:A/N: So, finally back on writing! Yes, I know 'Far Cry' is desperately waiting to be written on. But right now, I'm not in the mood for writing a funny fanfic full of love. To be honest, my heart is with the One-Shots I write about Mme Giry and Erik. That's just what my heart really says. But hopefully you're not too angry with me.

---- I hope this fanfic makes sense----

:Disclaimer: I don't own POTO, although I'd love to have Mme Giry! Poem: It's by A. Pushkin. Is it allowed to write down poems on here? If it isn't, I'm sorry. Clearly stating it's not mine.

:Claimer: The plot's mine. Don't steal it. With One-Shots, stealing is a very big deal. Just leave your fingers off it.

:Summary: I wouldn't sleep until I would have found him, him, he who was worth your love… There I sat, watching your wedding… hoping I wouldn't wake up and take a glimpse of you with me. (Erik/MmeGiry)

This should actually have been beta-read by L.-M.-V.-T., but I couldn't wait putting it up. I'm so sorry. She'll beta-read it and I'll post the corrected version again! Sry!

:The Bride:

For J.

I sat down next to the hole in the wall, trying to get a view of you.

You. The bride. There you were, walking into the small chapell of the Opera House, surrounded by other dancers, arm in arm with your soon-to-be husband, slightly leaning against him while walking. Your smile ran shivers down my spine. Your expression claimed how full of joy you were that day; how many wrinkles your wedding must have cost you from smiling! But they'd make you much more beautiful. Nothing destroys your perfection. Nothing.

I took a look at the groom, wondering whether he was good enough to be by your side. Although things change with time, although husband and wife usually forget their love after a couple of years, I wondered whether it would be the same with him. Maybe he wasn't good enough? Maybe there was something better out there, waiting to get under your lovely eyes? – Waiting to be relieved from the dreadful life he's been living? – Waiting to have a single word from you to forever stand all the wounds life gives him. Was he good enough for you? Was anybody good enough?

I shook my head, taking a look of the other girls in the chapel to not start to cry or scream out loud. Oh God, I'd most likely choose your groom myself, or at least I thought so. I wouldn't sleep until I would have found him, him, he who was worth your love. It would be so difficult. He should be perfect. He should be just as good as you are, just as beautiful, just as worthy. Everything else might be so bad it might hurt you. And I sweared to God that day, whoever hurts you would suffer immensely.

There I sat, watching your wedding. By time, the priest was already praying his usual prayers.

You invited me to your wedding. A note on my bed said you'd be happy to have me watch the ceremony that day. You knew I loved you. You knew with every breath you took that I loved you more than my life.

How I still love to remember every moment with you. When you brought me into the Opera, you were the only shelter I had. You were everything to me. I tried to hide it first, but there was no escape for my feelings. I needed desperately to reveal them to you, to give you a small glimpse of how I felt. Today, years later, oh how I love looking back. It makes up for all the lonely days, the rainy days, the days without you. A single look, a single world, and I'd fall asleep to never awaken again happily.

You loved me, too.

But as the wise say: Time goes by.

And it did.

I don't blame you. It's time. Nobody's fault. We aimed for being together, but we couldn't. Time... time... time...

So there I was, watching the bride's wedding. The bride my heart had already married ages ago. The bride who gave in into a relationship that was incredibly emotional, undefeatable. As the wise say. Time gives. But takes, too.

I cannot describe how I woke up that day. Something deep inside me cried out loud and sang a lonely song. My hands tried to touch the world again, wake up from the nightmare I've had, I dreamed you'd marry somebody else – but as I awoke, the note lay next to me. I had taken it with me to sleep, hoping I wouldn't wake up and take a glimpse of you with me.

Your wedding.

You seemed so happy. You'd be fine. He'd be the happiest, luckiest, oh how to describe it, the most cheerful man the world has ever seen!

I wished you luck.

Nobody cared about where I'd go that night. I watched your ball, watched you swirl around with your groom, oh what I say, husband. I swallowed every detail of your neck, your hair, the way your fingers moved. I'll never forget you.

But that day is gone. Not to be taken back. And now? And today?

As long as your smile shines on the world, and there is no tear that rolles down your cheek except a joyful one, my heart will remain quiet. It won't say a single thing. The Phantom's heart stopped saying things ages ago, ages, long long times, eternities... It won't think a single thing. It's not there, because you stole it. And who wouldn't want his heart to be stolen by such a charming looter?

I Loved You

I loved you; even now I may confess,
Some embers of my love their fire retain;
But do not let it cause you more distress,
I do not want to sadden you again.
Hopeless and tonguetied, yet I loved you dearly
With pangs the jealous and the timid know;
So tenderly I loved you, so sincerely,
I pray God grant another love you so.

Alexander Pushkin