Title:Leave Me to Love
Author: i Megaphone (Formerly known as Fickle Girl)
Rating: T, for adult themes, language, and violence.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from The Phantom of the Opera. I do not own the lyrics from Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of the Opera Musical. I do not own anything but the plot and certain characters.
Summary: Raoul and Christine have been happily married for sixteen years. The love they share has produced their only child, a daughter. When she goes to live at the newly rebuilt Opera Populaire, will history repeat itself?
Chapter Three:
Footsteps could be heard racing down the marble staircase in the early hours of the morning. A young girl flew down them quickly, giving onlookers the illusion that she was flying downward. She ran down a long corridor, not paying attention to anything around her. Maids looked on in shock as she came to an abrupt halt before two large wooden doors. She stood there for a few moments, catching her breath, and raised a hand to fix her long unruly crown of chestnut curls. After a few more moments of heavy breathing, she pushed open the doors and squealed in delight.
"Oh, Papa, you're finally home," Amalia breathed, flinging her arms around him, and embracing him tightly. She placed her head on his chest, and smiled silently. She had missed her father terribly these past few weeks. The usual joyous atmosphere did not feel the same without him.
Raoul ran his fingers through his daughter's hair, lovingly twirling the ringlets around them. He bent down, and placed a kiss upon her head, pushing her away, but keeping her at arms length. Studying her carefully, he was shocked by the changes he saw in her. He hadn't thought it possible that she could get any more beautiful. The eyes that mirrored his own were full of love, and the specks of green within the clear blue danced with happiness. Yes, his dear daughter had his eyes, but she was all her mother in every other way. Christine's features were all in their daughter, right down to her graceful mannerisms. He was amazed at how much Amalia had truly turned into a replica of her mother. If it hadn't been for her eyes, he'd have thought them twins. His daughter's lovely voice shook him out of his musings.
"Papa, I'm so glad that you are home. Maman and I have missed you. These past few weeks have been completely unbearable without your presence. I feared that maman would go mad if you did not return soon." She bit her lip nervously at the thought. It was true; her mother really had been at a loss the second her father had left. The love her parents shared was inspiring. She envied it in a way, but secretly, secretly she longed for a love just like theirs. She stared at her dear father, memorizing his handsome face. Her mother had told her tales of the life they had had before she had been born. The stories were so romantic, like something out of a novel. Through their years of marriage, they had aged, but the love they shared only grew stronger. Although, there were times when the happiness disappeared, and was replaced with bouts of sadness. She had never fully understood why these times took place, but from what she could see, her mother had been through a terrible event in the past.
Raoul watched as his daughter drifted deep into thought. He knew that look, his loving wife had the same look plastered on her face when times were bad, or when memories of the past invaded their perfect utopia. He did not like that look, it only brought pain and anguish later on. He placed his hand against his daughter's cool cheek, trying to gain her attention.
"Amalia," he said softly, caressing her cheek. She looked at him quickly, the doubt vanishing from her eyes. "Amalia, where is your maman," he questioned, concern filling his face. The entire time he had been gone, he had been worried about Christine. She never took well to his leaving. In fact, she constantly begged him to stay with her. The pain of past events had made her desperate. She feared for his safety. She feared that the man who had turned their world upside down would reappear, creating havoc once again.
Time and time again, Raoul had assured his wife that they were safe, that nothing would harm them. Still, she could never rest easy. This time had been the worst. She had pleaded with him, begging him to stay with her. She had embraced him tightly, sobs wracking her body. He had not wanted to leave her, but duty had forced him to go. The absence of Christine at the moment made him uneasy.
Amalia shivered as her father's gaze changed. The way he was looking at her made her uncomfortable. "Papa, maman is in the study. She has been there since early this morning. I shall call for her, yes?"
"No, I shall surprise her. I have a gift for her." Amalia's face lit up at the mention of gifts. He smirked at his daughter's face. He had wondered how long it would be until she mentioned what he had been waiting to hear since his return.
"Papa, a gift? Do you know what day tomorrow is," she prodded, waiting for her father to answer her. He couldn't have possibly forgotten. She was sure of this. He never forgot…
A look of pure triumph spread across his face, as he heard his daughter utter those words. He knew exactly what tomorrow was, but he decided to play dumb, wanting to see his child's reaction. "Hmm," he sighed. False confusion covered his eyes, as he looked straight into Amalia's. "Tomorrow? Well, tomorrow is Wednesday of course!"
Her face fell as her father's outburst pierced her soul. He had forgotten. She branded herself a fool. Her father had forgotten the most important day of her life. She moved away from him, and slumped into the nearest chair.
Raoul frowned; this was not the reaction he had expected. He knew she would be disappointed, but he had not thought she would retreat into herself. He walked toward her, placing his fingers under her chin, forcing her to look at him.
"My sweet child, do you really think me that thoughtless? How could I ever forget what tomorrow brings? Your sixteenth birthday shall be celebrated, just as it should be."
Her eyes widened as she processed what her father had just said. He hadn't forgotten! She jumped up, embracing him. "Oh, Papa, you have made me so happy," she exclaimed, laughing as he twirled her around in his arms. He placed her down gently, and then pulled a box out of his pocket, which she noticed rather quickly.
"Amalia, I saw this while I was in London, and knew you would cherish it," he explained, placing the small box into her hands.
She examined the box, turning it. Slowly, she opened it. She gave a small gasp, as the realization of what was inside hit her. "Papa, it's beautiful! Oh, I love it," she cried, tears springing to her happy eyes. She smiled joyfully. The silver chain was long and cool. A diamond dove hung from it.
When she had been a child, her parents had taken her to their summer home in London. She had been very young, about five, and her father had taken her to a meadow. She had run around, picking flowers. Her father had placed his hand upon her head, and moved her gaze toward a large oak tree. A dove sat on a branch, its white feathers contrasting greatly against the dark oak. At that moment, Amalia had declared herself a dove as well.
She smiled fondly at the memory, and embraced her father one last time. "Papa, I thank you for this gift. It means more than you shall ever know. I love you," she uttered, and placed a kiss to his cheek.
At that moment, a maid ran in, calling for Amalia. She left, leaving Raoul to his quiet thoughts of Christine. He decided to find her, and left to go to the study.
Walking into the large room, he looked around. "Christine," he called, waiting for an answer.
"Raoul, oh Raoul," a voice cried, and suddenly he was pulled into the loving embrace of his dear wife.
He pulled her to him, inhaling her scent. He was finally home. "My love, I missed you terribly," Raoul said softly, placing a kiss against her lips.
She kissed him back desperately, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Raoul, Raoul, I missed you. Raoul, I love you. Oh, Raoul, don't ever leave me again. Please, promise me that you will not leave me again. Promise me, please," she pleaded, holding onto him firmly.
"My love, you know that I cannot make that promise. I would only end up breaking it, and I do not want to do that. You know that I do not want to leave you, but I have a responsibility to keep. Darling, you know that I want to be with you," he explained, placing her face between his hands. God, he loved his woman far too much. At that moment, he wished that he could take all her pain away.
"I am sorry, darling. I was being silly. I know that you must leave at times, but alas, I am selfish when it comes to you. I wish that you did not have to leave so frequently. When you are gone, I feel as though a part of me has left as well."
"Christine…Christine, I do not deserve you," he sighed.
She giggled, and pulled him against her. "My love, you are everything to me, and I you. Oh, I love you," she murmured, kissing him once more. The kiss turned passionate, and she found herself being swept up into his arms.
The events that followed were a blur to her as clothing was shed, and two bodies became one.
A/N:
Yes, yes, I threw in some fluff for all you R/C lovers. All is well at the moment, but that will change very soon.
Coming up: Amalia's birthday gala begins, and strange things start to happen. Muwaha.
I'd like to thank everyone who has left reviews. It truly does mean a lot to me. :)