Disclaimer- I don't own the phantom…plain and simple

Chapter 12

Orianna faintly heard the sound of music being played. She slowly opened her eyes and glanced around. She sat up and felt like hugging herself. It wasn't a dream after all. She looked over at the little music box and smiled. It was a monkey in Persian robes playing the cymbals. The music slowly faded away as she lay back down. She had made a revelation last night. The mask, the leading, the music, everything. He was the Phantom of the opera, obviously; the one that the weird flower lady was talking about. The Phantom terrorizes the opera house to make her a star because he loves her voice. Orianna wondered if that made him shallow then decided to change the subject in her mind. So, her angel was the phantom and such.

All of a sudden she was distracted by the sound of music. God, this guy was good. He could get her attention in an instant. She stood up and noticed her white dressing robe on a chair next to the bed. She slipped the robe on and walked towards the sound. She stopped when she noticed the lake, the boat and there he was, the phantom, playing on his organ. So, it was all real; she wasn't crazy. Her angel seemed wrapped up by his music. He was focused solely on that. She even coughed a couple of times and he didn't even notice. She tip-toed her way behind him and looked over his shoulder. He had furiously written down notes and words but she could barely read them. She looked at his face and noticed the mask still there. She needed to see what was under there; what was he hiding? She tried to grab the mask but he turned away for a second. She stomped her foot in frustration. She calmed herself then she grabbed at it again. The mask easily came off into her hand. He turned around suddenly and grabbed her wrist. She gasped at his face, her eyes widening and her mouth dropped. She couldn't examine his face any further because he was yelling in her face.

"Damn you!
You little prying Pandora!
You little demon
is this what you wanted to see?"

He was so angry. She managed to get her wrist free from his grasp. She backed up away from him but he continued to yell in her face, looking as if he was ready to pounce at any second.

"Curse you!
You little lying Delilah!
You little viper!"

She somehow got around him and ran past him but he quickly followed, continuing to roar at her.

"Now you cannot ever be free!"

She tripped over something and fell to the floor. She curled up into a ball and hid her face from him. She couldn't take the yelling.

"Damn you! Curse you!"

She had never seen someone so angry yet she had never seen a face like his. There was silence; she lifted her head to see if he was still there and he was on the floor with his head down. She could feel the tears stinging her eyes, but she resolved not to let them flow. He lifted his head and looked at her; she felt her heart tugging at her. He began to slide himself across the floor with his hand out to her.

"Stranger than you dreamt it
Can you even dare to look
or bear to think of me:
this loathsome gargoyle, who burns in hell,
but secretly yearns for heaven,
secretly ...
secretly ...

Christine…"

He sat up a bit as he was coming closer to her and she did the same. He looked as if he was about to cry and she felt her tears just fall silently down her cheeks.

"Fear can turn to love - you'll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster:
this repulsive carcass, who seems a beast, but secretly dreams of beauty,
secretly ...
secretly ...

Oh Christine…"

Facing each other, he put his hand over his face. She thought her heart was going to break in half for the look he was giving her. She wiped her eyes and licked her lips.

"Let me see..." motioning to his face. He shook his head gently but she put her hand over his and slowly removed it. He turned to the side so she could see it better. She put her hand to her mouth as she gazed at the horror of his deformed face; she couldn't find the words to describe his face. She looked in his eyes but he was too embarrassed to face her gaze. She moved a little closer to him, examining every detail of his face. His disfigurement was startling but she got an overwhelming sense of misery from him. It was horrible to look at yet his eyes were so sad that it softened his face and made it bearable to her. She lifted her hand and put it to his cheek. At first, he flinched but he closed his eyes and pressed his face to her hand. He opened his eyes and they stared at each other, sharing a blissful moment. Suddenly, he turned his face away from her. She looked down and noticed his mask sitting there. She removed her hand and held his mask out to him. He nodded and quickly put it back on. He stood up, holding his hand out to her.

"Come, we must return, those two fools who run my theater will be missing you." She took his hand and he helped her up. He brought her over to the boat but she stopped him before he helped her on.

"You shouldn't be ashamed of it. We all have our faults." She stepped into the boat and they were off.

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Before he left her in the dressing room, he courageously pressed a kiss to her hand. He handed her a letter and she raised a brow.

"What's this?"

"For Madame Giry, please give it to her right away." She nodded and he was gone. She sighed from exhaustion not knowing how long she had slept. She fell onto the couch, worn out. Before she could even close her eyes, Madame Giry and Meg burst into her room. Meg rushed to her side and she sat up.

"Christine, are you alright?"

"Oh yes, I'm fine. Is everything fine here?"

"Not exactly. It seems that word got to the newspapers of your disappearance. And Raoul is here…"

"What? Oh, my giddy aunt!" Orianna lay back down.

"That's right, mon ange, rest. We shall take care of it. Come Meg."

They both went to leave, Meg left hesitantly.

"Oh wait, Madame, I was instructed to give you this." She handed her the letter that the phantom had given to her. Madame Giry took it and nodded. They quickly left. Orianna waited a second then leapt to the door. She was not about to miss this.

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