Red Rose

Chapter XI: As the Rose Wilts

"Excuse me, gentlemen, but which one of you is this girl's husband?" The nurse turned her head, noticing Raoul's hand rise slightly from his lap.

"Well sir, although I'm glad that you had enough sense to come back here, I'm afraid I have some…rather horrible news." She let a deep sigh escape from her lips. "Perhaps you'd prefer it if Mr. Opera Ghost were not here?" The assistant replied, tilting herself towards Erik.

"No. Please dear lady, go on." Victome de Chagny and Erik were not in great spirits. They thought that if they were to bicker, it would be far too childish of them. Christine was far more important.

"Christine has received a rather monstrous wound of the stomach. The sword's blade did not succeed in causing anything fatal, and we're happy to report that with the proper care and treatment, she will be back to herself in a matter of months. But…" her voice trailed off into a lonely whisper, "It's my sad duty to tell you, that with the sudden blow to her body…"

"What is it, Madame?" Erik leaned forward in his seat, his eyes pleading with her. She must tell him. It did not matter if Raoul were there to listen, or not.

"Mr. Chagny, your wife has…lost the baby."

The phantom of the opera, died inside.

…………

Raoul did not wait. He rushed down the wing in a staggering run, and swung open the door. Her bed sat in the far corner of the room next to a large glass window, where the light streamed through. The glow of the moon washed across Christine's face. She lay there, lonesome in bed, not moving or even batting a lash. She did not possess the acknowledge that Raoul had even entered. Though she was only nineteen, in that moment she seemed ancient, with her eyes deprived of that look of happiness. They appeared as though they were nothing but two cold stones in a river of rippling water. Her hair was sprawled out over the pillow in tangles of chestnut brown. The only signs Christine showed of life were the small, graceful movements of her lips. She was singing, but her voice came out barely audible. Though he could not hear it, Raoul knew the melody that flowed from her lips. He had countless times in the past year, whenever he awoke in the middle of the night to find Christine still awake. It was something that drove him mad, something that caused him to be madSoftly in the darkness, she would murmur the song, so quietly that he could hardly hear it...

"And in his eyes…

All the sadness of the world…

Those pleading eyes,

That both threaten and adore…"

"Christine...?" She turned her unfeeling, empty eyes on him, tears softly flowing down her cheeks. Extending her hand out to him, she took his hand into hers. Her fingers were cold to the touch, as if coated in ice.

"I'm sorry, Raoul..."

There was a reluctant, hesitant pause. "I don't blame you, Christine."

But deep within the depths of his mind, he did. The magic between Raoul and Christine had been lost in a short moment. The viscount knew, from the thoughts that sounded through his head, that he would never be able to tear a woman away from her angel. He drew his hand back, walking towards the door. "Good-bye, Christine."

She knew that was no simple good-bye. And, truth be told, she was not saddened by it. She wanted Raoul to have a wife, who would think of him, and only him. A wife, who wished to embrace only him. Someone, whose mind wasn't lingering with the love of the past… He-he deserved better.

(A/N: Did I write that! He'll be lucky if he marries a toad! Dreadful fop! Okay, back to the story…)

What caused her to tremble was the thought of her baby, the thought of Erik…

'He must know…it be impossible for him not to…' Christine buried her face in the fluff of feathers, crying for many obvious reasons.

………

"Monsieur, I think you should let her stay here with the doctor! I promise you she'll be in good hands!" The nurse fled off behind Erik as he sprinted to the patient's room. He would've been there sooner, but…but… it hurt to think about.

"Then would you be so kind as to giving me the necessary items she will need to regain her strength?" He turned on her, watching with regret as the lady shivered with fright. One was smart not to enrage an Opera Ghost. "I assure you, my friend; Miss Daae is in no better hands than mine."

"But, Mr. Chagny-"

"I will not have to worry about the man. Neither will Christine." And he left her, entering the room. He could hear the heart-breaking sobs of Christine, as she wailed into the pillows. She showed no intention in coming up for breath. She refused to look at anything unless it was to be the inside of her eyelids.

"My dear…" He cooed, his pure, calming voice filling the air. Erik placed a wonderfully smooth hand on her shoulder. "Christine, you know I can not bear to see you cry. It pains me so."

"How can you even talk to me?" She screamed into the bedding. "I must've broken your heart. Don't tell me you don't know, Erik! You must know now!"

"Yes, I know…" He looked at her, obscuring her tear-stained face within the fabric of the pillow. "Come now, I want to see you, Christine. Please look at me."

Slowly, the singer drew herself from the sheets. She looked up at him with red, burning eyes. "My baby's gone…"

Erik quickly embraced her, letting Christine cry freely in his chest. "Weep all you want my dear, it will only help…"

"The first month married to Raoul," she choked, "I admit I was happy. But Erik, I was always thinking about you! I couldn't stop myself! I sang, pretending you were there; I looked longingly at the night sky. It was then I realized that this love with Raoul…it wasn't real. It was some childhood romance! Well, I'm not a child! It wasn't the same with you. You made me feel complete; you made me yearn for you. It's the kind of love you described so passionately in you Duan Juan. That scared me. So I convinced myself that I could not dare to love you. So, I continued living with Raoul, playing my little game of make believe. The truth is…" She took a deep breath, "I love you Erik!"

Christine pushed herself further into him, lovingly.

Erik brought her chin to his fingers, smiling warming. He caught her lips in a chaste kiss, before breaking away. "Let's go home, Christine."

………

No, my story's not over! I still got a good amount of chapters to come! Please review.

Christine