Phantom belongs to Gaston Lerox and Andrew Lloyd Weber
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Here's chapter 3. Enjoy!
"We have to go, Christine."
His voice betrayed him and allowed a hint of panic, another characteristic which was strangely human. His tone knocked her out of her reverie and she looked away.
"I know. The mob; they could be coming at any second." She replied, her panic surpassing his.
Not letting go of her hands he looked behind him and cursed himself. In his haste he had neglected to pull the lever allowing the portcullis to rise. He looked back to Christine. Her eyes followed his every movement, reading his mind and pleading for him to hurry, to find a solution; to fix this.
There isn't time. His eyes said. The lever was too far away.
He looked down at the murky water surrounding them, rippling with their movement. Usually he found the sound relaxing, but now it served only to irritate him; a constant reminder of where he was and the pressing time which only served to ruin his reunion. Knowing he might only have moments left The Phantom bent down and took a firm grip on the gate. He had never lifted it by hand before but there was no other option.
With all his might he began pulling upwards. Christine stepped back. She looked behind her and although she could not yet hear or see anything, a sense of foreboding was settled heavily in her stomach and was beginning to rise. She could almost imagine their shadows looming around the corner. What if there wasn't time to escape? She hadn't really thought about what those people were capable of. All of a sudden a surge of overwhelming fear washed over her; she feared for her life, but more for her Angel's; which came as somewhat of a surprise to her.
With this she stepped forward and tried to offer what little assistance she could. The Phantom strained; the portcullis gate was unbelievably heavy but he was strong. Years of climbing ropes and stairs had seen to that. More than that, Christine's life was at stake.
To the relief of both Christine and The Phantom the gate began to move.
"Good." He smiled through gritted teeth, a slight hint of relief in his voice. "Keep pulling."
Christine was convinced that she had had little or nothing to do with this triumph, and that he knew this but she was elated just the same.
One step at a time.
A few more seconds of straining and It was up. He held It above his head while she rushed underneath it and dropped it as soon as he could. He stared at her, both of them out of breath.
To his surprise she embraced him immediately, holding him tightly and sighing with relief. Mostly unused to contact, The Phantom did not return it at first. He inhaled steeply at the sudden contact and Christine either did not notice or pretended not to. She seemed completely oblivious to his apprehension, thankfully. She seemed oblivious to everything around her. Slowly he wrapped his arms around her in return and tightened his hold.
Unlike Christine, The Phantom knew exactly what was happening and exactly where he was and was completely beguiled by the situation. Although he did not quite understand the meaning of her actions he allowed himself to be, for the moment lost in the complete bliss of what was happening to him. For years he had dreamed of this moment with his Christine, a point in time and trust where she would willingly embrace him and lose herself in the action as she was now. As a child he had yearned for the physical contact of others; for a simple embrace that others took so for granted, for a pat on the back, a touch on the arm, a kiss... As he grew older he began to stop needing these things, needing the affection of others; He began telling himself that he would never have them and in doing so destroyed any childish need for approval or attention. Although he knew he would never be like everyone else, he became sated with the semblance of a life he lived. The world taught him he could never have the things he so wished for; so he stopped wishing. They wanted a Ghost, a Phantom... and that is what he became.
And then that kiss...
That kiss which he told himself he would never be allowed to have had broken down the walls he had spent a lifetime building. The kiss had broken down his barriers and now this... this was his redemption. This was the world telling him that all his life he had been wrong; maybe he had a chance at happiness.
Just maybe.
At last he began to relax. Forgetting himself he buried his face in her chocolate curls, taking in this gloriously surreal moment in time- even if it was to be the only one he would have. This was their first encounter that was honest and unhindered by stories, facades and complications. Neither of them spoke; they were at last just a man and woman sharing an embrace.
It would not have been broken if not for the sudden yell which echoed though the caverns and The Phantoms reverie.
They broke apart.
"They're coming."He uttered the words Christine was dreading. "We must make haste." He told her sternly. She noticed his demeanor immediately change. He was tense, like an animal readying for combat, his gaze so intense that it might have burned a hole in the portcullis gate that had shut behind them. He did not look at her; his unwavering focus was on the cavern behind her. It was as if someone had pulled a lever and he was The Phantom again.
She wasn't sure how she felt about that.
"Come." He looked at her and offered his hand.
After a stab of déjà vu she hastily took it and they rushed to the embankment, their pace quickening as the depth of water decreased.
Another yell sounded from somewhere within the cavern.
"This way!" It said in an unfamiliar and harsh voice. It was closer and clearer than the last.
"They're close now." The Phantom whispered to a clearly panic stricken Christine. He turned to her as they reached the embankment.
"I'm..." She began a little too loudly but was silenced as a finger was placed over her lips.
Shh. He mouthed.
"I'm scared." She whispered, looking up at him for support. Had she made the right decision?
He is all you have right now.
Do you trust him? Do you even know him?
"Do you trust me?" he asked, as if reading her mind. He held out his hand once more, the other clasping a cape he had picked up in his haste.
We are running out of time.
I'm in love with you.
We are running out of time.
Please say yes.
"Do you?"
