In Your Eyes
Raoul's mother had told him that there was no such thing as magic. He had always considered himself a sensible boy, so he believed her and put away childish things like magic and fairytales.
For years the little boy would not let anything stir the surrealist parts of his imagination and he was as solemn as any adult. That was until this moment, for now he was sure that magic must exist.
He was sitting next to a roaring fire while a haunting melody filled the air around him. Monsieur Daae was playing the violin while telling an elaborate Scandinavian myth.
Raoul turned his eyes to gaze at the curly haired girl next to him, staring transfixed at her father. Christine was as beautiful as any angel. Staring at her sapphire eyes he felt a warm sensation spreading from his heart to his limbs, causing his stomach to flutter. The young boy smiled to himself. "Surely this must be magic."