Here is another poto fanfic. enjoy

It had been at least seven months since that fateful night when she had been made to choose between the man she thought she loved and her angel. Now, as she sat by the window looking on onto the De changy estate, she wondered if she had made the right choice. Yes, in the end she had chosen the infamous "Phantom of the Opera"; but he had allowed her to leave with Raoul, her childhood sweetheart. She could have argued and stayed with him, but instead she took the life of a countess, married to a noblemen instead of a musical genesis, among other things.

"Are you alright, Little Lotte?" her new husband asked, standing in the doorway. She smiled slightly and turned to glance at him, before returning to the window.

"I was just thinking." She replied, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. He smiled and walked toward her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"About what?" he asked again. She shrugged her shoulders slightly and laid her hand on top of his.

"It's more like remembering." She explained, still looking out onto the garden.

"Then what are you remembering, Little Lotte?" he chuckled, stroking her hair. She wasn't sure if she should continue; what if it upset him?

"Him." She finally whispered, no louder then a mouse's squeak. She felt his grip on her shoulder's tighten and his breath caught in his throat.

"Why would you think of that monster, Christine?" he finally asked. She frowned, and let go of his hand.

"He is not a monster, Raoul. He is a man, just like you. " She snapped, turning away from him. He laughed harshly.

"A man does not act like IT did, Christine. " he replied, removing his hands from her shoulders. She stood up, with her back to him.

"He is just misunderstood. You only saw one side of him, Raoul. " She argued.

"Well, if that is just one side. I don't want to see the others." He replied, crossing over to his desk. She bowed her head as she started to silently sob. She wouldn't be having this discussion with her angel, if he were here. They were both silent for a while.

"I don't see why you think about him, Christine. That part of our life is over, now. We can move on, and not have to worry about him." He finally muttered, breaking the silence.

"That is just it, Raoul. I do worry about him, almost everyday. Not if he is going to come, searching for me. But if he is alright or if he is sick or hurt." She replied, wiping her tears away. She didn't hear him walk to stand behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her on the cheek.

"Madam Giry will take care of him. I'm sure of it." He muttered, laying his head on her shoulder. She smiled weakly and nodded. Her old ballet instructor would take care of him.