yes well, a couple of reference to the ALW musical here, is that legal?

Phantom do not belong to me.

The weight of the world on Christine's shoulders made her feel so tiny, so insignificant. A grain of sand on a beach she could never see. It numbed her heart, and made her mind run.

She had just proved right to those men that she was disposable. The phantom of the opera was going to die, and she would be responsible.

But that would not happen. They had taken advantage of her kind nature, but nothing was going to change that she was many steps ahead of everyone. Acting without taking that into account had been dumb, but if she acted with intelligence from now on, she could move the cards in her favor and benefit everyone.

Erika was the phantom, but she was much more than they could imagine. A brilliant mind, which immediately mastered any ability if she didn't know it already in the first place. She would be fine.

Two old and idiot men, a young man with no intention of really hurting anyone and a police chief were nothing against her. If Christine was already beginning to see the answers of how to manipulate them, Erika would destroy them, if she didn't do it literally.

Anger, that was the first feeling she could clearly identify. She was tired of being dragged and used. After so much pointless abuse, Christine thought she had the right to do something against it.

For that, Christine had a secret weapon that nobody else had, she had Erika, the phantom of the opera on her side, who would be willing to do anything for her. And that scared her.

How much was too much for Erika?

Her limit was not to lie, nor the destruction of property, and for Christine it was difficult to think of a higher limit than murder, limit that Erika had already crossed without regrets

Christine realized that her protective instinct towards her was ridiculous. If she was practical and as much as she hated to do it, she should worry about Cholet. Erika could kill him, make it look like an accident if she wanted to.

And then what? Erika could kill Cholet, Leroux, Moncharmin even Mauclerc if she wanted to, and Christine would be aware of every death and every step Erika made.

Could she live with that?

Well, -and couldn't believe she had to rethink it-, murder was wrong. She didn't want to have to look the other way while heads rolled at her feet. That was a no, it is clear.

Another question was asked, this time about the consequences of her previous decision.

She could live without Erika?.

In theory, yes. Christine had grown up in the midst of grief and death and that had taught her something, it was that no one was indispensable, and no one died of a broken heart.

But it was impossible for her not to remember how the option to choose what she wanted for her had been taken mercilessly more times than she could count. Christine wanted only one thing, and she wanted Erika. She wanted her to love and be loved, to take care and be taken care of. She could never love someone the same way she loved Erika, because Christine's love for her was as unforgettable and unusual as its own inspiration was.

She didn't want to give up on her. No matter how many smelly corpses were floated in the sewers under her feet or how many chandeliers were torn from the ceiling.

Could she be selfish for once and keep her?

What did she want? A permit? A signal? Anything that would tell her instinct to love her was right.

But she would never reveal the precious secret that Erika's mere existence had been so far. Especially when there were people actively trying to harm her.

There was only one person with whom Christine would have dared to talk about her.

But papa was dead ...

There was only one place, far from the city she had adopted as her home, where she wanted to be. A place that would allow her to think. It was still early, there were still a few months left for her annual trip to Perros, and she didn't have much money right now.

But at that moment it felt necessary to maintain her sanity. And she defined her path before changing her mind.

'' Where were you going, dear? ''

''Oh'' was the only thing she could say, confused as she wasn't sure in which part of the opera she was.

Jean Claude, who she hadn't realized was in front of her, looked worried.

'' Is something wrong with you? You look pale. '' He said genuinely worried, standing up from the chair in the corner of the hall.

Her skin was sickly lighter, and her usual blush was replaced by an almost greenish gray undertone. Her blond and scattered eyebrows seemed to be trapped in a perpetual frown.

It was when Christine realized where she was going. She was in the dressing rooms. She sighed, everything always returned to the same place.

''Oh, I'm fine.'' Christine smiled joyless. " Why are you here? This morning you told me you were going to be at the front door for today." She asked, putting together a conversation to start putting her plan into action. Jean Claude would be her exit ticket.

She had remembered that she couldn't just drop everything and leave.

'' Yes, but the inspector Leroux, insisted, no, forced me to leave my position, Cholet's 'suggestion' . '' He explained, as confused as Christine. " So I went back to watch the dressing rooms. " He said, pointing to the empty rooms.

''Oh'' Was all she could say, focusing on not tensing.

Would Cholet and the inspector be watching her to make sure she didn't run away? She couldn't tell, but here was the first example that she was ahead. She knew at least a dozen different entrances and exits, a handful of which no one else was aware, according to Erika, and her blind faith believed her.

'' Are you sure you're okay? '' Jean Claude asked her, seeing her lose in her thoughts.

'' Can I ask you something? '' The blonde said approaching the man, unable to answer his question, desperate in her gaze.

'' What do you need, Christine? '' He said, gently taking her elbow.

'' I'm leaving," She announced abruptly, firmly.

'' what? What happened for you to decide to leave?! You love this place''

" I'll be back tomorrow! ... I think.'' She explained quickly, whispering the last word.

The man sighed in relief.

'' You should have started there'' He scolded her, fatherly

'' I'm sorry. " She smiled; this time more sincere. " I'll leave today, maybe tomorrow too, can you excuse me while I'm gone? "

'' You're going to go? Now?" Jean claude said raising an eyebrow "Are you leaving us in the midst of chaos? " He joked, with some truth

She shook her head. '' I know and I'm sorry, but... '' she had accepted Cholet's deal. So now that they had assured her that Faust would be postponed, she didn't feel so guilty of leaving. '' I don't know, but I need to get out of here, I'll explain later.''

Later, when she thought of a compelling excuse

'' I understand. '' He really didn't, but he tried to be supportive '' Where are you going? '' He asked, somewhat awkward.

'' Perros''

'' Perros Guirec? That's ... very far. " He said in a snort. ''Do you think it's a good idea to go alone? ''

'' I've been traveling alone for years; I can take care of myself. '' She tried to reassure him, and the certainty in her voice did the trick

He nodded not very confident.

'' I can't and will not stop you, but can I ask you to consider it?'' He asked uneasily

She shook her head. '' I need to do this, I promise that I will explain everything when I return.'' She said putting her two hands together in a sign of prayer ''Please, please.'' She repeated.

Jean Claude sighed, he couldn't say no to those desperate eyes, whatever Christine had to do sounded serious, so he nodded at her request.

'' Do you have the manager's permission? ''

Christine's face immediately brightened; she knew that was his way of saying yes '' Yes.'' She lied.

Cholet needed her more than he wanted to admit, and even if he fired her, he would receive a note from the phantom of the opera. With or without Christine's approval.

" It's okay, no more questions. " He said. "Be careful, remember you're a woman traveling alone."

"I'll do it," Che promised giving the man a hug. "Mireille has my stuff, tell her to give them to me when I get back." She whispered against his shoulder, suddenly melancholy.

He nodded " Just be very careful," He said affectionately

Christine felt safe in Jean Claude's fatherly embrace, a single tear slid down her cheek. She just dusted her father's memory. That tear was only the first.

'' Goodbye.'' She said, forcing herself to break the hug

"We'll be waiting for you. " Jean Claude smiled at her.

She nodded giving him her best smile. That was true, she had friends, people who cared for her.

So why did she feel so alone?

Christine immediately regretted having decided to wear her mourning dress in the same second she sat in the train's economy class. The cloth itched, and she had forgotten to change her chemise for a long-sleeved one, so she knew her skin would be gray when she took it off. It was a pair of sizes too small, and she felt the tense structure of the dress digging everywhere.

She used it every year every time she returned to Perros. It was not a very common practice, and every year, when her dress wanted to stab her, she remembered why, but it had always felt right to do so. There was a truth that Christine did not like to remember, but she had not overcome the death of her father, or the people who had welcomed them.

That's why every year she returned to Perros even if she didn't want to do it. Guilt forced her; it had always felt unfair that only she was alive.

For the rest of the year she pretended that they were here, alive and happy, waiting for her. It was easier to assimilate, but Christine wondered if that was why she had never completely overcome it.

Christine had thought that finally, this would be the year where that tradition met its origin and died. She had been so happy and felt so safe, she was in a place she loved and where she felt she really belonged.

But it could not have been, and now she was returning to a place that was no longer her home as alone as every year, and fuller of grief and guilt than ever. It was not the change she had been waiting for.

"Are you all right, miss? " A man with warm eyes and kind appearance asked. One of the workers, Christine noticed by hir uniform.

Christine raised the head, it was when she realized that she had been crying and not only lonely tears, no, her face was soaked, and her nose was watery

''Oh yes, yes. Thank you, don't worry, " She said, pulling a handkerchief out of her bag to wipe her face." I'm fine. " She tried to smile, but it was more a trembling pout.

The man just smiled at her, before returning to his place.

She looked at the window, recognizing the landscape where she had grown up, but whiter. Snow, she thought with surprise, it was snowing, and her mouth opened, snow was not very common here, much less so early in the winter.

She remembered the winter when she met Erika, she had met her on a cold but sunny day at the end of February. She had become her safe place, her most precious secret.

Spring came early that year, for both of them. Their love was warm and felt right and safe, it made her feel at home, Erika was her home.

She had forgotten her parasol, and her hat, she realized when the train stopped at the station, in annoyance, as her bun began to collapse. She sighed and covered her head with the hood of the cape.

It was Erika's; the same one she had left on Christine's shoulders the night before. She received a couple of strange looks due to the rarity of the design. But it was comfortable, warm and smelled good so Christine didn't care.

It was as black as the rest of her clothes, bright appliques on her shoulders, the hood was wide enough for her identity to drift. It was exaggeratedly long, so Christine had to pick up the extra material with one hand so no one could step on it.

She quickly left the station, not wanting to see how she had no one to pick her up, and the only one leaving the station alone.

The trip to the cemetery hit her harder than usual. It was in this part of the road that she realized how alone she was.

She could say she didn't need anyone to be happy. Christine Daaé needed to love to live and her love for life and for herself was enough most of the time, but she dreamed of belonging to a family again, she dreamed of true love. Never spend her mornings alone, never be drifting from the world.

And she cried at how close that had been to come true. She thought this year would be different. Now she had a home, a job she loved, sincere friends, and she had found someone who loved her as much as she dreamed that she could love someone back. Everything was still there, but paused and after waiting a lifetime, Christine was tired of waiting.

She went through the cemetery door. It was lonely and although it was well taken care of, the mysterious and ghostly air gave it the appearance of being abandoned. It was as she remembered. Crosses, tombs and sculpted angels guarding the loneliness of eternity.

The majesty of the place made her feel much younger, causing her to agree with Erika. Christine was young and perhaps did not understand many things, but that would not stop her from acting as she considered it right. Soon she would return to the opera to fight for the people she knew deserved better. But today, today she could cry.

There were new graves this year, all covered in white. It was beautiful, haunting. The sculpted angels spread their now white wings, the church bells rang in her ears, and in her mind, a violin began to play the melody of a golden childhood.

She felt her heart in her throat and spiders walking through her skin when she found the grave she was looking for.

Valerius / Daaé

It read. Originally the Valerius last name was carved in the stone. But in the last days of her father's life, a plaque with both last names were made. It was a decent burial place in a beautiful cemetery, much more than a violinist could have paid.

She took off her hood carefully. It had been a while since her blond curls had come loose and now, they fell on her back, beginning to cover in snowflakes.

She dropped her arms to the sides, resigned, her lips trembled.

'' Hello papa.'' She said trembling and emotional, in a dry sob, '' I know it's a little early, but…''

But what? She didn't have the words to know what to say.

What had broken her so much to travel five hours in a smelly train being stabbed by her dress? What was wrong, so bad that it had no solution?

"I just needed someone to talk to," She said sadly, somewhat ashamed of losing control of her emotions.

She couldn't blame herself, after her father died, winter smelled like death. Those could be complicated months for her. That had always been the case, long before the extortions and the murders.

"But you are dead." She sobbed, kneeling. "Everyone is dead."

She sat on the plate on the floor where the names of those inside were placed. The coldness of the stone quickly pierced her dress and cooled her legs, causing her to shiver.

"Will I be doomed to everything I touch dies?"

It seemed right to say that everyone who loved her should die. She did not remember living without mourning.

"I'm sorry, Dad, a lot has happened." She apologized, wiping her tears from that baseless fear.

The night of the premiere of Titania played in her memory. The chandelier falling, the screams, the bullets. It had been so horrible, even if she remembered little. Nobody knew how much that night still chasing her.

"I suppose it was my fault, I always knew that Carlotta wanted me out of her way and I should have suspected more when she approached with the promise of peace between us." She said bitterly, containing the tears of anger.

'' I guess I shouldn't underestimate her, she came to my dressing room and offered me of what she was drinking, she insisted and I didn't want to be rude when it was the first time she was being nice to me. ''

'' She said it was herbs, but I realized that there was something weird when I tried it. Then she said she wanted to know who my teacher was, and I completely forgot about the drink. How I was supposed to answer that? I didn't even know Erika's name back then! '' Christine exclaimed. ''That sounds more absurd out loud. ''

Erika's name now came out so naturally from Christine's tongue that she had forgotten that a month ago she didn't even know it.

" I didn't know it, but I would never have betrayed Erika's trust, then Carlotta threatened to fired me and I panicked. Erika and I we had worked so much, we put so much effort, months of work wasted." Her anger had melted to be the sincerest sadness and the most bitter disappointment.

'' And when I went on stage, everything was amazing at first. '' She couldn't help smiling when she remembered ''Until I go speechless, and the disaster started! Erika went crazy, she took the stage, the police were there and…''

Why were the police there? They couldn't have arrived from the station so fast. Christine had refused so much to remember that night that the importance of those details had not been relevant until that moment.

This seemed to be bigger than Christine had initially thought. And Erika was the heart and soul of the opera, she had to knew it, maybe she had always known about Cholet's plans.

So why had she never told her? Not that Christine could be especially angry about it, there were much worse things that Erika had never told her.

''… When the police arrived armed, I was sure I was going to lose her, I've already lost too much, papa. I could only think, not her, everything but her. "

She remembered the desperation she had felt while her mind could only shout that thought when it happened. The memory was enough to return the panic, and she had to breathe deeply to calm down.

" Then the chandelier fell, and the rest is history. " She laughed without humor.

She went silent, the cemetery was empty, so the silence was absolute.

Erika was complicated, so many hidden layers behind stone walls. For Christine, beauty and destruction existed only to become a single being in her eyes.

The icy wind caressing her face gave her courage.

''… You told me you only expected two things from me, that I was happy and that I was a good person, but did you ever think that those things could cancel each other out? Can I be a good person if I love someone who is not ... precisely one?'

As gentle as her maestra was, however good Christine knew she was, the part of the murder and the destruction of property took away a few points

'' Can I stay with her? How do I know if she is going to change? No matter what promises she makes to me, she will find the gray area and find a way to do what she wants, of course she is going to do it. '' She almost laughed with love and resignation in her voice.

"What should I do?" She stroked the tombstone, going over her own name with her finger. "Any sign?" She asked trying to use irony to cover the longing in her voice.

It was the first time she really had the option of keeping someone loved by her side or not. That option had not been given to her when her father died.

Oh my sweet angel

Melancholic, she lay on the stone, it was so cold that her skin burned to the touch, but Christine ignored it as best she could. She rested her head on the stone, and sighed, in silence, finding the peace that had been torn from her

Christine closed her eyes and for the first time, she heard only silence, there were no bullets ringing in her ears, no glass shattering.

She stayed there for a long time, more than she should, as her skirt began to feel wet and her skin numb.

Christine did not speak during that time, after so many hours of traveling, she had much less to say that she thought. And it was comforting to be able to find peace in the silence again instead of having to over stimulate herself in order not to think.

A strange sound caressed her ears, mixed with the wind, imitate it until little by little, it took its true form.

The sound of a violin.

The melody warmed Christine's chest and made her heart sink. It was beautiful, it was sad, it was happy and melancholic, like the sweetest lost memory or the deepest pain, it was everything, and it was nothing, for its origin seemed to be the wind itself.

'' Papa? '' Christine called with wide and awake eyes, moving away from the stone.

There was only one violinist who had made her feel that way and he was dead under her feet, his violin under his arm rotting with him.

But that violin, where did that violin come from?

It was warm, it woke Christine from her frigid dream and was as sweet as her future was a month ago.

Christine felt equally lost, but now she had a beacon, a sign, guiding her way. She got up quickly and ran to the source of the sound, no matter how heavy her wet skirt had become. She lost her patience, she needed to know where that violin was coming from. She crossed the rows of graves, sometimes returning to the same row to check once again that the sound was not there.

The sound was so pure and ghostly, that it seemed to come from everywhere.

Her boots were muddy when she found it. Her footsteps had ruined the winter landscape by leaving brown puddles

It was Erika

She was standing on a raised grave a few feet above the ground, a violin on her shoulder being played with adoration and care. She was dressed very formal, in a purplish so dark that it almost looked black. In contrast, she was wearing a completely white cape and a black scarf covered her mouth and fell down one of her shoulders. Her white mask was almost lost with the color of her skin.

Being the only part of her visible, her eyes had all the power to paralyze her. So vast and seemingly empty, like a puddle of water that you don't realize is an enraged ocean until the realization that she won't let you go back at the cost hits you and your only option in drowning in them.

When Erika saw her, she stopped the tune abruptly, maintaining eye contact at all times. She leaned down to carefully lay the violin on the grave and unravel the scarf from her face gracefully. Christine debated whether she was wearing white gloves before remembering how pale her hands were.

''w-what you what are you doing here?' 'Christine stuttered surprised and dazzled.

She found herself unable to take her eyes off her.

Hela, a whispering voice behind her head. The myth of the Norse goddess of death whose half of the face was beautiful and the other was a skeleton came alive when she saw Erika surrounded by graves and dead flowers

Erika said nothing, a sigh came out of her pale mouth, forming a white cloud around her, that only supported the ethereal air she possessed.

What did Joseph Bouquet think before he died at her hands? What would he have thought of Erika? Would he have compared her to a goddess or a ghost? Was he scared or fascinated? There was something about Erika's expression with which she had never looked at Christine before, which made it easy for Christine to visualize herself scared by her. Her expression was neutral and therefore far from the kindness Christine had associated with her.

'' Why did you follow me here? '' Christine asked, her blue eyes wide open.

She shouldn't be here. That was her mourning and Erika shouldn't interrupt it. But Christine wasn't surprised to see her. Growing up as a viewer of the world had left sequels in Erika that had explained many of her behaviors and why she did things without considering people's privacy. That didn't excuse her but at least explained it. Was it a good time to condemn Gerald Carriere? It was always to Christine.

" You left on impulse, broken by mourning, guilt and pressure, if it was wise to let you go like this then I don't want to be." She said, very still, looking for some expression in Christine, so she could act in contrast to her.

" I can take care of myself. '' Christine said with a frown. She had to be independent in a world where she was worth nothing by herself, of course she could.

" That you can do not mean that you should always handle everything by yourself, it can be exhausting. ''Erika said and shrugged, unsure of what she was saying.

Erika could read it as an open book. After months of meeting her, Christine had not achieved the same.

"It could be true. " She admitted trying to hide her surprise because it was a possibility she had barely contemplated before.

There was a silence in which Christine looked down, shy.

"Are you not mad at me?" Christine asked almost childlike.

She had thrown Erika under a train and although it was for the common good, that didn't make Christine feel better or less guilty.

Erika sighed, dropping her arms to her sides '' No, of course not. It was my fault, I was going to tell you, but I was… distressed, kind of busy.'' She tilted her head to the side while raising an eyebrow in awkwardness.

Christine was too exhausted and drained to be mad at her, so an annoying sigh would have to work for now.

'' If you knew why you didn't tell me?'' She expressed frustrated approaching a couple of steps. ''And get down of there, that's disrespectful''

Erika snorted and sat above the crypt. Extending one of her legs and keeping the other folded, so she could rest her elbow on her knee and hold her head with her hand. It was a ... shameless position and Christine felt her cheeks burn for a second.

'' I don't think it bother… '' turned back to see the name on the grave '' Wolfgang? a lot, wow, his mother had to use my face as an inspiration. '' She said, raising her other hand in the air.

'' Erika!'' Christine scolding

'' All right! I'm going to leave the dead man alone.'' She said but she didn't show the minimum initiative of get off the grave. '' I knew everything from the beginning, Cholet thought that since phantom was a real person, he can't be 24/7 at the opera! Yes, well ... you know, Christine! '' She exclaimed quite frustrated with her situation.

''Why did you not tell me?''

''I was going to do it! But I had a couple of incidents and lost the continuity of time. It was my fault, I shouldn't have let you deal with this on your own.'' yes, lament wasn't her style and that annoyed Christine more than it should.

The lack of details was too frustrating for Christine to want to keep listening, it seemed that there was something that embarrassed her or that she didn't want to say.

''Enough. '' Christine raised her hand to ask for a pause. ''we both made our decisions and maybe they weren't the best, the important thing is… what will we do to fix this?''

Erika couldn't look less carefree '' Nothing. '' She shrugged.

'' What do you mean with nothing?! ''

'' Nobody cares! Especially the police, if the case stagnates, they will have to let it go someday and if I have something it is time and patience. I don't think leaving is going to have any real use either. I was absent for many years and the rumors in the opera continued whether I was there or not, the phantom's presence does not depend on me. '' Erika said with her fist on her cheek, clearly resigned.

"So, your proposal is ... to leave everything as it is and just wait?" Christine asked and her anger melted in disbelief.

It was so simple, it was so stupidly simple that Christine just decided that no, just no.

''Exactly. ''

''But they're sure you will attack me that night! Is there something they are not telling me, what is it ?!'' She demanded to know.

'' Yes, sure, Leroux is not stupid, his plan is much more 'complex' than he let you know, and I know there are things he is keeping for himself but remember that this is my theater. I know every hallway and I know where each door leads, he won't find me. ''

''... How are you so sure? '' Christine said after a moment of silence, a hand on her chest. It sounded reasonable but asking her not to worry about Erika was impossible.

" I just know. '' Erika said, shaking her head, unconcerned. If she was honest, she shouldn't be, she knew too little to afford that luxury. But if she had Christine safe, the rest didn't matter.

'' They want to kill you!'' Christine's face went flushed in anger.

'' And that? Do you think they made it?'' Erika mocked, and although not of her, Christine felt it personal.

'' Now you're being stupid and careless! ''

'' It doesn't change that I know what I'm doing.''

'' Oh seriously? You will come to predict how the police and people will act when you seem to have no idea how the interaction between people works? '' Christine exclaimed very angry, burying her fingernails in her palm.

'' Go deeper into that Christine…'' Erika asked very quietly, but not angry, her fist under her jaw

'' Oh god, you are telling me about how to avoid getting killed, and the last time I saw you before that, you confessed a murder and then before that you ... uncle, or whatever Mr. Carrière is yours! Told me how he made you grow up in the basement! It's bizarre Erika and now you followed me here and- and. '' Christine rambled awkwardly burying her fingers in her hair

'' And what?'' Erika raise an eyebrow in interest, staring at her.

" Well, it's weird to say the least. " She said, her anger freezing at the intensity of her brown gaze.

''Tell me, do you run from me? Are you afraid of me? '' Erika said.

Erika could never forget the absolute terror that gripped her when she realized that Christine had left Paris. Would it end like this? Suddenly, in the middle of the chaos and without a goodbye kiss. She couldn't bear to lose her heart that way.

The bitter taste that exploded in her mouth at the thought that Christine had fled from the closest place in her heart in fear of her mistakes could only be compared to having her mouth flooded with blood. And she knew that taste.

'' I don't know what you are capable of doing, and not knowing that scares me, but not of you, never of you. Don't ask dumb questions. " Christine shook her head without a single doubt on her face.

Erika was drowning silently in her own anguish, so those words were a relief to her scared heart.

Christine immediately noticed the change in Erika's gaze, she looked lighter, more awake and aware of her surroundings. It was when Christine realized, Erika had a limit and a weakness. It was Christine herself. She never saw it that way until now, as she realized the immense power she had over Erika.

Considering the power that Erika had over Christine herself, she could not explain why that realization surprised her so much.

''I do what I must do, like it or not. If I'm alive right now, it's because I refuse to be ruined by anyone but myself. '' She said as pretentious as ever. She had started gesturing with her hands again. Much more like herself.

Maybe it was because she hadn't seen her in person in weeks, but Christine didn't notice how tense Erika was just a minute ago.

'' You are going to get yourself killed, idiot. '' Christine panicked, unable to contain the urge to scream.

She quickly shortened the distance between them, being just a foot away

She had agreed with herself that worrying about her was silly, but it was impossible to fight with that impulse that told her she was going to lose her angel no matter how much she fought for her.

'' I'll be fine, Christine. Calm down, everything will be fine. '' Erika finally obeyed Christine and stood up of the crypt.

Her height intimidated Christine for a moment. She had almost forgotten how tall Erika was, almost a head taller, even though she wasn't wearing high heels today.

'' Don't tell me to calm down! I have more than enough reason to be mad at you right now! '' And she had them, but Christine was more scared than angry.

'' Fine, but listen to me, nothing's going to happen to me, take it for granted." Erika tried to calm her down, taking her by the forearms.

Christine wasn't ready to let that subject go.

'' Eri- ''

''No, listen to me, nothing will happen to me, neither Cholet will catch me nor Leroux nor his squad of hard heads. I'll hide, I'll leave that night if you want, take it as a fact and now tell me, what are you worried about? '' Erika ask her, her grip became stronger, without being enough to hurt her.

Christine stopped repelling when she lost herself in her eyes.

Christine unconsciously crossed her arms to put her hands on Erika's, while thinking about her answer

Which was nothing

If Erika remained safe, what else did it matter? With her deal with Cholet he no longer had the pressure of Faust breathing in the neck. If she performed at the gala, she could fulfill her desire to return to the stage and sing without anything ruining it.

But above all, Christine couldn't ignore what she was seeing after begging so much for it.

She had asked for a sign and for one reason or another Erika was now here. It felt right, it felt heavenly heavenly and now that she could believe that everything would be fine, the world finally made sense again.

She had asked for a sign and she knew how to recognize when she saw one.

The relief came out in the form of a white sigh and the weight on her shoulders vanished making her feel she could move again.

Maybe she was being dumb, Erika didn't need paranormal signals to be ... creepy, and she said it in the most affectionate way possible

She had the option to take what she wanted, her, and give it for a sign of destiny. For the first time the universe gave her the option to choose, and Christine chose her.

Christine sighed, dropping her arms at her sides, in surrender.

'' Are you okay? '' Erika asked confused, removing some unruly curls from Christine's face, being careful not to touch her skin.

'' Erika? '' Christine called without answering her question.

Erika raised her eyebrow as a sign that she was listening to her.

'' I want to see your face, she wants to see you '' She asked gently, looking her in the eye, saying I love you with her eyes.

Even so, the masked woman immediately tensed. Her hand flew to the less blessed side of her face. Her first instinct was to refuse, hide from Christine.

But she couldn't say no to her sweet sad look. The memory of Christine's lips on her shattered cheek came to her memory and that gesture painted of love and innocence warmed her heart enough to allow it to speak above her fear.

And it said it was worth it. Christine was not going to reject her, and Erika would not find disgust or fear in her eyes.

She looked at both sides even knowing very well that the cemetery was empty. With unstable hands she took off her mask, her eyes staring at Christine at all time.

Erika hear Christine gasp under her breath and saw her face turn white, the effect lasted only a few seconds before returning to her normal color. It was seconds where Erika's heart stopped, and she was unable to breathe.

Christine was able to find her in the strange features. She had forgotten how bad it was and how painful it seemed, but it was still her maestra, and she will get used to it. The mask was the only barrier that Christine could tear down, and she felt so close to her now.

'' That's my Erika.'' It was the first thing Christine said cradling her soft cheek. '' Can I? '' She pointed to the other cheek where her deformity was.

'' You can. '' Erika forced herself to say in a small gasp.

Carefully, Christine cradled both sides of Erika's face and stood on tiptoe while Erika bowed to her unconsciously. The masked woman's skin was as cold as a piece of ice.

Only when Erika saw Christine's loving eyes free of all fear and covered in a charming curiosity, was she able to breathe again.

Christine left a tender kiss on each of her cheeks, all with gentleness and sweetness.

And Erika shivered, and each of her barriers crashed.

She was unable to continue to maintain her weight on two legs and fell back, sitting on the crypt once more.

'' Christine... '' Erika said in a stifled voice while crying uncontrollably, seeing her as if she had never seen a human being before.

'' Why are you crying? '' Christine asked worried, wiping her tears with her thumbs. Friction and the moisture of her tears took away part of her facial makeup, revealing part of the blue veins in her cheekbone.

Erika looked miserable, sad and tired. Her expression of sorrow rejuvenated her eyes and gave them a childish grief. Those were bittersweet tears of relief, as if she could breathe again after almost drowning.

'' I thought I would never see you again" She confessed. The power of the vulnerability of her eyes immediately defeated Christine.

'' Why did you think that, my love? '' Christine asked in anguish.

'' I looked for you everywhere and I couldn't find you, I thought you were never going back." She said in a desperate sob, looking atChristine with sadness and relief in her eyes.

Christine put her arms tightly around her neck and hugged her against her chest with all her strength. She used a hand to gently stroke her hair.

'' I left and I didn't tell you anything ..." She realized and the guilt she felt made her feel sick ''Oh my angel, my love…''

'' Don't leave me! '' Erika cried against her chest.

'' Never. You are my best friend, my maestra, I want you to be with me. '' Christine said, kissing her head, running her fingers through her long brown strands. ''Leaving you was never an option, I will not leave again so please don't cry anymore, I'm so sorry. '' She cried too.

She had talked to Jean Claude, so he could explain her absence, but she said nothing to Erika. if she had not been surprised when she saw here it was because she knew that Erika knew about everything that happened in her domain.

Christine knew that Erika would find out, but she didn't think about what would happen before. Her Erika, her sweet, sensitive and gentle Erika. Who had cried in her skirt until she ran out of tears, who was afraid of being abandoned, and Christine had abandoned her.

The soprano joined her forehead with Erika's and raised her hands again to hold her face again. There were so many things she wanted to say but the lump in her throat and her own sobs didn't let her do it.

'' Could you forgive me Christine? '' Erika pleaded in a sob. Her crying seemed to make it difficult for her to breathe

'' Shhh. '' Christine cooed trying to calm her. '' I am the one who should ask for your forgiveness, I abandoned you, I fled from my problems and made everything worse. I'm sorry, I was wrong, Erika, and I am very sorry for leaving like that. ''

Erika held Christine's waist with an iron grip. She realized that the tiny blonde was trembling, so she covered her with her white cape and Christine smiled. Although her tremor was just her emotions trying to find a place in her.

Christine had hugged her to comfort Erika, but she also felt so safe and comforted in her arms.

'' I'm so sorry, Christine, for everything. '' That was a vague statement that Christine understood, but she didn't expect her to go deeper into it. '' For making you torment yourself because of me, for hurting you so much that you couldn't fight with the need to come here. I have neglected myself and I did not measure how much that would afflict you. Tell me, can you forgive me? Am I still the object of your love?'' She asked and broke the union of their foreheads to look her in the eye. Her noseless face asking for love

Christine slipped her hands off her face, running her thumbs through Erika's lips for a moment. She had bitten her lips in nervousness and now they were sore and covered in tears.

Love did not heal everything and sometimes it was not enough, but there was much more which was worth fighting for Erika.

'' You are my love.'' She confessed, looking for her icy hand to entwine their fingers. ''And you want my forgiveness? I have nothing to forgive you, but I will give it to you if you give me yours.'' And she smiled broadly imitating the shy smile that Erika dedicated to her.

She leaned down to kiss her cheek again. the texture was hard and uneven, like leather covered by candle wax, strange to her, but it was still Erika.

Erika was invaded by nerves and her heart beat hard in anticipation of what her tiny blonde was going to say.

'' I … there are things that I don't understand why you did them, and we can't change your past, I know that it torments you, I know, I can feel your anguish as if it were mine, so... we can only hope that the future is kind to us, and do our best to be kind to ourselves. '' Christine took Erika's hand and raised it to kiss her palm and the inside of her wrist ''Can we?''

Erika became a bundle of nerves. Why did she suddenly feel so nervous? It was just Christine, her Christine. Those eyes would be her death. Big, beautiful, blue; so helpless and pure, as if they could contain the world in them. Those eyes could be so cruel, so merciless.

"We can," Erika confirmed with her heart beating in her throat.

"Yes … and I, I'm also sorry for saying those things about you, you are neither stupid nor careless nor anything like that, you are wonderful, Erika. You are… you.'' She shrugged with affectionate resignation.

'' Is that supposed to be a compliment? I should be offended.'' Erika managed to joke feeling her mouth suddenly dry.

'' Oh, come here." Christine said, clinging to her bony waist, she was always surprised at how much her arms sank between the layers of clothing before reaching her. "I have told you that your hugs are the best?''

"That's funny," Erika murmured, wrapping Christine's curls between her fingers.

"Why?'' Christine raised her eyebrow.

"I was going to say that about yours," She said, smiling sweetly with all her teeth.

Christine laughed and if the warmth of her smile shifted in real heat, she would have melted the snow around her.

'' I missed you so much.'' Christine said.

Both melted in each other's arms. And Erika kissed Christine's head and cheeks, making her laugh with joy and redness in her cheeks.

Erika never responded to her confession, but Christine didn't think she was wrong when she said that this was her way of saying 'I missed you too'

Soo, Erika has abandonment problems and Christine may or may not have a bit of PTSD from the Titania incident. This chapter is longer than I predicted because I did not expect to include so much fluff, but well your characters know what they want.
Also, I described it that way because I always rely on the 2004 production but Erika is wearing the outfit she wears in the final scene, yes, the same outfit she was supposed to die in. this chapter becomes depressing once you think that Erika is canonically dead
and finally, now this story is also available in Spanish, but in wattpad, it is the same but a little (just a little) more polished and I edited it a bit so that it could be read without prior knowledge of phantom, I decided to join home and watlc in a single book, and it can be found as ''El fantasma de la opera: Donde mil amantes lloran'' by nessieray1988, which by the way is the same account I have since I was 13 years old, I have called myself nessie in Internet for a long time. And as a reminder, I'm also nessie665 on tumblr
and well, that's it, thank you for reading. Consider leaving a comment if you like the story, thanks ❤