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 Five:

The gasps and applause that rang out as Amalia walked down the staircase did not faze her. She knew that these people put on a show. These people did not know her, but they did know of her fortune. She could see the young men who would later ask her to dance staring at her with their hungry eyes. She could see the mother's of these men thinking of ways to get her mother to invite them to tea. These people, who all stood there clapping for her, were nothing but greedy, selfish fiends. They did not know anything but what their narrow minded families had taught them, and their gazes sickened her. She had promised herself that for her parents' sake, she would put up with their madness. Every birthday had been spent with these people, would one more be so hard? She hoped not, for she could not be responsible for the actions she would take if this evening overwhelmed her.

Her fathers arm held hers tightly as they made their way to the bottom, and as he disentangled himself from her, a rush of ice cold fear ran through her insides. His warmth had made her feel safe, but as he moved to her mother she wanted to cry out for his attention. The vultures were beginning to swarm toward her, and she felt sweat begin to form beneath her corset. The trembling began, and she reached for the nearest object to grab. When nothing came into contact with her hand, she closed her eyes and knew the worst was about to happen. She began to wonder how long it would take, because she did not feel the cool marble of the floor against her body. A warmth pressed against her, and she realized that she had not fallen. This warmth was not her father, but someone else. The arms that held her were strong, and did not let go until she was steady.

A man's voice rang into her head as she turned to face her savior. "Mademoiselle, are you all right," he asked, as he placed his hand on hers. His voice was melodic, it's tone soft, but deep. It was a beautiful voice, and she longed to hear more of it. She lifted her head to look at him, and gasped as she realized who he was.

"You, you're that man," she cried, as she stepped away from him, and pressed her back against the wall. This man, the man who had saved her from humiliation, was the same man who had sparked her attention when she had been in her room out on the balcony. His gaze had burned right through her, and here he stood, a look of shock written across his face. Or half a face, his other half was still hidden beneath that mask. An urge to remove the mask coursed through her, but she shook it away. This man, with his beautiful voice and strong arms had saved her, and she could do nothing but stare at him with a look of fright.

He moved close to her, and her breathing became erratic. This was not right, he was far too close. His warm breath surrounded her, and she began to feel dizzy. Her knees would go out soon, and she would be prey to him. "What man am I," he asked with a smug tone. The wall could have been a part of her at that moment, but she could have cared less. He was too close for comfort, and she couldn't move away from him. Did she want to? Her mother would have been furious if she had seen what was going on.

Gathering up enough strength to speak, she looked up at him and smiled. "You, my dear man, are my savior. I am quite sorry for my outburst; I was just so surprised by your sudden assistance. Please accept my apology, Monsieur, I did not mean to sound ungrateful."

He smiled down at her and put out his hand. She took it willingly, not really knowing why. "Mademoiselle, you need not apologize. I could not have let you fall, you could have been harmed. What person deserves that on their birthday? No, I could not let your party be ruined, I had to save you from that," he explained as they made their way to the ball room.

Amalia felt dizzy as his scent spread to her nose. He smelled of spice and leather, and it was the most wonderful scent she had ever come to know. This stranger was mysterious, and it only made her feel fainter. This man, this man who had helped her was amazing, and she wanted to know more. She wanted to know his secrets and most inner desires. She wanted to know everything about him, and it frightened her. These foreign feelings were taking over her entire being, and she had not known this man for more than an hour. Could this truly be happening?

She was thrown out of her thoughts as the loud music flew around her. This man walked with her into the ball room and beckoned her to follow him. They reached the dancing circle, and he placed his hand upon her waist. A spark hit her quickly, and she wanted more. His other hand held hers firmly, his movements guiding hers. She was lost in a different world where only they existed, and she never wanted to leave. His warmth was intoxicating, driving her to madness. She could no longer hear the band. A different melody began to fill her senses as they continued to dance. Words swam around her mind, words that she had never heard before. They hypnotized her, but she welcomed them. These words were taking over as the melody grew louder, and she felt as though she was spinning. His breath fell upon her neck, making her eyes close. She was no longer in control, the music had taken over.

What raging fire shall flood the soul…?

What rich desire unlocks its door…?

What sweet seduction lies before us…?

These words rang through her head, making her want more. They continued on, her dream like state growing more at each moment. It was like she had been hit with a spell that struck her numb of all feelings but desire. These were things she had never felt before, and at this moment in time she wondered how she had lived without it. How could one survive without desire? This man had done something, bewitched her, she was sure of it. But for some reason, she didn't care. The dance continued on, consuming her senses for what seemed like an eternity.

Christine sighed for what seemed like the thousandth time that night. Her guests had tired her out with constant questions about Amalia. Many women had introduced their sons to her, hoping to spark an interest. Christine saw through this, but humored them any way. Over the years she had grown accustomed to these things. It saddened her, but humbled her as well, for she knew that she would never be like them.

This night was supposed to be for Amalia, but all she could think about were these people. She felt ashamed, and quickly changed her thoughts to much happier things. Her darling daughter was sixteen, it was such a shock. It had seemed like she had been an infant only yesterday. The years had gone by so quickly, but each and every moment with her family had been burned into her mind. Their life was so precious to her; she had done everything in her power to keep the ones she loved safe. She had succeeded so far, and prayed that it could go on forever.

Her marriage was strong; Raoul had been the perfect husband through all the good times and bad. He had been a constant, and she cherished him deeply. He had been a wonderful father to their daughter, and had made sure that she had been given a childhood full of love and happiness. Raoul was perfect in her eyes, and even though he told her not to, she told him that as much as she could. He deserved to know how amazing he was. She was proud to be his wife, and she hoped that he knew that.

"Darling, where have you gone to," Raoul questioned, his voice filling her thoughts. She shook her head, and turned to look at him. He looked so handsome, almost identical to what he had looked like the night of the Masque so many years ago.

"Oh, I was just thinking about our beautiful life, and my wonderful husband," she whispered softly to him, a smile spreading across her face as blush began to creep across his cheeks. He opened his mouth to say something, but she didn't give him a chance. She quickly pressed her lips to his, not caring about the guests who looked on in disapproval. The feelings that coursed through her when she kissed him erupted, and a quiet moan escaped her lips as he snaked his hand around her back. She hoped this moment would last as long as it could, but as that thought crossed her mind, a shriek invaded its importance, and knocked it out of orbit.

Christine looked around quickly, trying to find the interruption. Raoul grasped her hand and lead her to the crowd that had formed near the doors. A feeling of fear began to form in the pit of her stomach, and memories from many years ago flashed through her mind. She squeezed Raoul's hand, and gazed at him. He had a fearful look in his eyes, and she became terrified. If this frightened her husband, it had to be bad. The crowd moved to let them through, and Christine cried out in horror. She ripped her hand away from Raoul, and fell to her knees, clutching her stomach. She could hear the guests speaking in hushed tones, disturbed by her actions. She felt Raoul wrap his arms around her, whispering words she could no longer understand. Her worst fear had finally come true; The Phantom of the Opera had returned, and he wanted revenge.

She let out another strangled cry, and began to weep. "Raoul, Raoul, he's come back! Whatever will we do? He'll never let me go, he'll never let me go," she screamed, as the darkness began to take over her weak body.

And he'll always be there singing songs in my head…he'll always be there singing songs in my head…

Raoul de Chagny was livid. Someone had to be playing a sick joke on his family. His hands clutched the note that had been left on the floor. Along with the note had been half a mask, and a red rose. This had not been at all amusing, and once everything calmed down, the culprit would be found and dealt with.

His poor Christine had been shaken to her core with fright, and this made him even more furious. This trick had hurt his wife, and he could not allow it to go on. Someone wanted to harm his family, and he would not let that happen. He would not let the ghost of so many years ago rip his family apart; he would do everything in his power to prevent it from happening.

He walked over to Christine and stretched out beside her. She hadn't woken yet, and he wanted to be there when she did. He had to assure her that no one was coming to get her. No one was going to harm her, or their daughter. She had been muttering in her sleep, thrashing around violently. Tears were stained to her face, and she was as pale as a ghost. His heart broke just looking at her. She looked so fragile, and he was afraid to touch her. He did not want to break her; he wanted to keep her safe.

He kissed her head, and began to whisper words of love into her ear. The doctor had said that she would be able to hear him, and that comforting words would help rouse her from the state she was currently in.

"Little Lotte, my darling, you must wake up. I promise you, you are safe. No one shall harm you as long as I am alive, I would never allow it. Love, I need you to open your beautiful eyes. Amalia needs you, it's still her birthday, would you really want to miss it? Christine…Christine…I beg of you, please wake up," he went on, willing her to awaken.

Just as he was about to admit defeat, she began to stir. Her eyes fluttered open, and she sat up quickly, looking around the room wildly. "Raoul, he's back! Oh, he's going to take me, we'll be parted forever; he will never let me go. He's never let me go, and now he's come to make sure I can never get away! Raoul, please, don't let him take me," she threw herself into his embrace and began to weep like a wounded child. He could take no more of this, and made a promise to himself that he would personally take care of whoever had caused his love so much distress.

Amalia could not remember how she had come to be in the courtyard. The lights still shimmered around her, and she smiled as her mysterious savior sat down beside her. Their dance had been intoxicating; it had been unlike anything she had ever believed to be possible. The spark that had run through her only grew stronger as she sat in the company of him. He did not speak much, but she realized that she did not mind. The silence was soothing to her, and seemed to be much more idealistic than hushed whispers of desire.

"Mademoiselle, this night has been very interesting. You are unlike anyone I have ever met, and I mean that as a compliment. There is an inferno that burns inside you, but you try to keep it from emerging. I must tell you that by doing this, you are repressing emotions that are only human. Your soul cries out, but you deny it. Why? I do not understand, for I know that the outcome will only lead to heartache. A beautiful woman like you should not ever know what comes from that kind of ache." He took her hand into his, making her skin break out into goose bumps. The gesture was a simple one, but to her it was erotic, and made her long for things she had not known existed until this night.

"Monsieur, you speak as though you know what this ache feels like. Am I right to assume that you have been through what you just described to me? Should I not think that you are speaking from experience, and that your words are meant to guide me into making the right choices? If they are not, I apologize, but I must tell you that I am considering your words, and that I find you fascinating." Amalia could feel the tinge of red spread across her face. How could she speak so freely with someone she did not know? Her mother would have been so angry if she had been here to witness it.

She noticed him falter for a moment, and appreciated it. He had finally proved himself to be human, to be real, and she could truly be sure that this was not all a dream. His voice began to fill her ears again, making her dizzy. "My words are meant to help you, to prepare you for choices that you will soon have to make. I know the outcome of both, but I highly suggest that you let life in, and don't hide from emotions that we all feel. Why waste life, it is far too precious and short," he stood up quickly, knocking her out of the trance she had just been in. Was he leaving? No, he couldn't leave yet!

She raced after him, grabbing his arm. "Please, you cannot go! I don't even know your name," she cried out, making him whirl around and stare at her.

He cupped her face, and smiled gently. "Do not worry, we shall meet again," he whispered, and ran out into the darkness that was the night.

She could still sense his touch on her skin, it was smoldering her. If she had not known better, she would have thought that his imprint had been burned onto her body.

A/N:

Well, what do you think? Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. It means a lot, and keeps me going.

Next chapter will be up when I have some time.