Chapter 2- Unforgettable

Raoul patted his hair down, neatening it as he made sure it was tied back properly. Running his hand over his face one last time he pushed the front door of the hotel open and walked down the steps. As he walked his stomach jumped and he paused to compose him. This was the most unusual feeling to him, something uncommon, something that he wasn't used to. In fact, he could not remember a time when he had felt like this before.

The sun was blaring down but the breeze was cool on his skin making it bump up and prickle. He rubbed his arm, wishing he had worn his overcoat, and sat on the wall to collect his thoughts. Setting off early was a habit of his, ever since he was six or seven, he would leave his house early to get the best spot at school or the best place in the team. He was that way inclined, it was easier to be the best at something if he got the best space. He looked over the ocean, breathing in the fresh sea air, letting it filter into his lungs.

There was nothing like the smell of the sea's salt in the air.

A perfectionist, his brother called him, but he was a fine one to talk. Raoul freely admitted that he liked this his own way but Philippe was the real perfectionist of the family. Always needed things to be right, to look exactly the way he expected it to. There was no bitterness in his thoughts, Raoul loved his brother dearly and even now, at sixteen, he was prepared to show his affection for him. People often whispered that Raoul was probably jealous of his slightly more intelligent, slightly more dashing and slightly older, brother but the truth was that Raoul was glad he was not the eldest. The last thing Raoul wanted was to inherit his father's estate and all of the responsibilities that went with it. He was enjoying being young, meeting people... why would he want to attend all of the functions God could send to try them?

There was one thing that Raoul and Philippe really differed on, often clashed about, and that was their father. Philippe worshiped the ground the pompous old git walked on but Raoul could barely stand to be in the same room as him. Both Raoul and his young sister, Lauren, agreed that their father was a violent bully.

Though Raoul had never personally felt the wrath of his father's belt he knew that his mother certainly had. His father was rude to the staff and almost impossible with Lauren. Raoul worried that, if it wasn't for their mother's soft and kind ways, they would all turn out thinking that this was the way to live.

His mother was another story entirely, they all agreed that she was a sweet woman but Raoul wondered how she held herself together through what her husband dealt to her. Admiration and love was what he felt for his mother but that was an air of sorrow for her, an empathy. He wished that he could help her, he wished that he could make his father leave her alone but there was no way. He rarely hit her, that would leave bruises, but he was aggressive and belittled her at almost every chance he got.

Raoul couldn't wait to get out of that house.

He started to walk again, making his way slowly along the winding street, until he was at the bottom of the hill leading up to Christine's hotel.
There were only three small hotels in this village, the one he was staying in, this one and a very small hotel a little further along. He knew of a few inns where poorer, less fortunate people stayed but these were the only hotels. They weren't particularly large, his family stayed in the biggest and most grand. The Prince did not live in this town and it wasn't the most glamorous of villages but they liked to holiday there. Raoul liked it here too, he thought as he walked up the hill. It's a beautiful little town, basically untouched.

And so quiet. Gloriously, wonderfully quiet.

According to Philippe, normal boys of Raoul's age should not be looking for peacefulness but instead should be adventurous and searching for chaos wherever he could. Of course, Raoul was hardly a normal boy.

He glanced up and was met with a soft smile, under soft eyes. He smiled back, holding his hand out to help Christine down the steps.

Looking at her, he was unsure what he found so attractive. She was a little ... gawky, not ugly, not by any stretch, but still, she was unconventional. Perhaps that's what it is, he thought, she is miraculously unique.

'Good afternoon,' he said, as they began to walk side by side.

She smiled again. 'Good afternoon,'

'Where would you like to have lunch?' he asked, holding his arm out so that she could hook her hand around it.

'The cafe nearest to the sea,' she said. 'I like it there, it reminds me of my mother,'

Raoul nodded and walked without pursuing stories of Christine's mother. If she wanted to tell him about it no doubt she would, he thought, and placed his hand on hers, resting on his arm.

Taking sly glances at her as he walked, he noticed just how clean and fresh she looked. He also noticed that she had wrapped herself up decidedly warmer than he had with a grey coat, red scarf and long dress keeping the heat in. Briefly, he wondered about going back for a better coat for himself but changed his mind, the sun was warm enough it was only the breeze that was chilly.

Still, he found himself letting his body get closer to Christine's as they walked. Was it because he was cold or that he simply wanted to be close to her?

Lunch had been wonderful and Raoul had found Christine's conversation warm and knowledgeable. He was drawn to her, he could no longer deny it, and he wondered if she had sensed it or if. indeed, she felt the same way.

They were sitting on the beach now watching the sun set at almost the same spot they met yesterday. They were walking right at the water edge, letting the waves lick at their feet. Christine had playfully removed her shoes and he was carrying them. She had none the pretension that other women he met had, not of the airs and graces. Christine Daae was no snob and to Raoul that on it's own was attractive.

He could not imagine Charlotte, his brother's fiancee, simply ripping her shoes off and paddling in the cool sea. He was aware that the breeze had blown some strands of his hair out of the band he used but for the first time in his life he did not care.

'How long are you here for?' he asked, looking at her as they walked.

'Another few weeks,' she said and winced.

'What's wrong?' he asked, as she bent down and began to rub her toes.

'I trod on a pebble,' she said and sat down.

'Here,' he said, kneeling in front of her and taking her foot in his hands. He rubbed gently and she tensed. 'Sorry,' he said, feeling an unfamiliar blush on his cheeks as he let go of her foot.

'It's fine...' she said. He turned and sat next to her. 'How long are you here for?'

'Two weeks,' he said. 'I like it here,'

'Me too,' she said but her voice was almost sad.

'What's wrong?' he asked.

She shrugged and he saw her blink a tear away from her eye.

'Would you like to go back to your hotel?' he asked, worried that he had offended her.

She shook her head. 'Not yet,' she said, pushing herself back to her feet and started to continue along the beach. Raoul leapt up and followed.

'Are you sure?' he asked, as he finally made it to her side. He panted dramatically. 'You walk very fast,'

She laughed. 'Sorry,' she said and hooked her arm back through his. 'Yes, I'm sure... we're heading back that way anyway,'

He nodded.

'I get tired of travelling,' she said quietly.

'I suppose you travel a lot,' he said.

'Seems like all the time,' she wrapped her free arm over her waist.

'We travel a lot too,' he said, as if that would make her feel any better. Idiot, he thought. 'Err... My family and I,'

She smiled sadly. 'I would imagine you do,'

'You look so upset, is it something I've said... or... or done?' his question came out too frantically and he wished he could take it back. She stopped walking and turned to face him.

'It isn't you, Raoul,' she said, softly. 'I get tired... I miss my mother... I want to have a home,'

Raoul was suddenly at a loss for words, what did he say to that, how was he to answer her. He wasn't sure that there were adequate words to comfort her so he simply reached out and pulled her carefully into his arms. She did not resist, she held him back and they stood there for what could easily have been an eternity. Raoul almost wished that it was.

'I wish I could help,' he said softly, speaking into her hair. She pulled away, looking a little uncomfortable, and smiled.

'You are helping,' she said. 'It's nice to have a... err... a friend,'

He nodded. A friend. Oh how he longed now to be more, he wanted to feel her in his arms again, to smell her hair and feel her body against him. As much as he tried to snap himself out of his trance, it was no use, there was simply something about her, something so unique it make him weak at his knees.

'Well,' he said and began to walk with her again. 'That is what I am... your friend,'

She greeted the statement with a smile.

'Best friend,' he said, grinning. 'Like two cowboys... looking out for each other... only you're much prettier, and I'd lay my life on the line for you...'

Playfully he leapt onto a rock, holding the tree next to it, pointing his fingers like a pistol. He reached down and pulled her up with him, hiding her behind him.

She giggled, hand over her mouth as she did but as she did a gust of wind blew them both, and he caught her to stop her from falling. Unfortunately, her beautiful scarf was not so lucky as the wind took it away, to the ocean.

Christine leapt from the rock, her face horrified as she chased her scarf towards the water. The wind shamefully plonked it into the water leaving a red dot floating in a picture of blue. Christine was standing at the edge of the water with tears flowing down her cheeks when he reached her.

'It was my mothers,' she gasped, as the scarf floated further away.

Raoul grinned. 'I'll rescue it!' he took his jacket off and flexed his arms for Christine. 'I'll save your scarf, fair lady...'

He ran back to her quickly, suddenly unable to resist her, and kissed her cheek softly. 'Don't cry,'

And with that he plunged himself into the cold waves, swimming towards the red dot. When he reached it he held it up in triumph, waving it at her. He couldn't see her face properly but he was sure she was smiling and so, mission almost completed, he swam back to shore.

She was smiling.

'Thank you,' she said and began to giggle. 'You look a mess,'

He glanced down at the clothes, sopping and stuck to him. 'Yes, I am,' he grinned, handing her the scarf. 'A few hours in front of the fire and that should be dry,'

She flung her arms around him and kissed his cheek, apparently unconcerned by how wet and cold he was. When she let him go she gave him his jacket back and smiled.

'We better get back,' she said. 'You need to change and my father will be worried,'

He nodded, suddenly feeling a wave of sadness drench him as if he did not feel wet enough.

'What's wrong?' she asked.

He thought for a moment, unsure what he should say. 'I don't want it to be over,' he said, opting for the truth.

'What?' she asked.

'This,' he said. 'Us... I've just... I've had the best day of my life, I don't think I have ever enjoyed myself so much...'

She smiled.

'I don't think that I have... err...' he paused. 'Ever enjoyed anyone else 's company so much either,'