Finally! I worked on this chapter for like forever, then finally decided it was so long that it should be submitted in two different chapters, then when I tried to update, I couldn't submit my documents! Thank goodness that problem's solved now... so here's the chapter! The next one will definitely come sooner!
- - -
Sunlight streamed in brightly through an open window as the Vicomtess de Chagny strode over to her wardrobe. She frowned slightly at the cold breeze, then purposefully crossed the room, closed the window, and pulled the gossamer curtain over it. Her eyes skimmed over the view, the tall buildings and snow-covered trees, the carriages quickly making their way down the street with finely dressed passengers inside them.
I have to do it today, she thought, her mouth set in a decisive line. Start the new year without any doubts, free of ghosts... A quiet knock at the door interrupted her wandering thoughts, and she turned around.
"Christine? Darling, are you awake?" the Vicomte spoke through the door. Christine smiled softly, pulling the sash of her robe a little tighter.
"Yes, dear. Come in," she replied, and within a moment the door opened to reveal the smiling face of her husband. He closed it noiselessly behind him and embraced her, grinning into her hair and inhaling her sweet aroma. "...Raoul..." Christine whispered uncertainly after enjoying his touch for a moment, and he stepped back to look at her.
His eyes surveyed her intently, and he placed his hands on her shoulders. "Christine, you haven't been yourself lately. Don't think I haven't noticed. What's wrong, my love?" His expression was concerned and loving, but it gave Christine little comfort.
"It's nothing to be too concerned about..." she began, unable to meet his gaze. "But I... I've been feeling so... guilty lately, Raoul."
"Guilty? Guilty for what?" There was a hint of amusement in Raoul's voice, but it faded when he looked into her chocolate brown irises. "Oh, Christine... you don't feel guilty about... leaving him, do you?" Now his tone held a hint of edginess in it as her eyes betrayed her answer. "For God's sake, Christine, he's a murderer! You haven't forgotten how he almost took my life, have you? He set fire to the opera house, kidnapped you, killed Piangi and the stagehand... How could you possibly feel guilty?"
Christine trembled slightly. "But Raoul... he was once my... my Angel of Music. I know he isn't any longer, but I cannot completely disregard those years of utter kindness. And besides, if he had not scared Carlotta away the night of the Hannibal gala, and had not demanded that I replace her... it's possible that you and I might not have been reunited."
The look she received from her husband then was enough to both scare her and break her heart. "Are you saying I wouldn't have noticed you, Christine?" His voice layered with hurt, but also with a touch of anger. "...I love you, Christine. I could feel your very heartbeat the moment I stepped into that opera house."
"I love you, too," she murmured, meeting his lips swiftly. "But, please... I need to bury the memories. Let's start a new year, a new life... without any ghosts of the past."
Raoul was silent for a few moments, a bit relieved with her confession of love. "...Very well, darling. What do you suggest we do?"
"I've been thinking about it for a while now, and I think I need you to take me back to the Opera Populaire. Just to leave my memories there, forget everything that took place there." At her husband's unsure expression, Christine kissed him again. "I'm not having second thoughts about the choice I made those months ago. I chose you, and if I had to choose again, I'd do the same thing. I'm so glad that I married you, Raoul. I feel like the luckiest woman in Europe."
Hearing that made Raoul smile, and he pulled Christine to him and kissed her passionately. "Then I suppose it would be foolish to refuse your request. However, if I do this for you, then there's something I ask for you to do in return."
"And what's that?" Christine asked innocently. She caught the seductively suggestive glint in Raoul's eyes, and laughed, throwing her arms around him and meeting his mouth.
- - -
"So... who used to use this room again?" Alyssa questioned, sitting on the narrow lounge in Christine's old dressing room and appraising a small antique compact in her hand. "Was she like some rich diva or something?"
Erik sat opposite her in a plush armchair, seeming a bit depressed as he gazed around the room, his chin resting upon his right hand. "She was a singer in the opera house. I... never bothered to find out her name. All I wanted was a way into the opera house, after all." The lie came surprisingly easily from his lips, and he glanced at Alyssa to find that she didn't question it. He let out a small, shallow breath, and stopped short when he found himself shaking.
Unfortunately for him, Alyssa had seen him tremble. "What's wrong, Erik?" He looked away, hoping that she would just let the subject drop, but she did no such thing. "Oh, come on. Remember what I told you before? When you're angry or sad or all... I don't know... emo or something, tell me!"
"Emo?" Erik's visible eyebrow raised slightly. "What is that?"
Alyssa shrugged, shifting her gaze to the ground. "...Suicidal, depressed, morbid... take your pick." The smile was now entirely absent from her expression, and Erik rose to his feet. He reached down, tucked a finger under her chin, and tilted her face toward him.
"I'm fine, Alyssa. Honestly, I am. A little tired, yes, but other than that... there's nothing wrong." He grinned at her, and she could tell that this time it was sincere. Erik took her hand and pulled her gently to her feet, then took a step away. "Now, would you care to see the stage?" Anything to get away from here.
A smile graced Alyssa's features as she nodded, and he swiftly led her to the charred hallway, closing the door behind them. "This way," Erik murmured, walking down the hallway and up a small flight of stairs. Alyssa followed him slowly, her eyes taking in the inside of the opera house for the second time. After a minute or so, they came upon the last bend in the hallway, and when she rounded it, Alyssa was shocked to see the ghostly remains of badly burned curtains.
"Damn," she cursed, "what happened here?" Erik made no reply, and as Alyssa opened her mouth to ask him again, she inhaled a breathful of dust and ash. She coughed violently as her lungs rejected it all, and Erik whirled around quickly in surprise. Alyssa placed one hand on his chest and leaned into him slightly as she turned her head away, and he waited patiently until she could breathe normally again.
"Are you all right?" he questioned, and she nodded, swallowing thickly and looking up at him. His eyes delved deeply into her own, speeding up her heart rate considerably as she stared back, and for one crazy moment she was certain that she was going to kiss him. At the last second, she shook herself, banishing all romantic thoughts to the back of her mind, and stepped away. Erik looked in the opposite direction, his face entirely unreadable, then he turned back to her and motioned for her to walk ahead.
Alyssa's gaze trailed up the walls and to the high dome ceiling above, and she whistled softly. "Damn, that's a kick-ass ceiling," she muttered to herself, and Erik smiled at her, by now familiar with the term she used.
"I'm not sure I would use those exact words, but yes, it's a beautiful piece of architecture. I love the acoustics myself. You know..." He leaned close to her ear and gestured to the dome. "...anything you say up there will echo..." He swept his arms in front of him. "...around this entire room."
A quiet, breathy laugh passed Alyssa's lips. "Seriously? Cool." She strode to center stage and marveled at the size of the building. "It's almost as big as the dining hall at my grandmother's."
Erik let out an amused sigh, mildly surprised. "You're not serious."
"Duh, course not. Just wondered how you'd react." Alyssa nudged him playfully with her shoulder, and he grasped her wrist and twirled her in a circle.
"Sing once again with me,
Our strange duet...
My power over you
Grows stronger yet...
And though you turn from me
To glance behind,
The Phantom of the Opera is there...
Inside your mind..." Erik sang, his voice enticing and mystifying. Alyssa smiled brightly, and turned her gaze the the vast expanse of the opera house, her eyes wandering over everything she could possibly see. She noticed, after some time, the silence ringing in her ears, and looked to see Erik staring at her once again.
"...What?" she asked softly, her features still echoing her previous grin.
"You have such a lovely voice, Alyssa," he murmured smoothly, striding toward her. "I don't know why you seem so determined to keep it a secret." She stepped back instinctively, her expression darkening quickly. "You've been reading the sheet music to the song I just sang, I know you have. I also happen to know that you've memorized the words. ...Sing."
Alyssa shook her head. "I'm not a soprano..." But her tone told Erik that she was unsure with refusing him, and he smirked to himself. Such are the perks of having a rather hypnotic voice...
His eyes bore into her gently, and it was clear that she was on the verge of agreeing. "Sing." It was barely a whisper, hardly a command, but Alyssa couldn't deny it. "Simply sing it in accordance with your range," Erik added when he caught the uncertainty in her eyes. "Now... begin..."
"...In sleep he sang to me,
In dreams he came...
That voice which calls to me,
And speaks my name..." Alyssa sent him a hesitant glance, and he nodded encouragingly, gesturing for her to continue.
"And do I dream again?
For now I find...
The Phantom of the Opera is there
Inside my mind..." Alyssa fell silent after the last word, her breathing slightly more labored than usual. Erik gave her a half-grin and applauded softly, but she blushed and refused to meet his eyes.
Somewhat put-off by her secluded attitude, Erik cleared his throat and closed the distance between them. "There's no need to be so shy, my dear. You have a beautiful voice, so don't be afraid to let people hear it."
"Liar. You know it's nowhere near as cool as yours."
Erik laughed quietly, and finally Alyssa turned to face him. "It's beautiful. Trust me, I know a good voice when I hear one, and though it true that you're not much of a soprano, you're a very good alto. Why don't you like to sing in front of others?"
His words were met by a shrug of Alyssa's shoulders. "I don't know... I just don't like to sound stupid in front of crowds. It's embarrassing."
One of Erik's eyebrows raised a fraction of an inch, and he swept his arm once again toward the rows and rows of empty, charred seats. "I imagine the alarming amount of people in here makes you nervous, non?" Alyssa giggled and shoved him gently, and he grinned at her, his hand coming to her waist and pulling her into a swift embrace.
- - -
"Monsieur, madame, we have arrived." Raoul turned his head and stared intently at Christine's face, watching closely for any unusual effects added to her expression. She held his hand softly as they both alighted from the carriage, and he drew his arm protectively around her as they set sights upon the Opera Populaire.
"Be back here in an hour," Raoul instructed, handing a few coins to the driver before focusing on Christine again. "Now, my dear... are you sure you want to go... inside?" His wife nodded, her mouth set in a determined line though she couldn't remember ever being so scared. Raoul embraced her lovingly and led her toward the doors of the opera house.
Christine's eyes took a moment to adjust to the absence of light as she looked around, and Raoul stepped casually closer to her. She knew why he'd done it, and merely took hold of his hand again. I'm not going to leave you, she thought, lightly meeting his lips and walking toward the giant elegant staircase.
"My god..." Raoul cursed as he gazed at the destroyed remnants of the Opera Populaire. "He... that thing... did all this..."
"Raoul." Christine's voice was hollow, and low. "Please. There's no need to show his memory any malcontent." Her attitude toward him had seemed to become much darker within moments, and Raoul regretted ever speaking. He sighed, and was about to turn and leave, when something very unexpected happened.
- - -
"Well, then, if you have the energy to be so smug," Alyssa muttered, stepping away and brushing a strand of hair out of her face, "why don't you sing something? Sing that one song... "Music of the Night"... or whatever you call it. Let's see how it sounds with the... proper acoustics."
Erik smirked, his gaze trailing around the enormous room, then he met her eyes and spoke. "My home has the proper acoustics."
Alyssa laughed and nudged him. "What's this? The master of all voices refuses to sing?"
Now it was Erik's turn to laugh. "Did I say that?" He smirked slightly, then took a deep breath. "If you insist, my dear..."
"Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation.
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination...
Silently the senses abandon their defenses..."
"Louder, Erik," Alyssa murmured. "They can hardly hear you in the last row." She smiled at him, and Erik rolled his eyes dramatically (in accordance to her own fashion), but he complied.
"Slowly, gently, night unfurls it's splendor
Grasp it, sense it
Tremulous and tender
Turn your face away from the garish light of day
Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light
And listen to the Music of the Night..."
- - -
Christine tensed instantly when she heard the song, her eyes widening to twice their normal size. Oh god... His voice, it's still in my head! She looked fearfully at Raoul, whose expression was almost as strange. He grabbed her and pulled her into his arms, holding her head against his chest so that she couldn't search the room.
That demon... He's still alive! Raoul thought angrily, his eyes flying around the room, examining every shadow, every small nook. I should never have brought Christine here! That monster wants to take her back! Christine raised her head at last and stepped away, swiftly walking up the staircase.
"Angel of Music..." she whispered quietly, entirely unaware of what she was doing. Her pace quickened, and she could faintly hear Raoul behind her. Part of her wanted nothing more than to keep running, to find her Angel again, and her right mind screamed at her to stop, to return to Raoul. But Erik sang on, oblivious to the chaos he was causing outside the enormous room, unintentionally calling Christine closer with every note, every word, every chord.
"Christine!" Raoul cried as she reached out for the handle of the gigantic door.
- - -
Haha, another evil cliffy! Oh, about the M versus T vote I had you guys do... it pretty much broke even on both sides... but I've decided to keep it T. I'll probably write a censored and an uncensored version, and you can email me requesting the uncensored version if you want it. It makes it easier for me, just in case anyone I'm close with (coughparentscough) decides to read this... Thank you all for voting, hope you liked this chapter! And the more reviews, the faster the update...