A/N: I don't care if the French do or don't celebrate Valentines Day! In my story, they do!

Red Rose

Chapter VII: Drift into Happiness

February 14, 1873

(Three days after Christine's illness)

Waking up to darkness made it difficult to determine whether it was morning or night.

Christine's eyelids fluttered open. Something with a delightful aroma managed to intrigue her senses. She dug her fingers into the blood red pillow, breathing in its fragrance. Ms. Daae held the soft bedding under her chin. Erik…it was Erik's scent…

Where was Erik?

Over on the dresser, lay a single long-stemmed rose, tied with a black satin ribbon. It served as a paper weight for the note that sat underneath it.

'My Dear Christine,

If you should awaken, and find me not here, do not worry. I have merely gone out on a final errand to bring you your medicine. I also supply for you, the morning paper. I know you like to keep up with the current events of our city. My managers were kind enough to lend me with their copy. Although, I strongly advise you, to skip over the headline story, as I find it to be rather disappointing on your behalf.

I shall return shortly,

Erik

PTO

Happy Valentines Day…

I hope you find comfort in this home, which is yours.'

"Valentines Day? I'd completely forgotten!" Her eyes widened as she placed a hand over her lips in shock. "I'll read the paper later. I must get something fro Erik! Oh, he'll be furious if he finds me out, but…I'll be back in no time!"

……………..

"Andre! Andre!" M. Firmin searched through his office, tirelessly. "Where is it? For the love of god, where is-"

"What is it, Richard? You're acting like a crazy person!" He appeared in the doorway, with a grave expression upon his face.

"My paper! One moment, it's on my desk! And the next- gone!"

"Get yourself another one then. Is that so hard?" Moncharmin let out a deep sigh, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling.

"He took it!"

"Who?"

" O.G., of course! He's back, my fellow! Ms. Daae's return! It triggered something in that genius mind of his!"

The manager patted the air, trying to calm down his hilarious partner. "Now, now! It's just the paper! No harm in taking a paper…"

Richard Firmin sat down at his desk, leaning over it with arms outstretched. "I suppose you're right."

A soft knock was heard on the door.

"Come in!" Andre bellowed.

The ballet instructor gracefully made her entrance into the room, carrying a wrapped up paper in her left hand. "He wishes me to give this to you, monsieur. He is most thankful." Madame Giry slapped it down in front of the two. "It is mine, but you are welcome in using it."

"Yes, thank-thank you madame." Firmin replied shakily while accepted it.

"Happy Valentines Day, gentlemen." She gave a curt nod to them both, and walked out, closing the entrance behind her.

"Did she say…Valentines Da-?"

"I believe she did…" Andre stared almost nervously in his direction.

The men let out a bit of a scream.

………………

"Give these to him! Belgian chocolates are the best! Mother gave them to me, but you need them more…"

Christine sat with Meg in the, once again hers, dressing room. Was it her, or was Meg avoiding eye contact?

"Meg, is there something you wish to tell me?"

She placed the box of chocolates over to the side, and gazed at Christine with utter most sympathy. "You didn't read today's headline, did you?"

"No, I haven't yet…"

"Perhaps you should." Meg reached out and passed her a stack of papers. There it was, in bold letters, that day's story.

'M. le Victome de Chagny: Critical Care

On February 11th, Paris discovered M. Raoul de Chagny critically injured on the streets in front of M. Andre and Firmin's opera populaire. Beside him in the snow, were the footprints of a rather large horse, coming to the conclusion that M. Chagny must've met himself with the beast. The carriage driver was immensely upset, and declares that Raoul seemed to walk right into him. There was quite a commotion, as the town rushed the viscount off to the nearest hospital. Although M. Raoul seems to be in horrible shape, the young man refuses to die. We only wonder where Ms. Christine Daae was at the time of the accident. Where is the girl now? She is surely dedicated to him, and finds it hard to leave his side.'

She looked up from the page. "I didn't know-"

"It's not your fault. Christine, look at your wrists! He deserved it."

"I don't know bout that-" Her eyes burned from coming tears.

"Don't feel guilty for being with someone who truly cares about you! You don't need anymore pain!" Little Giry hoisted herself from the sofa and opened the mirror's door.

"This is a day of love; don't ruin it for him…"

Christine nodded, quickly blotting her tears.

"Don't forget the chocolates!"

……………

"Happy Valentines Day, Erik!" Christine was there when the man walked onto his home. She smiled sweetly at him, as he walked over to the dresser to pick up the medicine cup.

"You sound happy, this afternoon. This makes me happy as well." He retrieved a small bottle from inside his black cloak, and poured a red syrup into the drinking utensil. It looked unappealing in the eyes of the singer, as he strolled over to the bedside to give it to her.

"Here, it should rid you of any lingering illness you have." He handed it to Christine, at which she eyed it for a moment, before reluctantly taking it.

"Thank you…"

Erik raised an eyebrow to Christine's disgruntled expression. She just swished it around in the cup and continued to glare at it.

"Why so hesitant? You look at it as though it were poison."

"Maybe it is…" She murmured to herself, audible to the phantom's hearing.

He couldn't help but release a small laugh. "Christine, you're acting very childish now. It is for the good of your health!"

"Yes Erik, but have you looked at it? It looks disgusting, smells putrid and is bound to taste dreadful!" She complained, refusing to open her mouth.

"If not for you, drink it for me. I bought it for you!"

The soprano contemplated this, and let out a defeated sigh, pinching her nose to try and drown out the terrible taste of the liquid dripping down her throat.

"I was right..."

"What?"

"It tastes like the inners of a dead man!"

Erik simply laughed and went to get her a glass of water.

"Next time I shall feed it to you!" He reached for the glass, "Forgive me Christine, but I wasn't able to find a gift worthy of being presented to you."

She sipped from the new drink. "Oh Erik, you give me beautiful roses daily. I call that a gift in itself. And I am most thankful for the water…"

She waited for Erik to return to her. "Here, they're chocolates from Madame Giry. I know it's not much, but it's all I was able to get." Her cheeks felt as though they were on fire, as Erik blinked in surprise.

"Um, thank you…I wasn't quite expecting-"

"You've taken care of me these past few days, it's the least I could do."

"Valentines Day is not the friendliest of holidays for me…Christine, you have made it special." 'I don't think I'll mention to her…that these chocolates are what I live on…'

She smiled sadly, resting her head on his shoulder. "I read the paper today."

"You did?"

"Yes…and thank you, for trying to protect me. It wasn't necessary. …I chose not to be with Raou-him anymore. I will return to the opera the beginning of the week."

'Don't blush…blushing makes you look like a fool. Don't let her see you…' "The beginning of next week? Why not now?"

"I'd thought I would spend some time with you…" She leaned further into him.

Before he had any time to react, Christine placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "Happy Valentines Day…"