Wow, Chapter 7 already! And thank you for the amazing comments-they've promoted me to write faster. This also continues from the movie, but as you will see, there's going to be something quite different, or at least it was never mentioned in the movie... ;) These characters, lyrics, and ideas (Well, some of them) do not belong to me, but the genius Andrew Lloyd Webber.
Christine looked at the rose she held in her hand. How could it be? After these years, her Angel had randomly appeared tonight. Could he have possibly played a part in getting her the lead role? But no, she only had seen the Phantom of the Opera make the scenery crash. Unless...
There was a knock at the door. Thinking it was Meg or Madame Giry, she called, "Come in".
To her surprise, Raoul walked in with a bouquet of flowers. "Raoul!" she smiled. From above, her Angel looked on in disgust.
"Little Lotte let her mind wander. Little Lotte said, 'Am I fonder of dolls or of goblins, or of shoes? Or of riddles or of frocks'", Raoul said, going back to memories of their childhood.
"Or those picnics in the attic", she replied, going along with it.
"Or of chocolates", Raoul said, admiring the little girl who had somehow grown into a woman along the way.
"Father playing the violin", Christine said, smiling.
"As we read to each other-dark stories of the north", he said back.
"No. 'Whatever best', Lotte said, 'is when I'm asleep in my bed. And the Angel of Music sings songs in my head'", Christine sang.
"The Angel of Music sings songs in my head", they both sang, harmonizing.
Raoul hugged her. "You sang like an angel tonight".
"Father said, 'When I'm in heaven, child, I will send the Angel of Music to you. My father is dead, Raoul. And I have been visited by the Angel of Music", she told him. She thought about her Angel's beautiful voice filling her head...
Raoul raised an eyebrow, but, thinking that she was joking, smiled and went on. "Oh, no doubt of it. And now, we go to supper", he got up and headed toward the door.
"No, Raoul. The Angel of Music is very strict", she said. Christine had no idea where this idea was coming from. Her Angel hadn't visited her in years! What made her think this now? Did she not want to go with Raoul tonight...?
"Well I shan't keep you up late", he laughed, joking.
"No Raoul. No", Christine reasoned.
"You must change. I'll order my carriage. Two minutes, Little Lotte", he left and closed the door.
"No, Raoul, wait!" She stood up, but he was already gone. She didn't want to go with him.
What she didn't know was that her Angel had heard all of that, and had turned the key to her door to lock it. He put the key in his pocket so no one could get in.
Christine sighed and decided to ignore Raoul's invitation. She just didn't want to go, not yet anyway. She changed into her nightgown, and was tying the strings of her robe when the candles blew out. All of them, just like that.
Only her Angel could do this. But why? He was never this mysterious. She looked up and, panicking, ran to the door.
She had just grabbed the handle when a very familiar voice came from overhead.
"Insolent boy, this slave of fashion. Basking in your glory. Ignorant fool! This brave young suitor. Sharing in my, triumph!"
Christine was shaking. Never before had she heard her Angel sing so angrily. He sounded so mad, and it was nothing like the soft, sweet lullaby's he sang to her as a child.
"Angel I hear you, speak, I listen. Stay by my side, guide me. Angel my soul was weak, forgive me. Enter at last, master", she sang back. Her voice quaked with fear that he was mad at her also.
Fortunately his voice was now kinder and more gentle. "Flattering child you shall know me. See why in shadow I hide. Look at your face in the mirror, I am there inside!" Sure enough, when Christine did as he asked, she could see the familiar face of her Angel appear in her mirror.
Christine, entranced, walked toward the mirror. She was cautious at first, but he was so enthralling that she no longer cared about how frightened she was. This was her Angel, and they were meant to be together.
Raoul was pounding at Christine's door, but she took no notice. "Christine? Who's in there? Whose is that voice? Christine? Christine!" he pounded more, but she didn't hear anything except for her Angel's voice.
"I am your Angel of Music. Come to me, Angel of Music!" he demanded her. Never before had he been so demanding, but Christine didn't mind. She needed her Angel. And he needed her.
As she neared the mirror, she stepped through it. Magically, she looked into the deep eyes of her Angel. He held out his hand to her.
She looked down as his hand, gloved in black leather. She hesitantly put her hand in his. Her pale hand in his mysterious one.
Christine put her hand gently into her Angel's. He had held her hand many times before, but this was completely different.
She looked into his eyes lovingly, but saw no emotion in his.
He led her down a hollow stone hall with candles on either side, brightening the whole hall up.
She finally found her voice. "You're both of them, aren't you? You're the Phantom of the Opera and my Angel of Music", she said, relaxing her tense hand in his gentle one.
"Yes, I am both", was all he said. He knew that she had probably had found out, but it had surprised him when her grip became more confident. He almost expected her to run away.
He led her behind him, as the hall was getting thinner. He kept looking back, as if to make sure she was alright with this. She was perfectly fine.
Christine began to sing. "In sleep he sang to me. In dreams he came. That voice which calls to me. And speaks my name", she sang.
They reached the end of the hallway and were now going down stairs. He held a torch, and all Christine could manage to do was to watch him and sing. "And do I dream again? For now I find- the Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind", she continued to stare at his mysteriousness.
Christine dared to look at her surroundings, but his voice snapped her hand back to look at him once more. "Sing once again with me. Our strange duet. My power over you, grows stronger yet". He helped to mount her onto a horse standing nearby.
She looked back. "And thought you turn from me, to glance behind. The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside your mind", he said, leading the horse and still glancing back at her. Her heart filled with love for this person she had known for so long, but barely knew at all.
He helped her get off the horse, taking her waist in his hands and making Christine's heart beat a little faster. He helped into a gondola and she sat down as he rowed.
"Those who have seen your face. Draw back in fear. I am the mask you wear", she sang.
"It's me they hear", he sang in reply.
They continued singing until they reached the familiar place: his home.
He got off of the boat and took his cape off. "Angel, but do you have a name? A proper name I can call you besides Angel", she asked him as she took his hand to get out as well.
"I had no trouble with being called Angel, but that was when you were a child. Call me... Erik", he told her.
"Erik", Christine repeated. It felt so right on her tongue, and better than Raoul's name. This name seemed to bring them closer together, more intimate.
"Nighttime sharpens. Heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs and wakes imagination. Silently the senses abandon their defenses", he sang in his beautiful voice.
This song almost brought tears to Christine's eyes, for she remembered when he sang this to her when she was a little girl. Now this song was for her, about how much he loved her. It wasn't in the lyrics, but it was in his voice.
He continued singing, telling her about the music of the night. At one part of the song, he took a hold of her from behind, running his hands up and down her stomach and dangerously close to her inner thigh. Christine had never been touched like this, and it surprised her of how good it felt to have her Angel of Music touch her like this.
"Floating, falling. Sweet intoxication. Touch me, trust me. Savor each sensation. Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in..." he sang as he performed this intimate move.
Christine closed her eyes and allowed herself to be touched by this wonderful Angel, Phantom, whoever it was.
He showed her to a room. She smiled at him, and he pulled the curtain back, showing her what lay in store for me inside. Christine looked into the same exact face as her own. But it what was the mannequin was wearing that made her faint.
The exact replica was wearing a wedding dress and wedding veil. Her Angel of Music wanted to marry her. The Phantom of the Opera wanted to marry her. She fell into his arms, confused, scared, and worried.
He picked her up and laid her onto his bed. He still sang to her, stroking her face and curls. He left her so she could rest and went back to composing his music.
A few hours later, Christine woke up. She had dreamed that her Angel had proposed to her... It was almost true. She got up and walked over to where he sat at the piano.
"I remember there was mist. Swirling mist upon a vast, glassy lake. There were candles all around and in the lake there was a boat. And in the boat there was a man", she walked over to her Angel, such a man of mystery.
"Who was that shape in the shadows? Whose is that face in the mask?" Christine walked over to her wonderful Angel and began to caress his face. She remembered now. She remembered how good it had felt to have him touch her, and she wanted more.
Her fingers hooked onto his mask, wanting to see who really was underneath it. He pushed her hand away before she could take it off.
"Christine no. Please, don't. I don't want you to see it", he pleaded her, waling away from her.
"Why, Erik?" she asked him. she hated to see him so scared and hurt like this. It made her regret even trying to take it off.
"Just, no Christine. Not now, at least. Please", he begged her.
"I'm sorry", she said. Christine walked over to her Angel, who instinctively put his hand over his mask. "I promise you that I won't", she whispered to him.
She closed her eyes and kissed him full on the lips. His eyes shot open in surprise, not thinking that she would do anything like this.
He kissed her back with such passion, Christine needed to have more of him.
Christine undid his shirt buttons and pulled it off. He looked at her. "Christine, you don't know... how long... I've wanted you like this", he said taking her in his arms and kissing her again.
She broke away. "Then take me", she whispered. She was certain that she wanted to become one with him. He put his hand into hers and led her to the bed she had just come from.
"Please, Angel. I'm ready", she asked him.