Music
He stood quickly, his attention drawn to the trembling figure that now stood in the threshold of his bedroom. Above them they would hear the yelling and the stomping of feet as the mob moved through the Opera house, moving lower and lower, getting closer and closer to where they were. He'd wanted to be left alone now, to let them find him and end his life; after the years of haunting and harassing, they had every right to. Had it not been for the young singer who stood before him now, Ivan would have stayed where he had been, covering the eyes of the monkey and singing softly the lyrics of a song that had brought so much joy just nights ago.
There were trails of tears down Alfred's cheeks- Ivan supposed there were some down his as well. They'd both cried: Alfred in fear, and Ivan in despair. Even now, he still wept, but silently, for he would not pain Alfred's heart any further with his sadness.
But there was a weep, a single, soft sob when Alfred held out his hand, revealing the ring Ivan had so forcibly put on his finger during Don Juan Triumphant. It's diamonds had sparkled in the lights of the stage, holding so much promise and passion in their light, but now they glowed and dim hue in the lights of his shortening candles, and the fire they once held was no more then a dull ache.
He forced himself to move, cringing at the fear that flashed in his student's eyes as he approached. It was not from his face; Alfred had grown used to the sight in the time since his mask had been ripped from him, but from him, from his very presence. Ivan reached out, his hand trembling as he moved closer, his fingers curling over Alfred's to close his fingers around the ring, keeping it pressed into his hand.
"Alfred, I love you."
The words were soft, broken, even pleading. In them was a trace of hope, and yet also an element of sorrow that shot it back down. Alfred had already made his choice, and the young Vicomte was waiting for him at the boat. Still, despite his betrayal, the words brought a sob from Alfred's lips, which turned to soft weeping and he held the ring tight in his hand. Ivan could feel his hot tears dripping onto the back of his hand, and his throat ran dry as Ivan watched his love weep before him. A gentle kiss was pressed to his hand, before Alfred slowly brought himself to withdraw. He looked upon him again, his mentor, his stalker, his Angel, and turned away from him for the last time, and left him alone in his room. The moment the Alfred left his side, the Phantom collapsed and he wept.
"Say you'll share with me, one love, one lifetime."
The words echoed off the walls of his liar, nearly covered by the yelling of the mob, which had gotten considerably louder. Those words, which at one point had held so much love and joy, now sounded like a tearful swan song in the Phantom's ears. He knew who was to respond to those words, and cringed when he heard,
"Say the word, and I will follow you."
Away from Ivan, at the shore of the lake where the boat rested, ready for departure, stood the two lovers who'd caused the Phantom's suffering. The young Vicomte Arthur stood on the boat, his hand extended for his childhood love to come aboard, a sad, yet hopeful smile on his lips as he awaited Alfred to take his hand.
Yet, even as the words were sang, as their promise remade, his hand was not taken. Alfred looked at the man before him and saw the boy he'd grown up with - and nothing more. His heart hadn't throbbed so horribly for Arthur and it did for Ivan; he was so foolish as to have not noticed it now. So, he reached out, just as his Angel and done to him, and closed Arthur's hand. He didn't stay, he couldn't bring himself to look at the Vicomte's face as he turned his back and retreated to where the Phantom lay weeping.
Ivan felt hands carding through his hair, soft, gentle hands that felt so warm yet foreign to him. His breath was taken from his lips and slowly, he rose his head, looking into the soft blue eyes of the young man he'd grown to love so horribly.
"Share each day with me, each night, each morning."
Those words held their love again, a love not for Vicomte Kirkland, but for him, for the Phantom of the Opera. And as Ivan pulled him into his tight embrace, holding him close and kissing him passionately as the Vicomte left alone on the boat, he knew that his music had only just begun.
This one was a crossover with The Phantom of the Opera. Yes, I did change the ending so that he goes to the Phantom- bite me.
Reviews keep the story going.