Disclaimer: Once again, these characters don't belong to me... sigh

Author's Note: Hello dearest readers and a special thank you to IncarnationOfPureBeauty for reviewing every time that I've posted something. Thanks sweety! I'd really love a couple more reviews, they really would mean everything to me! Alright, enough begging. This chapter isn't a song fic, it is still a One Shot but not a song fic. This story is set when Christine is about thirteen or fourteen and she still believes that Erik is her Angel of Music. Just a little angsty chapter from my beloved Erik's POV. Enjoy!

Don't Cry Out Loud

"Angel? Angel?"

Christine bounded into the room. her chocolate brown curls bounced lively, catching the different shade warm shades of earth and hints of gold of her hair in the bright light of her dressing room. Her eyes of deep chesnut shone with excitement and a healthy flush glowed upon her flawless cheeks. Her rosy lips were curled into an expectant smile. allowing me a glimpse of her perfectly white teeth.

I gazed at her lovingly from behind the mirror, basking in her childlike, joyful radiance. A smile stole a place over my lips also, infectious as her own brilliant grin always was.

"Angel, are you here?" she asked, her wide eyes glancing around the room in anticipation, her broad smile slipping a few notches, the lack of my voice worrying her.

"I am here child," I murmured reassuringly, my low, rich voice escaping my throat, slipping from my lips, prolonging the lie I'd fabricated just to be in her presence...

Her jubilant smiel returned and her eyes sparkled with renewed vigour. She sighed, relieved, "Oh, Angel, I am always afraid that you will eventually have to leave someday and I will no longer hear your voice... It frightens me." she breathed, lowering her eyes sadly.

"I will never leave you, Christine," I replied, softening at her words, so concerned on my behalf. "I could never leave you..." I whispered merely to myself. She had no idea...

She immediately brightened and executed a graceful twirl out of happiness, the traces of her years as a ballerina apparent. Her ample, silken skirt swayed with the sudden motion of her body, flowing into elegant folds, hugging her every movement. "Oh, my Angel!" she exclaimed, "You will forever stay with me? I'll always have my Angel of Music?" she asked gaily, taking a small step toward wher I hid.

That is what she thought of me as, an Angel, a perfect, unattainable being, blessed and divine, too good for her... Never. I was beneath her, I was worthless. Nothing. A forgotten creature of the shadows, shunned from the light. She was the Angel, she was my unattainable and perfect being, blessed and divine, too good for me.

I couldn't have her. I never could. Yet I didn't want to be an Angel to her... I wanted to be a man. What I wouldn't give to be able to hold her, to caress her face, just be next to her... I couldn't. I knew that I couldn't. She would discover that I had deceived her, lied to her and tricked her. Taken advantage of her trusting nature merely for my own happiness. To see the hurt I knew would gleam in her lovely eyes would destroy me. Her pain would become my own and I would increase it tomake me suffer more than she.

She wouldn't understand. She wouldn't understand my need to see her everyday. The need to hear her sweet, angelic voice bless my ears. The need for her to aknowledge my existence, for that was the most dear treasure of my poor, miserable life. She talked to me, she smiled at the thought of her Angel, she cared for her Angel of Music... If I could be an Angel to her, if that was how she wished to know me... so be it. At least I could be something to her... Someone. That was all that I wanted.

"I will forever stay with you, Christine," I told her, hoping against all hopes that I could be there for evevrytime in her life that she needed me. "I will try my best..." I muttered softly, closing my emerald eyes briefly, trying to quell the ascent of those recurring, troubled tears.

"You sound sad, Angel," she said compassionately, tilting her dainty head slightly to one side, her smile being replaced by a concerned look as she walked slowly toward the mirror.

I opened my eyes swiftly, surprised at her keen observation. Had my voice faltered? Had I aroused her suspicions? Could she pick out where my voice came from? Pushing back my insignificant emotions, I tried to chase away any traces of grief from my voice, "Why do you say that, child?" I asked, praying that any brief traces of sadness that may have appeared in my voice had not upset her.

She reached the mirror and began scanning it's glassy surface. Of course, all she could see was her own reflection, but I was in the process, allowed the sight of her face so near. Her eyes searched in vain, a curious, almost knowing look occupying her young eyes. "I just... I only thought... Oh, I don't know..." she admitted, not finishing any of her begun sentences, just a dissapointed pause concluding them for her.

She then placed a timid hand upon the mirror, her palm pressing into the glass, inquisitive, it rested there as she seemed to stare directly at me.

I froze and suddenly forgot how to breathe. I simply stood there, my eyes never leaving her face, desire and love making every fiber in my body ache. Her ethereal beauty astounded me. Slowly, I brought up a gloved hand and began to free my cold fingers from the confines of the black leather. Dropping the glove to the stone floor, I raised my deathly pale, thin hand to the mirror and placed my palm to the exact spot as hers.

So close but yet so very far. Only a wall of glass seperating the feel of her fingertips upon mine. Only the barrier of impossibility seperating me from my Angel. Only the obstacle of reality seperating me from love.

I pressed my hand to the cold, hard surface, flattening my palm against the reflective substance, desperately trying to feel the sensation of her skin. I could almost imagine it. Perhaps I would feel warmth, a certain soothing softness to the creamy flesh the kissed her delicate fingers. Perhaps a silky smoothness to caress my own hand. I didn't know. I could only imagine. Only live with fantasies. Lies. Dreams. The whisper of her flesh upon my own was there... It was almost there... Almost.

Her eyes bored blindly into mine, her hans unknowingly graced my own. For a flicker of a second, I felt her close and she felt me also.

A delirious smile illuminated my lips as I gazed at her breathlessly. Subconsciouly, I leaned forward, just wishing to see her closer. I was drawn toward her stunning face. My breathing came in short gasps, my entire body trembled with the combined effect of so many emotions coursing though me all at once, my skeletal limbs shaking beneath my layers of midnight clothing blending my thin form to the darkness of the tunnel.

She gave a defeated sigh and leaned the right side of her face against the mirror, her cheek now resting upon the cool glass. "Sometimes," she whispered, "I think that I can almost feel you there, Angel. Behind this mirror. Sometimes you seem so close... Sometimes I could swear you were here... Are you there, Angel?" she murmured with the ghost of a smile upon her inviting lips.

Her face... so close... the temptation so intense stole over any little bit of sanity I now possessed. The pale, porcelain skin pressed ever so lightly upon my shield of glass ate away at all my remaining resolve.

What was it like to kiss a person? What is it like to receive a kiss a person, I wonder? For my lips to caress, touch the foregn sensation of someone else's skin beneath my lips? For someone else's lips to meet my ugly, deformed, unloved skin? To feel their foreign snesation upon my horrid flesh?

Some dismiss it as a regularity, an overused gesture, a common sign of affection, never respecting it's importance and value. It's greater significance of undying love now becoming a meaningless, thoughtless action. They are so accustomed to something as wonderful as a kiss daily. I have never given a kiss nor received one. How can they abuse the privilege of a kiss when I have been denied it's splendour my whole life?

Shyly and hesitantly, I leaned forward even further than before, growing closer to her cheek resting against her reflection. I hovered there for a few moments, milimetres away from her face. Never had I ever seen her this close. I soaked in her every exquisite detail, feeding my longing heart with these soon to become cherished memories of her every feature. Nurturing the growing fire of love in my soul, strengthening the embers of adoration kept dormant for so long. Then, I closed my eyes and inched my lips closer and closer still to her perfect cheek, my heart beating wildly in anticipation for any form of this so loved action...

"Christine!"

A harsh knock at the door broke the peaceful atmosphere of the temporary Heaven we'd created and that had reigned over us in those moments of of ease and acceptance. Understanding had inhabited the room and for moments of time, I'd belonged to her world.

Christine quickly stood up straight, tearing her face and hand away from the mirror hurriedly, also tearing away yet another piece of my heart in the process. My entire heart was now in her possession. I was completely hers. I loved her.

A panicked expression overcame her gorgeous traits, but she kept her back turned, her eyes still staring at the mirror nonetheless. "Y-Yes?" she stammered in a high-pitched voice.

"Is... someone in there with you?" asked the voice that I recognized as her best friend Meg's, a fellow member of the corps de ballet, from behind her locked door. "I thought I heard you speaking to someone."

"Nobody, Meg," she answered, reassuring her friend. She then looked down at her left hand that had been resting upon the mirror and stroked the skin of her palm curiously with the fingers of her right, gazing at her hand with a puzzled look. Looking up at the mirror and staring through the veil of glass into my solitude, she whispered once more, "Nobody..."

But I couldn't her her angelic voice for I was too preoccupied with the despairing sobs escaping my throat as I slid to the damp, stone ground and slammed my worthless forehead against the evil truth of that mirror...

A/N: This was written quite a while ago so if it wasn't all that good, I'm sorry. I liked it at the time and re-writing it, I'm not sure if I quite like it as much... I'll leave it up to your good judgement though... Read and review please:) Love you guys!