AN: This is a good one :D Let me know how I did in a review if you don't mind! Thanks for all the feedback.
The next two days were performances and the day after, Sunday, was given to them to rest. Most of the cast went to visit family or spend the day in Paris. Christine, however, spent them with Erik, telling Meg she would be spending the day with Raoul and telling Raoul she would be with Meg and Jammes. She only hoped that they would not see each other in the city.
"We have accomplished much in the past two weeks. I will not hold you long today, so that you might be able to enjoy some of your time off," Erik said as he led her down the familiar dark tunnels to his home. "I won't hold you captive the whole day."
"I do not mind being here with you…I'd rather be rather be here than anywhere else today," she told him honestly.
The uncovered side of his face was ridden with surprise. His eyebrow climbed higher towards his dark hairline and he started after hearing her words. He regained his façade and muttered, "You are too kind."
"No," she insisted. "I do mean it. I have no wish to be anywhere else."
He spared her a glance. "Do not blandish me Christine. You need not resort to flattery to persuade me to let you leave. I have already learned that you do not like being with me, and I will try not to keep you too long."
She knew he was referring to what had passed between them those four years ago. She had been afraid of him—or not of him, but his power over her. It had left her feeling like she was a mere puppet. But now he was not in love with her and abusing his power, and she was no longer afraid. And then there were her own feelings; she had been confused, lost, and almost fancied herself in love with him. But she was engaged to Raul now. Free from all the fear and confusion, now she could enjoy his music and company.
Of course, she could not explain that to him, and he was stubborn and determined that she thought him insufferable, so she said no more. She only hoped that one day he would see that she regarded him as a friend, lost her fear of him, and that he would see her as the same. But judging by that dark look on his face, she knew that now he only tolerated her for her voice. For now, that would have to do.
"Today we are working on the duet between the two love interests," he announced, rifling through the music atop his piano for the score. "I will sing with you to assure that the harmonies are perfect."
She bit back a smile. She had only sung with Erik a few times but she treasured the memory very much. His voice was so faultless, so beautiful, and she considered it a great opportunity to listen to him, let alone sing with him. And when he sang with her, it enhanced her voice to sound much better.
She tried to contain her excitement and not let it show on her countenance as she nodded confidently.
He sat down at the organ, fingers poised above the keys. She always wondered how he managed to draw out so much beauty of such an ugly instrument. He looked at her attentively. "Are you ready?" She nodded. "Measure three then. You come in at twenty, am I correct?" Another nod. "I'll begin."
And he did. She wanted to close her eyes and relax in the bliss of his voice. The notes cascaded, the phrases were elongated, and the dynamics ebbed and flowed like the water of the ocean. He became lost in the music, and it seemed that he forgot she was there until she joined him in measure twenty. When their voices united he started, but recovered quickly and the music surged seamlessly. It was rather amazing, the way that their voices combined and sounded as one.
All too soon, the song was over. The last chord died from the organ and Erik slowly lifted his fingers from the keys. "That was good," he said weakly, standing up. "Allow me to make some adjustments." He took the score gently from her hands and immediately began to mark upon it with black ink. He did the same to his score on the organ.
"The organ is too overbearing. I will have to work on that part some other time. But for now we will sing a cappella." He presented her with the score again. He did not sit at the organ bench this time but stood next to her. "From three."
His voice sounded even more heavenly without the organ overwhelming the sound. Her head was spinning, her heart beating quickly, and could hardly focus on counting the measures that went by as she rested. She tried to collect herself as best as she could before measure twenty, knowing that if she did not Erik would not be pleased in the slightest.
Perhaps it was in that exact moment when their voices combined that she realized that she did not want to give this up, not ever. She did not want to retire. She did not want to be strong and move on from what she loved to do. This is what made her feel free, complete, and happy. And even more so, she did not want this to be one of the last times that she would ever hear the Angel of Music sing.
She looked at him to guide her through the ritard at the end, not knowing how slow he wanted it to be. He lifted his eyes from the music and looked back at her from behind his mask. The last notes fell from their lips and reverberated off of the stone walls. The sound faded away but he held her gaze.
What happened next was inexplicable to Christine.
She did not know how they had gotten so close. His face was barely a hands breadth from her own and she could feel his cool breath wash over her face. His gold eyes looked down at her with a plethora of emotions swimming in their depths—fear, confusion, and something else she could not quite name. The yellow lamplight created deep shadows under his cheekbones and temples; the left side of his face looked handsome in the soft glow. A strand of his dark hair had fallen from its hold off his forehead and now rested in stark contrast to his dark mask on his brow.
This was where things went terribly wrong.
Without knowing why, Christine reached up slowly to touch the porcelain mask. She ran one finger down the colorless material before delicately taking it off and setting it on the organ.
Erik remained shocked for a second, and many things happened at once.
He cried out in anguish and his hand sprang to cover his face. He turned abruptly away from her, but Christine spun him back around to face her. His expression was furious, his eyes flashing, and his lips twisted into a scowl. She could hardly remember him being so enraged before.
She looked at him for a moment, still holding onto his shoulders, and did something that she never knew the reason for, even years later.
She closed her eyes and crushed her lips to his.