A/N: So…ya…new chappie, felt generous, two chapters in the same week…I'm on a roll today. Now if only it wasn't 11:23 at night…Just watched POTO again for like, the one million and tenth time. If I haven't memorized every note by now, I have a serious problem. I WANT A NEW MP3! Mine's getting really old…and I keep having to change batteries. That's annoying, and I mean, ANNOYING. Chappie dedication: Becky in AZ and Meg in PA. I love you both, my two best friends forever. Hope your lives are much happier than mine! Oh, and this one's for Paul and Daragh: What is airspeed velocity of swallow? I don't know, is it an European swallow or an African one? Whichever one can carry coconuts across a sea!
Christine stood there on the windowsill, waiting for a sign…something to tell her she had done the right thing by giving Raoul a chance. Erik had seemed so sad…
Speaking of Erik, he was at the very moment composing a song that he thought should be perfect, the perfect, and pure essence of his love. The notes flowed easily in his brain and he tried to decipher them as they eventually became a masterpiece. There was a sweet, happy start, but quickly went to sad and lethargic, and at the end, there was a legato to top it all off. The song was beautiful, and he couldn't wait to add lyrics to it. He felt that he should put them together. His Christine and him in a song. The notes would be all her, the lyrics about him. He cracked his knuckles, grinning at his genius, and began counting syllables in a word.
However, Raoul, back in his chateau, was having a bit of trouble. His sister walked in and saw his surrounded by crumpled song paper and trying with a ton of effort to play the pianoforte. His sister laughed softly, and that got his attention. "Little sister, what is wrong with you? Help your brother!"
"And what is it that my brother needs?"
"A song that portrays true love for one, but not another,"
"And you must compose it?"
"Yes,"
"Why not get someone to compose it for you?"
Raoul looked at her, and kissed her cheek. "I love you,"
"Don't do me any favors,"
"I won't,"
"I knew that, ages ago," she said, chuckling as her older brother raced off to see the composer of the latest opera. He had to have the best of the best, nothing else would do. He must have Christine again or his reputation would be tarnished. He never loved her, once maybe, but this was a matter of wanting to bed her, and he hoped she was worth all the trouble.
Christine began arranging furniture around, and finally collapsed in her new parlor. She watched the fire merrily lick the flames as the heat soothed her nerves. She had not specified a date for this to be done, and she knew Raoul would take a while. He had loved music, but never been able to set foot in a music room without someone else singing in it.
Her tears had just stopped flowing when a knock was heard at the door. She got up quickly, wiped her eyes, and opened the door. Erik saw her bloodshot eyes and dropped the flowers quickly. This was more important. He needed to know what was making her cry, right away, and he'd kill Raoul if he had done this to her. "Now, my Angel, whatever is wrong?" he asked gently, after he set her down in a chair.
"I am sad,"
"Why?"
"Because I'm making you give me up…It's all my fault. I remember when me and Raoul would sit and be little children, but that's all we were, children. I was never going to be part of his world, the world of aristocracy. I remember also the time when you killed so many men…why? Why, Erik? So many innocent lives you stole that night, the men whom I worked with, and you killed them without so much a glance. You might have killed me,"
Erik stood there, not quite sure of what to say. He himself wasn't quite sure of theory. He had been working nonstop on Don Juan Triumphant without eating for sometimes a week, and drinking only when it became unbearable. He was losing her, so all he could do from going into despair was to go into his cave and work so hard, he didn't have time to sleep. Working hard was his common ally, and she wouldn't understand that. He had loved her so dearly, that he lost control and became a ravaging lunatic, hungering for an ounce of love, just a drop of compassion to come to him. Years of crying over it made it impossible for him not to go completely nuts.
Christine was crying again, and looking at him blankly, as if remembering a time before time, and then sang softly:
His eyes will find us there, those eyes that burn,
If he has to kill a thousand men,
The Phantom of the Opera will kill and kill again.
Erik's eyes filled to the brim, and spilled over when he remembered that night, the night where she had kissed the fop, when she had betrayed him. He sang back softly,
I gave you my music,
Made your song take wing,
And now, how you repay me,
Deny me and betray me…
He took her into his arms and whispered against her hair, "My Angel, you know I love you more than anything, even music, and I realize that I was being very…well…obnoxious. I didn't want to see you in another man's arms, and that hurt a lot…Oh Christine, I was never loved, and you can live with a wealthy man if you so wish. All I have to offer you is music and everlasting love…not nearly enough to sustain even myself for all life. I love you, because you gave me love, and compassion. You gave me all that I ever wanted, and all I have given you is pain and anger. I am not worthy of your love,"
He started to turn to get out, when she grabbed his hand. "Angel, you know I love you too. The fact of the matter is, I cannot let myself live if I did not give you both a FAIR chance at winning me. I feel horrible about being a prize in a contest between men, but if that's the way we have to solve it, then so be it. I never want to go back to the Opera Populaire again, not that it will come back to life anyways. It burned to the ground, or so I heard,"
Christine was an angel, he thought. The girl was willing to give up her life for him, and give up her happiness for someone else. He began ruffling her hair, and a scent of roes began spreading on his fingers. "My love, you have no idea how bad I want to take you home with me right now,"
"I have some idea; I don't want to be alone, not tonight,"
"Then don't! Spend the night with me,"
"All right then, I hope you don't mind the floor, because if we are caught, Raoul's going to give a fit,"
They settled in on a couple of blankets, and Erik held her as she fell asleep quickly in his arms. If only I could sleep that well tonight, he said, looking down at his pants thoughtfully. His eyes fell on his love's sleeping face, and enjoyed the few moments when she loved the monster, the ugly one, the lonely angel…
