Here we go! Hope you guys like it so far! There's an excerpt from Kay's version in this chapter. I paraphrazed it. NO OWN! NO SUE!
Nico
Christine's eyelids began to slide down, obscuring her view of the book she held in her hands as she lay in bed.
Each time sleep threatened to overcome her, she shifted her position, forcing her tired body to remain awake.
She would never admit it, but she was actually looking forward to the haunting voice that had been visiting her for the last year or so.
The voice never seemed to visit until she was nearly asleep, too exhausted to investigate its origins.
Tonight, Christine was determined to see just who…or what…had been lulling her gently to sleep, watching over her and seemingly protecting her from horrors she could not…or would not…identify.
The ancient pocket watch Christine kept next to her bed read exactly midnight. It had been some time since she had stayed up this late. Usually her muscles were too tired from dancing all day to be preoccupied with staying up late…
But tomorrow morning, rehearsals had been cancelled. It seemed Madame Giry was suffering from a slight case of the flu and had decided that it was best for her, and her esteemed group of ballerinas, to catch up on some much needed sleep.
So Christine decided she would do whatever it took to remain awake, knowing that she would be able to sleep well past the normal 5am wake-up call in the morning.
Realizing that staying in bed was not helping her cause, Christine quickly flipped her comforter from her body, revealing a thin, white nightshift. Stockings hugged her legs, fighting off the chill in the air.
She padded around her small room, rubbing warmth back into her arms.
She stopped as she stood before the mirror.
She could swear she heard the sound of a quick intake of breath…
Erik backed up slightly from the mirror with a gasp as Christine came to stand before it. Never before had he had such an unobstructed view of her perfect, porcelain face…her young, firm body…her impossibly thick, golden brown hair. He had always remained just far enough away to prevent gazing upon his ideology of perfection…but now, there was nothing to do but stare.
She seemed to be looking right into his eyes, although Erik was certain she could not see him. Her brow was furrowed, as if the mirror held the key to some terrible mystery.
When she reached out to allow her fingertips to graze the smooth glass before her, Erik mimicked the action, letting his own fingers follow the motion of hers.
Pain ebbed into his soul. It seemed that he would always be separated from the rest of the world by a thin barrier he could not shatter, no matter how hard he tried.
Memories of his fifth birthday began to flood into his mind…memories of his first attempt to break down the glass that separated him from his mother.
"Will you get me a present, Mother?" He asked upon learning of the first birthday celebration he was ever to have.
His mother had looked down at him as if the question surprised her. "Of course," she replied mechanically. "What do you want?"
Erik had considered the question. "Can I have anything I want?"
"Within reason," his mother replied.
"Can I have two? One for now and one for later?"
"Oh out with it Erik! I'm tired of your silly games!" His mother suddenly exploded, as was her nature.
Erik hunched his shoulders, his voice coming weakly as he voiced his request. "I want two kisses," he told her. "One for now, and one to save for later."
It still pained him to remember the fury with which his mother had responded to his childlike request…to his simple need to feel loved…from the one person who was supposed to love him unconditionally.
His hand fell away from Christine's.
At the same time, she spoke.
"Who are you?" She wondered aloud.
Erik held back his breath, too intrigued by her question…by the thoughts swirling in her head...to retreat back into the darkness.
"How is it possible," Christine continued. "How is it possible to love just a voice…to be in love with just a voice?"
Erik was taken aback. Love? She spoke of love?
But surely…
Surely no one could love him…
Christine sighed, returning once more to her bed.
Erik watched for what seemed to be hours.
He was sure she was asleep until she spoke again…
"Goodnight, my angel of music," she sighed, effectively breaking his heart.
Without a moment's hesitation, Erik lifted the small, silver lever that allowed the mirror to swing open, eliminating one more barrier.