Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera. It belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber and Gaston Leroux. I only own the plot
Author's note: Sorry it's been a while. I had a bit of a writers block and school started. I'm not sure how often I'll get to add chapters but I'll try and do my best. Oh, and I decided this is going to be R/C. There are too many E/C things and there needs to be something different. Plus, I think R/C is cute. If you don't like it, deal with it! Hope you enjoy this chapter. Nothing really happens in the plot. It's basically a fluff chapter but every story needs one of those I guess.
Chapter 3
Erik stood hidden behind a door in the Vicomte's foyer, pondering whether or not he should run out and snatch the unconscious Christine. If he succeeded, he could take Christine prisoner and somehow brainwash her to fall in love with him. Even though he'd be living a lie, at least he could live with the only woman he would ever love. Erik thought of this idea too long though, because Raoul burst into the room.
"DAMN" Erik swore under his breath. Oh well, he thought to himself, if you don't succeed, try, try again. The opera ghost scurried from the scene, unseen by anyone.
Christine's eyes fluttered open. Raoul was hovering over her with a very worried look on his face. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her maid, Madeleine, standing idle, looking a bit nervous.
"Christine, dear, what happened?" Raoul asked anxiously, "I heard a loud a loud thump and when I came in, you were on the floor."
Christine wasn't sure herself what had happened. She was almost positive that that voice was that of her angel, but she could have easily imagined it. One thing was for certain though, whatever that voice was, it terrified her.
"I…I thought I heard Erik threatening me through the wall," Christine replied in a shaky voice, "I may have imagined it but I highly doubt it."
A feeling deep down inside Raoul made him believe the frightened young lady beside him. Erik had done some very amazing, but terrible things in the past and stalking Christine through the walls was just another one of those things he could add to his list. The Vicomte suddenly didn't feel safe in his own home. He glanced over at Christine, sitting up on her bed, looking around the room. Raoul could see her bright, brown eyes darting back and forth, as if searching for a masked man lurking in the shadows.
"I think I need to go out and get some air," Christine said quietly. Chills were going up and down her spine as she thought of what Erik would have done if Raoul hadn't gotten to her first. She couldn't believe that the thought that she missed the phantom ever crossed her mind.
"I'll go with you," Raoul hastily stated. His beloved Christine wasn't going anywhere alone when that deformed man could be lurking around every corner.
Christine got up and smoothed her dress. She would have preferred to go alone but she could understand why Raoul would be concerned. Plus, he seemed very fidgety and nervous. It was almost comical, the way Raoul acted when he was worked up. He needed to go out for some fresh air too. Christine noticed that as soon as she started walking towards the door, Madeleine rushed over to smooth out the bed. These maids are all compulsive neat freaks, she thought to herself as she made her way out the door.
In a few short minutes, the couple found themselves in the garden. Christine glared against the bright sunlight and tried to keep herself her self from fainting again. She was still feeling a bit woozy from her fall. Once her eyes adjusted to the light, she gazed around at the sight that beheld her.
Neat rows of tulips lined a neatly stoned pathway that wound lazily all through the garden. A large variety of fruit trees stood idly off to the side. Gardeners tended to the bushes and didn't seem to notice Raoul and Christine's arrival. Christine breathed in the sweet perfume the flowers gave off while Raoul led her through the garden, her hand clutched in his.
The couple soon forgot all about their troubles with Erik. They felt like small children again, running around and giggling. Christine even began to sing, something she had been frightened to do since that night when the phantom took her down to make her his bride.
That clear, beautiful voice, plucked at the strings in Erik's heart as he stood behind a large rose bush, hidden from view. He still couldn't fathom the idea of his beloved Christine loving anyone more than him, her angel of music.
"I may have failed once," the phantom grumbled under his breath, "but it's not ever yet."