obviously happy with the name. I nodded to myself, thinking I couldn't have made any better of a choice. Right as I was beginning to calm down, Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin came rushing in, pushing their way through the tiny crowd.
"Ah, how wonderful!" I saw Monsieur Firmin clap his hands very excitedly. "Our first birth at the theatre!"
"Yes, just delightful!" Monsieur Andre chimed in, a big, goofy smile across his face.
"Madame, you will have a way to slim Ms. Daae down quickly, won't you?" Monsieur Firmin glanced at Madame Giry, and she shook her head, slightly disgusted, but nodded for her answer.
"Yes, yes, we wouldn't want one of our leading ladies to be out of shape for too long, now would we?"
The owners, or managers, Erik would quickly correct, laughed and walked out of the room, discussing roles and operas to come in the future. Madame Giry crossed her arms over her chest, observing the baby's movements and giggles. It immediately crossed my mind that she could have noticed the striking resemblance the baby had to the young boy she had brought to the opera house so many years ago, but I was not going to let it worry me. I was sure she would come to know the truth eventually.
Meg pulled away from her mother, walking up to me and pulling in close to the child.
"Um, I'm sorry, I know the child is still very young and all, but...He really doesn't look like the Vicomte at all, does he?" She looked up to me, slightly puzzled, but with a smile on her face.
I looked over to Raoul, and he shook his head, still lightly laughing.
"If the boy inherited most of his looks from his mother, then I don't think that'll be a problem, now will it?" He smiled at me, and I breathed a light giggle. Meg shrugged and nodded, running to the door where the other ballerinas were standing.
"Alright, everyone, I think Ms. Daae should rest now..." The doctor gathered up some of his things, lightly bowing to Madame Giry, "Madame?"
"Yes, of course, Monsieur." She nodded to him, and began to usher everyone out of the room. "Alright, everyone, back to the dormitories. And you, Vicomte..." She touched the side of Raoul's arm, catching his attention, "I think it is best for you to let her rest now." He nodded, kissing my forehead and running out with the rest of the crowd.
"I will come see you later, Christine, or tomorrow." He smiled before finally closing the door, and I nodded, smiling as well. My attention drifted back down to the child, his cheeks puffed up with an innocent smile. He wrapped his hand around my index finger, lightly squeezing, and I giggled.
"Erik," I whispered to him, smiling down into his face, "you're such a beautiful boy, you know that?"
The baby boy winked, and I couldn't help but smile. His eyes were dark, but they glistened under the candlelight from the lack of windows in the dressing room. I could already tell he was going to grow up to be a strikingly handsome man like his father.
"Your father..." The words fell out of my mouth, and the baby continued playing with my hand, "You'll be able to see your real father very soon, Erik. I promise I'll take you there." I sighed at the sound of the name, and the baby began sucking his thumb, leaving his other arm tucked inside the towel.
After playing with and feeding the baby, I adjusted him on my chest, and I sung him to sleep, soon to follow him.
I did not know the time that Erik had awakened, but he seemed to be quite uncomfortable. The baby flailed as much as he could, flung his arms as hard as his new, tiny body would let him. I rocked him in my arms and sang to him, but he continued to cry. I was hoping that no one would come rushing in to start a fuss, making the baby cry even more. Luckily, no one did, but I was left with a child that wouldn't stop flailing around.
"Say you love me every waking moment, turn my head with talk of summertime..." Very slowly and softly, I began to sing to the child again, hoping a different tune would calm him down. He cried, yet I continued to sing, "Say you need me with you now and always, promise me that all you say is true..."
Erik continued to cry, and suddenly I felt a shiver rise on my back, as if someone were there with me. Slightly alarmed, I continued to sing, "That's all I ask of you..."
I sighed, for the child would not stop crying. As I unlaced my blouse to attempt to feed him again, a beautiful tenor voice echoed into my room, picking up from a different verse and rousing every nerve in my body.
"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime..." I felt my eyes roll to the back of my head, and the man continued to sing, "Lead me, save me from my solitude..." The baby's crying slowly began to descend, and I hung my head back, my breaths beginning to come slowly and heavily, "Say you want me with you here beside you..." There was a long pause, and I opened up my eyes, joining the Phantom in perfect unison for the last lines.
"Anywhere you go, let me go too...Love me-that's all I ask of you..." After a few silent moments, I began to laugh, half sobbing. The baby had fallen asleep to the Phantom's voice, his father's voice. The rich, sultry sound rang in my ears, and I cried, once again feeling his presence all around me. I had literally forgotten what it felt like, to feel one person so close to you, all around you. I smiled, wiping my eyes and adjusting the sleeping baby.
"Thank you...My angel..."
The next day passed by quite quickly. I woke up, struggling to not wake the still sleeping baby. When he did wake up, I fed him and played with him again, singing to him some more. He giggled as I made funny faces, singing a song quietly in his ear.
"Past the point of no return-no going back now, our passion play has now, at last, begun..." There was a creak at the door and I looked up, quietly stopping the song.
"How are you doing?" Raoul walked in with his hands behind his back, a smile on his face. I smiled, poking my finger at Erik's stomach, making him giggle.
"Very well, actually. He's behaving better than last night." I glanced down at the baby who was sucking on the side of my hand, grasping my pinky with his free arm.
"Oh, yes...I heard you singing last night." He looked me in the eyes, the smile gone from his face. "And unless I was dreaming...You weren't alone."
My heart raced and my ears tingled just from the thought. I met Raoul's stare, not exactly sure what to say or think.
"Raoul..." Guilt washed over me, tears forming in my eyes once again. Why did I have to keep such thoughts from Raoul? I didn't want to lie to anyone, and yet I was acting so cowardly. "I...I..." Tears streamed down my face, my lips silently trembling.
"Its okay, Christine. I know how hard it is for you, how he...Manipulates you..." I tried to shake my head, to break away from Raoul's embrace, but at the moment, I was too weak. I couldn't say or do anything.
"Please, Raoul, just...Let me rest for a while, okay?" My eyes pleaded, and he sighed, looking slightly worried.
"Are you sure you'll be okay?"
"Yes, I'm sure." He hugged me one last time, squeezing my shoulders, and then hurried off.
I did sleep for a while, the baby lying awake on my chest. I thought it best to rest before I went to go visit Erik for the first time in more than nine months.
By the time I was awake, it was growing colder, showing how late it must have been getting. I got up, laying the now sleeping baby on my bed as I went to find some clothing.
I had kept my figure surprisingly well for a new mother, although my skin was a little flabby and stretched around my abdomen. I wasn't worried, but I had a little trouble getting into a corset for the night to come. I decided to tie it loosely, swirling a sheer cape around my back to make it less noticeable. The baby had rolled onto its side, and I smiled at him, searching around my vanity for something to carry him in.
I found a basket that had contained a gift that someone had given me after one of my performances so many weeks ago. There was a fluffy, thin blanket resting over the head of my small bed, and I took it off, softly stuffing it into the basket, resting the baby inside it still while he was still wrapped in his towel. He was awake, and I adjusted the towel so it covered his eyes and left more room for his head.
The mirror at the end of the room towered to the ceiling, and I gaped at it in anticipation. My heart thumped, and my breaths increased mightily in speed, making my shoulders lightly shake. I turned back around to pick up the basket, but I met Madame Giry's eyes instead. She must have walked in while my mind wandered off, to the point that I couldn't hear her. I know how many times it had happened with Raoul...
"My, Christine, you certainly are lively for being such a new mother." She raised an eyebrow at me and crossed her arms, her thin walking stick under one of them, the silver handle catching my eye in the candlelight. I tried my hardest to slow my breathing, and I succeeded after a few seconds of deep, slow breaths. She looked my body up and down, and I shifted on my feet, looking to the ground. I felt the slightest bit light headed, but looked up to meet her gaze again, hiding the tears that were beginning to form in my eyes.
"Madame Giry..." I slowly moved over to my bed, steadying my trembling hands to pick up the basket containing my son, "Look at him, my baby boy." I was scared and could hear my heart beat in my ear, but I lifted the basket, carefully handing it to her, "Do you...Do you see Raoul in his face at all, Madame?"
She studied the baby for only a brief amount of time, and then closed her eyes, looking to the side as if she had seen a picture of a dead family member. She made a tiny, quiet gasping sound and looked back to meet my eyes.
"Christine..." Her voice was quiet, yet sad, and she handed the baby back to me, "I really can't believe what I've just seen. That baby..."
"I knew you, of anyone, would notice." I whispered, tears beginning to slide down my trembling cheeks, "That is why...I want..." Madame Giry's eyes searched the floor, but she quickly nodded, holding her hands behind her back, her posture perfectly straight once again.
"I understand that you need to do what you must. The child looks just like him, you know. Oh, Christine..." She shut her eyes, her lower lip trembling. I looked around the room, finding some suitable shoes and picked up the basket in which Erik lie sleeping.
"I know, Madame Giry." I continued whispering, slowly and quietly sliding the mirror to the side, revealing the murky catacomb. I placed one foot inside, looking out to tell her one last thing, "That is because he is his father and that is why I must go see him."
I couldn't help but think that, when I was sliding the mirror closed behind me, the tears Madame Giry was crying appeared to be of happiness.
The walls seeped with dirty water, sounds of falling droplets echoing down the hallway. It was hard for me to believe this was the same hall I had seen so long ago, the walls that were covered in shimmering candelabrum, a golden aura of mystery and music resonating off of them. It was amazing, really, what he could do to me, make me think, or do. I sighed, looking down to check on my child, and I noticed my hands wrapped around a cold oar, pushing the gondola through the canal beneath the theatre.
"When did..." I trailed off, noticing my baby's peaceful, sleeping face. I smiled, but looked around, also noticing that I was well into the canal, probably more than halfway to the grotto where we were headed.
There was a clink beneath the boat, and I jerked, slightly alarmed. For a quick moment, I lifted the oar off the floor of the canal to find the boat moving perfectly without my help, turning a corner to the waterway leading straight into the harbor of the Phantom's domain. This, too, had once seemed much more lavish, covered in open mouthed gargoyles that shimmered in reflections of the water. Perhaps Erik knew I had planned to come see him, and that had spurred him to set off the chain to pull the boat, for he knew I would be very much in a trance after entering the mirror.
I could see the portcullis a few meters away, beginning to slowly rise. My eyes widened and my breath caught in my throat. He had been expecting me the whole time, and I had waited so long to come see him. The thought made me feel the slightest bit disappointed, to have been yearning to see him for so long, only to have been blind to his open arms.
As the gate rose to the top of the grotto, I let the boat slowly come to a stop on the chain which had been leading it. I climbed out, sinking knee deep into cold water, making sure of not swinging the basket around too wildly. My heart thumped rapidly, air leaving my body in silent gasps. I steadily began making my way to some dry ground.
My stomach fluttered when I saw his organ sitting tall and quietly, melted down candles surrounding it. It was like something out of a dream, yet it was real; it was the same every time I was in his lair, beautiful and dominant. I couldn't help but imagine Erik sitting there, hunched over some new music, his fingers moving lissome across the sheets of paper. I stood staring; dreaming of watching him put every ounce of himself into that music.
"Christine..."
I gasped, quickly turning myself around. I met his eyes, his strong, unblinking gaze. I had found him in that same flowing, velvet, forest green robe he had worn before, the front hanging open, revealing a ruffled white shirt over his muscular chest. His dark brown hair, some of which was a wig, was slicked back, wavy at the base of his neck, and covering the right side of his face was his ivory colored mask, leading from his nose down to his lips.
"Yes..." The word left my lips very quietly, my breaths growing shaky from the sight of him before me. My knees wobbled, but I began to walk towards him, to where he stood before his bed. He slowly moved forward, too, and we walked to each other until we met at the edge of the water.
He looked down to me, his eyes dark and glassy, and I began to lift my arm to touch the side of his face. He glanced down, noticing the gesture, but his eyes found something else, something they didn't want to see-A child. His eyes widened, and he shot them straight back up to mine, his brows in an angry frown.
"Why, Christine? Why would you bring that child here?" He fumed, shouting into my face. I flinched, but didn't back away, and he went on, "Do you think I would want to see him, to congratulate you on the birth of your new baby?" He raised his hands up at his sides, as if waiting for a hug, though his voice was dry with wicked sarcasm. "Do you think I would want to see the child of you and that...That man?" His voice grew quiet, but ended with a sharp growl.
I slowly and silently shook my head. Looking into his eyes, I found pools of pain and torment. I couldn't let this go on any longer, and I set the basket carefully to the ground, standing straight to meet his gaze again.
"I...I've missed you...Angel..." I whispered, looking up to his face, which softened for a brief second. "I didn't come here to sadden you, I swear." The words came out of my mouth as air, but he frowned, his lips parting and pulling back in disgust. He turned and strode to his instrument, pacing back and fourth in front of it. I could tell he was upset and very well confused by my last statement, so I picked up the basket and raced after him.
"Please, listen, you don't understand-"
"No, you're the one who doesn't understand, Christine!" His face was red and his jaw clenched, his arms thrown out at his sides. Tears streamed down my face as I watched my Angel sit down on the bench of his organ, resting his head in his hands, his whole body silently trembling. My heart ached as I watched him cry, his breaths shaking, coming out in silent sobs.
"But...Don't you see?" I quietly got down onto my knees, lifting the basket to my chest, as if I were placing it on his lap. The Angel grew silent, tremors still running through his body, and I lifted the basket even higher, resting it against his thighs. "This beautiful baby boy...Is our child. Not mine and Raoul's." He lifted his head from his hands, staring down to find my face. I smiled, tears still rolling down my cheeks, which I'm sure were completely red.
"Christine..." He whispered, his lips slightly trembling. I nodded, pushing the basket further onto his lap as he moved his arms. I lifted the baby from it, holding him against my chest in my left arm as I set the basket back onto the ground. My heart thumped, for I didn't know how Erik would react to holding such a new, delicate life in his hands, but before I even thought of handing the child to him, I lifted my right hand to his face, stroking his chin and left cheek.
"If you would, please..." I ran my fingers over the leather on the right side of his face, my eyes searching his for an answer. He looked back at me, stunned, but pushed my hand away before taking a deep breath, pulling the ivory mask from his face. I nodded, watching him delicately set it on the edge of his organ, and he shakily put his hands out to me, waiting for the child.
I gently put the baby into his enormous hands and watched him pull the boy to his chest, holding his bottom in one hand and supporting his head and neck in the other. The baby woke for a moment, quietly sticking one arm up to bat at his father's face, but yawned and fell back asleep.
"What...Did you name him?" The Phantom asked, lifting his head to straighten his posture. I smiled, wiping dry tears from my face.
"His name is Erik." I said, a little louder than before, and his face grew soft and happy, though tears fell from his eyes.
"Oh, Christine..." He sobbed, his lips and shoulders trembling, "Erik, our child..." He sobbed again, his breath coming out sharp and jagged. He was completely devastated, holding our child in his hands, hugging him to his chest. I held both sides of his face, wiping away tears, and he sniffled, growing quieter very quickly. We both looked down to the baby, watching him drool in his sleep.
"He looks a little tired now, I think." I said softly and lovingly. My Angel looked to me and stood up, carefully walking with the baby in the direction of his room. I stood as well, waiting to see what he was going to do, and he bent over, placing Erik in a rocking cradle, something that looked both new and excellently crafted, probably made by Erik himself after he found out I was having a baby. He tucked the child in, and I smiled, watching him slowly stand up, still watching the baby in his new bed.
"Well, I think he'll be alright now." The Phantom stated quietly, turning around to look at me. I nodded, crying as I tried to dry older tears, and he watched me receive something from the top of his organ. I walked back over to him, standing beside the cradle, holding my engagement ring in my hands.
"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime...Say the word, and I will follow you..." My steps slowed as I softly and quietly sang to him, holding the ring at my chest, "Share each day with me, each night, each morning..." I stopped in front of him, leaning my body into his, watching his eyes dart over me, "Say you love me..." I slid the ring onto my finger, placing his hand over mine against my chest, and he nodded, almost smiling.
"Christine, I do..." He whispered, holding my hand as tears continued falling from his eyes, as they did from mine.
"Love me-That's all I ask of you..." We sang together, and I threw my arms around his neck, pressing my lips to his. I pulled away, watching him shudder, his bottom lip trembling as he wrapped his arms around my back, scooping me up to him. I kissed him again; making sure it was long and deep, I held his face and neck, drawing his tongue into my mouth. He let me down, pulling his body away from mine, and he reached out his hand, which I took, and lead me to his bed.
For the past few months, I had begun to hate myself for lying and being such a coward, but there was no turning back now, and I wasn't going to lie anymore.
Forgive me, Raoul.
I woke up lying against him, my back to his chest. His right arm was draped over my side, and I sighed, smiling, lifting it up so I could roll over to face him. He stirred, moving his arm to rest on his side, lightly gripping the blankets around his waist. I watched his side rise and fall steadily and his hair fall over his eyes. I lifted my hand to lightly stroke his face, running my fingers down over his bare biceps, resting my hand on his shoulder. I watched my ring twinkle in the darkness, and I smiled.
"Do you see now, why I would give myself and everything I have to you?" I whispered, running my hand back up to his face, sliding my naked body closer to his. "It's because...I love you."
His breathing had slowed; I was certain he was awake, but I just placed a light kiss on his cheek, watching two tears seep from his sleep filled eyes. Yes, that was it-I loved him, and wanted to stay swimming in this sea of red velvet, drowning in his beautiful voice, listening to his music forever. At last, my life was beginning to vaguely appear before me, blood red roses in its hands.