A/N: Yeah, I suck at writing angst. Oh well, this thought popped into my head at night and I decided to write a one shot. This is mainly because the Raoul in my other story didn't get to strangle Christine. I am aware it's crap, deal with it.

Disclaimer: I don't own POTO, and this plot is just a part of my twisted imagination and no doubt been done before. And as much as I pray to own the Used, my prayers continue to go unanswered. I just happened to be listening to this song and used it as a title.

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I suppose I had always known it. No matter how I tried to ignore it, I had known. You loved him before you even met him- and sure as

hell more than you could ever love me. Whether as a father or lover, or perhaps both, it makes no difference. You chose him. The chance

to redeem this disgusting fault was lost in how you made the choice- not for me, but to satisfy your own petty desires. I saw it in your

eyes as you went to capture his lips with your own. My pathetic life didn't even cross your mind... you saw what you wanted and you

took it. Love broke through the cleverly sculpted mask you wore over those crystalline orbs; betrayal when he turned you away. That

was how I knew. Your hands were cold as you undid my crude bondage, your steps hesitant as you followed me to the gondola. You

even went back- throwing away so carelessly the ring I had bestowed upon you in misguided love. Did you think he would take you

back? Did you simply want to gloat? Want to shove in his monstrous face the fact that you had another, and he did not? Then again,

perchance you wanted to remind me I was second choice. That I would somehow never be as good as the monster you stood before.

Well, they say love is blind. I guess it escaped my notice when my eyes were gouged out as cruelly as my heart. But it doesn't matter

anymore. I no longer feel any of the love that nearly cost me my life- in fact, I feel nothing at all. Nothing as I wrap my hands around your

fragile throat; nothing as they constrict until the light in your traitorous eyes is lost forever. I watch in cold blood as your corpse splashes

into the murky water surrounding the hell you so desperately wanted to be a part of. I don't bat an eye when I privilege the crowd with a

tale of how it was your precious phantom who ripped you from this world, watch with as much satisfaction as is possible to bring forth as

they chase after the beast. It is not until I reach home that the feelings return- and I laugh. Tears brought forth from humor stream down

my face as I gasp for air, the irony of still crying over your death not lost on me. Perhaps one day I'll visit your grave... give you that toy

you wanted so. I'll expect a thank you, Little Lotte. After all, I gave you a chance to be with your opera ghost- no doubt they will kill the

bastard when they find him. You and he can burn together. So remember to thank me when I join you. I gave you your freedom; it was

but a happy accident I received mine... really.