Chapter 12: True Beauty

A/N I don't own Phantom or anything retaining to it…but the story's mine. So, we left Christine in her dressing room after she and Erik had decided for her to return to the world of light briefly in order to plan and attend Raoul's funeral ( he died in chapter 9 in case you somehow forgot)….

As Christine headed out of the Opera House, she found a taxi carriage and climbed in. The interior; ripped and worn from years of service, looked nothing like Raoul's new carriage he had recently bought, with its spotless, red velvet interior. Her thoughts were interrupted by the gravelly voice of the driver.

"Where to Miss?" It took a minute for Christine to actually remember where she was going.

"Poisson Brothers, please." She said, handing him a few francs.

"As you wish mademoiselle." He said as he swished the whip on the horses' backs and they began trotting merrily. The carriage finally came to a halt stopping in front of a small building.

Christine thanked the driver and stepped out of the carriage. She had come here in order to have Raoul's tombstone carved and engraved. She wore a black dress, though she wasn't exactly in mourning. She was disappointed to lose the man who had been like a brother to her, but she rejoiced at the fact that she was no longer in the arms of a dangerous man.

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Erik turned abruptly from Christine, knowing that if he even dared look at her for one more moment, he would only find it harder to let her go. Deal with it, he told himself, she'll be back in three days. He sat down at the organ and began composing. Unlike most of his recent songs, this one wasn't lowly and depressing, or angered; it was slow and romantic, and it reminded him of the song he had serenaded Christine with the first time he had brought her down into his home. He continued playing for what seemed like days, his music taking control over his mind. When he finally seemed to regain consciousness, Erik looked over at the grandfather clock and saw that he had been at the organ for 13 hours. Looking down at his callused finger, he scowled. He must learn to keep control of himself while he played, but that seemed to be impossible for him. Every time his fingers touched the white keys, he was sent into a world of oblivion; a world of sweet, dark music. After that, Erik seemed to do nothing but watch the hours pass, waiting for Christine to return to him. At last, it was Thursday, and at any moment, Christine would be back in his arms. Erik climbed into the gondola and waited for Christine behind her dressing room mirror.

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By the time notices had been sent out, the headstone carved, and the dates made; Christine had a headache the size of France. She was just glad it was finally Thursday, and that she could return to Erik-though only briefly. Doing her best to avoid being seen, she kept to the shadows. She wandered into her old dressing room and felt the cool glass against her fingertips. Erik had long ago explained how simply her mirror worked, so she began pressing her hands harder into the glass and trying to push it to the side, but it was harder than it looked. She almost screamed when she heard a voice.

"Having trouble mademoiselle?" The mirror then slid to the side, revealing a smirking Erik.

Instead of greeting him with a playful slap on the arm, Christine collapsed into his arms. She heard him trying his best to comfort her as she felt tears in her eyes. She hadn't shown any emotion until right here at this moment. When she finally wiped her eyes, and looked up at him, he returned her glance with a look of sympathy.

"Come," he said gesturing to the stone corridors "I'll make you some tea."

The tea had been rich and warm. After finishing, Christine had felt a lot less stressful. "Thank you." She shyly kissed him on his unmasked cheek and headed for the chair; she was very tired and needed to sit down. But then she turned around to face Erik and began walking towards him. She ran her hand down the cool, white mask. "May I?" she had asked, but it hadn't been much of a question, more of a pleading attempt.

"Christine please-" He hated having his face shown, like he was still in a cage making money off of his looks, or lack thereof.

"Angel, you have nothing to hide…" she said, looking warmly up at him "I have seen your face before. I am not young and ignorant as I once was; I am not afraid." And with that she slid her fingers along the edge of his mask and lifted it from his scarred face.

"Christine!" He roared in horror. "Why?"

"Because I love you." She tried to kiss him, but he turned from her.

Stranger than you dreamt it; can you even dare to look? Or bear to think of me?

This face holds no horror to me now!

This loathsome gargoyle who burns in hell

You are an angel of heaven!

But secretly yearns for heaven…

Christine couldn't stand to hear such evil words about her Angel; and emerging from his own lips! She began to sing.

Fear has turned to love.

I've learned to see to find a man,

And not a monster.

This beautiful angel,

Who call himself a beast,

But is a beauty…

Is a beauty…

With that, she ran towards him, and before he could even think to turn, she kissed him on the lips; a kiss full of passion and understanding. She loved him. It would take time for him to truly understand that, but it was what she would work on. One day he would be willing to accept that he was loved his own sake. Until then, she would spend every waking moment she had with him trying to make him understand every feeling she had for him. From the compassion she felt when he was upset, to the tingling rush she felt take over her body right now.