Enjoy!
Epilogue
Five Years Later
Erik had decided that he wanted to marry Christine when he was thirteen years old. The moment she'd seen his bare face and kissed him regardless - that was when he realized that his feelings for her went far, far beyond that of friendship. Until then, he'd assumed that the love he felt for her was the devotion of a brother. But no. No, when he pictured them as adults, he could only see them at one another's side. No other woman or man belonged. And the idea of either of them in the arms of anyone else filled him with the worst sort of heartbreak and dread.
While he'd played music for her that night, poured his entire heart out for her, he'd known that he would one day propose. When they were old enough, when they were ready, he would ask her to accept him as her husband.
As the years passed, his hope that she'd say yes had only grown. He would catch her watching him, notice every time her hands unconsciously reached for him when they read together on the couch, smile as she giggled at his jokes - ones even he didn't think were very funny.
Gustave had always told Christine that he wanted her to be a grown woman, mature, before he allowed her to marry anyone. Seventeen, he'd said - that was a perfectly reasonable age to find a husband.
She'd turned seventeen one month ago. And tonight, she was performing at the Paris Opera House, dancing for the world with her friend Meg. But Erik liked to imagine she was dancing only for him, and that she was the only one on the stage. A selfish thought, perhaps, but he didn't care. He could only focus on her as she moved to the rhythm of the music.
Music that he'd written.
The opera was his debut. Part of the reason that management accepted it at all was because Erik had offered it to be performed without demanding royalties. He merely wanted to have his work performed - and having a connection to Gustave (along with an excellent musical score and story, a retelling of Hades and Persephone) they decided to have it performed.
Only the fact that "Gustave Daaé's ward" had written it made anyone want to see it at all. And once word got out that opening night was...well, very good, more patrons began purchasing tickets.
Tonight was closing night. Every seat had been sold, and there wasn't a single refund.
The last note was played, and the audience erupted into applause. Christine beamed and bowed along with the rest of the ballet girls. Of all of them, she was the most radiant.
As the house began trickling toward the exits, buzzing with approval and already sharing memories of what they'd seen, Erik made his way to the backstage. On his way, he made eye contact with Gustave, who was mid-conversation within the orchestra pit. The man gave him a small smile and a nod. He knew of Erik's plans. He'd approved them two weeks ago.
Gustave, like Christine, had eventually seen Erik's face. A year after Christine saw it, she'd convinced him to show her father - whose reaction was to pull him into an embrace and thank him for trusting him. Erik had cried, harder than he ever had. The relief he felt in that moment - the unconditional care from this little family - was unbelievable.
He wove through the small throng of friends, family, and suitors that were also shuffling toward backstage. Like water through rocks in a stream, he deftly avoided those around him, one single goal in mind. All he could picture was Christine's face, and all he could feel was the ring in his pocket. Silver. A delicate little diamond set in the metal. Beautiful, light, and full of grace - just like her.
He found her with Meg, chatting near a wide mirror. Good - she hadn't yet gone into the ballerinas' dressing room to change. He wanted to do this while she was still in her radiant dancers' outfit, wearing the clothes of the art she loved.
Meg spotted him first, and shifted her eyes to her then back to me with a small smile. Christine turned her head, and a beaming grin took her face in an instant. He loved that - the happiness that seeing him brought her. If he could survive on only her smile for the rest of eternity, he would.
Meg whispered something in her ear, gave her arm a squeeze, and then went to another group of ballet girls to chat with them instead. Christine turned fully to him now.
Vaguely, he heard her ask how he liked the final performance.
But he could hardly focus on that.
And rather than respond, he went to her knelt. He pulled out the ring. Words left his mouth - they must have. People must have been watching. He wasn't sure. All he remembered was the way her hands went to her mouth and she squealed a yes, as people around them hooted and clapped with equal excitement.
The ring went onto her finger. He stood, and her arms went around his neck.
Music - music had always been his first love as a child. It had kept him company long into the night when loneliness crept in. He would pluck the strings of an instrument until the pain passed. But when he grew old, when his senses would inevitably fade, it would the strings of Christine's heart that would soothe him.
Even now, as he looked into her eyes, he saw the purity of her heart play soft melodies for him on those strings of silver and gold.