A/N: I just want to say thank you for all the reviews I've been getting! You all seem pretty happy with what I've written, I hope you enjoy what I'll write next :)
Chapter 2
Erik glanced around him wildly, seizing his cloak and throwing it on. He whirled around to the nearby desk, grabbing almost anything his hands touched and shoving it into the cloak's hidden pockets – a thick sheaf of papers. He wrenched open a drawer and pulled out a small bundle of money, stuffing it into the cloak.
His mask was resting on the desk too, and his fingers lingered on it for just a moment before stuffing that into his cloak too.
Christine watched him, her heart drumming in her chest, adrenaline pounding through her veins. What are you doing? a voice in her head cried. Foolish girl, this is the Phantom, the Opera Ghost, And he is going to steal you away! But when she looked at him, she didn't see the Opera Ghost, the monster that everyone claimed he was… she saw Erik, the angel, the man she loved. Loved! Did she love him? Yes, she loved him!
Her thoughts were interrupted with a jolt as Erik snatched up a tall candelabra and smashed it with all his strength into one of the many mirrors. He swung it into the mirror again and the smooth plane of glass shattered, the pieces flying everywhere to reveal a gaping black hole.
She involuntarily gasped, drawing away in instinctive fear of the unknown. Erik whirled around and ran to her, seizing her hand. But her feet seemed fastened to the spot, and he turned to her, his eyes seeming to pierce right through her. She remained unmoving, staring up at him, and he dropped her hand.
His voice was almost inaudible. "Will you come; or will you stay?"
She closed her eyes tightly, her blood pounding in her head; but it didn't block out the sound of the approaching mob, mounting louder and louder with each passing moment, the shouts and cries and heavy feet echoing throughout the underground lair.
Suddenly she heard one familiar voice rise above the others. "He took Christine!" Her eyes flew open. Raoul!
Raoul – her childhood sweetheart, her old friend. She had loved him, in some way, but she had been caught up into the attempt to change an old familiar relationship into something more, something safe and stable she could rely on. Yes, she had loved him – but as a girl loves a boy, as a child loves a playmate, not as a woman loves a man.
Her gaze met Erik's. His face was impassable, almost unreadable except for the tension in his jaw and the pain and tears shining in his eyes.
He held out his hand almost mockingly, as if he didn't expect her to take it. Christine stared at it, her mind flying back to that first night in her dressing room. Come to me Angel of Music…
She raised her head and met his eye resolutely; her expression was brave, although inside her heart was racing faster than seemed possible and her clenched stomach was a mass of butterflies. She stretched out a trembling hand and placed it in his.
Erik stared into her eyes, and opened his mouth as if to speak. But, with a swift glance towards the cave entrance, he turned away, cloak flaring out slightly behind him, and lead Christine through the gaping black hole.