A/N: Yes,the attractionbegins. Naturally, at some point, Erik (which is not what I call him in this story, as yet) must begin to have feelings for her at some point, but this will most likely change the events of the movie, so in here you see a bit of Christine's emotion too. I hope you like it! Also, 15 may seem young for Christine, but in actuality, it is one year before the movie takes place. So anyways, Enjoy!

Chapter Three: Night Unfurls It's Splendor

The year is 1869. Miss Daae is 15 years of age.

Christine woke in a cold sweat from another frightening dream, but for the first time, her angel had not comforted her. In actuality, the Phantom had been in is lair, and didn't realize that his precious gem was in pain, for if he had, he surely would have come running. He never meant to not be there for her. Christine though, as being young and quite naive, felt her world shattering around her when it seemed her one sense of security suddenly being absent. Her angel was never not near her. 'Oh God,' she thought as she pushed her covers back, 'I need to get out.'

Paris was far too dangerous at night to even think of leaving the opera house, this much she knew, but she knew that at least a walk around, getting out of her room, would help her clear her mind. After drifting from the dim light shining from the candles in the dormitory hallways, Christine realized that she wasn't prepared for the darkness that overtook the majority of the opera house at night. She thought momentarily of going back for a candle, but she thought it to be quite foolish to go all the way back to continue a journey with no destination. 'I know my way around here, even in the dark,' she reasoned. What Christine didn't realize though, was that she was being foolish.

While descending the great staircase in the heart of the opera house, she lost her footing on a stair, as she could see absolutely nothing but complete blackness. Her ankle twisted to the side and she fell to the ground. Her feet flew over her head and back again, and she toppled to the bottom of the grand staircase and lay in a heap at the bottom.

She found her breaths grow short and quick, not coming easily, and a sharp pain pounded from her ankle. She wanted to cry out in pain, but figured as hard as it was, silence was best. 'No one who could help is near, I can manage to get back myself, in just a few moments. Surely if anyone were to hear me anyway, I would be scolded for being out so late, and waking the performers who rose so early. Oh God, what have I gotten myself into?'

Christine then noticed a small flickering light, that of a small candle, drawing near to her, and as it grew closer, it illuminated the silhouette of a man, wearing a cape. A knot formed in Christine's stomach, but at the same time, she knew that no harm would come to her. As the figure drew close enough that at any moment the candle might illuminate his face enough for Christine to realize the man's identity, suddenly, it disappeared.

She sat there for a moment, hearing nothing, seeing nothing, and feeling nothing, and it terrified her. Her own breathing seemed so loud that it would wake the entire city of Paris, not to mention her heartbeat. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a form gloved hand slip over her mouth, but as soon as she felt hot breath on her ear, she was instantly calmed.

"Fear not, my love, your angel is here. I did not intend to frighten you." She knew instantly that she was safe, as he pulled his hand away, she knew that no harm would come to her. She felt the Phantom slip one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, and cradling her like a child, he sat on a step and pulled her onto his lap. Christine had forgotten her pain, forgotten the fear that had driven her out of her room, forgotten everything. Her angel was here, holding her, as she had always wanted him to.

'Only,' she thought, 'I wish it weren't so dark, so I could finally see him.'

"Ange de Musique," she whispered, and brought her hand up and smoothed his hair, and he flinched. She continued to bring her hand down the right side of his face, feeling the smoothness of his skin, along the strong slop of his jawbone, down the his chin, and placed her fingers over his lips. He seemed to enjoy the closeness to her, but was apprehensive of her hand on his face. He slipped his arm from beneath her legs, grasped her hand, and pulled it away, kissing it, very gentleman like. 'Why doesn't he want to me to touch his face?'

"Is anything the matter, angel?" He had never been this close to her before. He liked the closeness, yet it left him vulnerable. He realized then, as he sat there cradling Christine as a child, he realized that she wasn't that anymore: a child. 'What is happening to me? This is Christine!'

"No, my dear. It's just, I-" he remembered the actual reason that he was holding her in such a way. "You are injured, darling."

"Oh yes. My ankle. I believe I twisted it when I, well, I fell down the stairs." Christine was now grateful for the darkness, as it hid her face that had reddened when he held her, and surely deepened at this embarrassment.

"Alright, my love." In one swift movement, he was standing, still cradling her, and was surprised at how light she was. Christine had not been carried like this since she was very young, by her father, but somehow she felt secure in his arms. He began the journey back to Christine's room, as he had made sure to put out the candles on his way down. He knew the way far better than Christine, and he couldn't bear for her to see him.

She felt them draw close to her room, and she was disappointed, which slightly surprised and confused her. 'Why should I want to stay in this man's arms like this?' She had been reveling in the closeness with her angel, and didn't want him to return to a mere voice again.

She liked the feel of his thick hair through her fingers and smooth face, and as he carried her, she enjoy being encased within his strong arms and pressed against his muscular chest. Her head moving with the rise and fall of his chest, listening to his heartbeat, which had quickened as she lay in his arms, she felt almost a part of him - an attachment that had been broken off, and felt so right to finally be back in place.

Once again in her room, which she wondered how had become so dark, the Phantom laid her down on her bed, and to her surprise and delight, sat down next to her, and stroked her hair as they spoke, instead of somewhere far off in the shadows, where he was only a voice.

When he thought that she had fallen asleep, he leaned down andplaced a gentle kiss onher forehead, as if to say goodbye, but she spoke again.

"You rescued me." Christine felt his lips form a smile on her face, and she felt like she was seeing him smile, for the very first time, although she could see nothing, and he drew his face upward.

"Well I ask you, what else are angels for?" She sighed happily and threaded her fingers through his, a gesture which he enjoyed, but was unsure why.

"You were more than just my angel tonight."

"Was I now?" He didn't quite know where she was going.

"Yes. You were actually here, holding me. For the first time, I could feel you, not just hear you."

"You liked that, Christine?" She squeezed his hand.

"Yes, I did. I do."

"Well, I'm glad." He released his hand from hers and placed both hands on either side of her face, and placed another kiss on her forehead. Again, Christine was grateful that the darkness concealed her reddening cheeks. "I will write a note for Madame Giry, informing her of your injury. Do not get out of bed until she sees you, understand, my dear? I doubt that you will dance anytime soon." Christine sighed, but truly couldn't be upset, with her angel so close.

"Yes, Master. Will you sing for me please?"

"Of course, my angel."

"Oh, please Madame Giry! I won't be injured!"

"Christine, you are already injured. If you dance, it will only become worse! I will not allow you to do that.Your ankleis already swollen to twice it's normal size, look!"

"Well, what shall I do this whole time, lay in bed and rot?"

"Read. Study. Whatever you like. You finally have your own time, use it to your advantage, my dear." Christine was growing frustrated.

"So I'm just supposed to stay in bed for, God knows how long, to let my ankle heal? Madame, forgive the impertinence, but I will go mad!"

"Mademoiselle, don't argue. Besides, I understand you have a...friend here, to keep to accompanied."

"Madame Giry, how ever did you know?" The woman laughed softly.

"He left me the note about your ankle, do you not remember?" Christine smiled weakly. "The Opera Ghost seems quite fond of you, Christine." Christine blushed.

"He looks after me. He always has. I met him before I met you, and he saved me last night."

"Oh, I did mean to ask you. What happened? You went to bed unharmed and awoke with a possibly broken ankle. Quite unusual, I must say." Christine proceeded to tell this woman who had become like a mother to her, about her adventure last night, leaving out the details of how she felt in his arms, and that he had stayed behind talking to her softly, gently stroking her hair and holding her hand. These things seemed inappropriate to talk about, but felt extremely right to do. To Christine's relief, Madame didn't press for details, and there was no need to li, and she didn't seem disapproving. She simply smiled and said, "Well, rest up, Christine dear. I'm sure you will be in good company,"and walked out of the room.

"Angel?"

"Yes, my beautiful?" Christine didn't know quite why, but it made her feel funny when he called her beautiful, and the possessive my only added to it. It was a good funny though, like someone was tickling her insides with a feather, and she didn't understand it, but she liked it. 'What is happening?' She had forgotten, with just a simple statement, everything else that had been going through her mind, including what she had intended to say.

"Oh, I um...I, oh!" The Phantom laughed softly, calming, not condescending. "Oh, yes! You are not upset that I told Madame Giry about you, are you? It seemed that she pretty much knew, that I should be truthful, you do send her letters and such after all."

"Yes, my girl, many people do know of me, but very few actually know me. As a person, with a soul and feelings, is what I mean. No one really, except you, and Giry. She rescued me from abandonment, many years ago, and brought me here to live, as she had you. She is a very kind woman, despite her strict outward appearance."

"Yes, I know that. Why were you abandoned, Master, and by who?" Phantom sighed.

"You should listen to Madame, and get some rest, child."

"Yes, my glorious angel. Sing for me?"

"A pleasure." He sang until he believed her to be asleep, and she pretended to be asleep until she believed him to be gone. In reality, he was content to watch over her in her sleep, and she pretended to get some time alone. He remained silent as he watched her open her eyes and stare at the ceiling, and blink away a tear. He couldn't bear to see her in so much despair, but he felt helpless. After all these years, she missed her father dearly. Phantom looked at the floor, until suddenly, he heard a voice. He didn't know that this child had such a voice within her.

Christine loved her angel, but she was realizing now, that he wasn't the same as a father.

"You were once my one companion,

You were all that mattered,

You were once a friend and father,

Then my world was shattered."

The Phantom didn't know what to do. He had no idea that Christine sang, or that she had so much pain inside her. Although she had closed her eyes again though, he knew that she wasn't asleep.

"Forgive the intrusion, my dear."

"Oh, Ange! I thought you had left!"

"I was about to, darling, when I heard your voice. It is lovely."

"Oh, well I was just, I mean, thank you." Christine felt her cheeks turn pink a this compliment. 'I wonder...with a little training...'

"Christine, may I ask if there is something you might be interested in?"

A/N: Oh, well, wasn't that fun? This was meant to be two chapters, but I didn't want to draw it out. Also, if you haven't caught on to what Ange de Musique means by now, well then, you shouldn't be interested in stories that take place in Paris!

Thank you so much, Nadiir and PhantomPhan1911, for your encouraging reviews!