Erik
I hid in the shadows as I watched Christine stand in my box, my black cloak wrapped tightly around me so I blended in with the darkness. It had been a while since I had seen her and she looked as beautiful as ever, dressed in a casual, white lacy gown. Her form seemed to glow just slightly in the pitch black of the theater below, bringing out her features.
She turned back around and stopped when she saw me, though I didn't moved, standing completely still as I leaned against the wall. She stood her ground as well as I started to speak, "I told you to leave, Christine," I said lowly, almost threatening, "Why do you disobey my commands?"
She stared at me for the longest time before answering, almost in a trance, "Why do I need a reason to come see my Angel?" She asked, taking one step toward me.
I didn't move, "Because you're Angel told you to forget him and never return," I replied, "I ask again. Why have you returned? I thought you had your precious Raoul."
She turned her gaze away from me, folding her hands in front of her, "Raoul and I were to be married today," She replied softly, "But I couldn't go through with it." She paused and turned back toward me, looking me in the eyes, "Because I was thinking too much about you."
I returned her gaze with a curious one. Why would she think about me on a day as glorious as this? Her wedding day? "How could you possibly think of me when you were about to be married to the man of your dreams?" I asked, "How can you even think of me after that night?"
Now Christine was silent for a long while, turning away again as if she was thinking of the right answer. Or afraid to tell it... Finally, I was tired of waiting and left her presence, not sure if she knew I did or not. I left silently and went back to my home. I walked to my organ and took my cloak off, draping it over the chair of my desk. I sat at the organ bench and pulled out some old music I had composed years ago, beginning to play. After a bit, I recognized them as arias I had written for Christine when she was just a child.
As I played, this particular piece brought back memories for long ago, some that had almost been forgotten. The night I had sang this to her, she asked me why I wouldn't show myself to her. I replied with a simple answer that a young child could easily believe: "Angels cannot be seen, only heard." That wasn't the real reason though. I didn't want her to be frightened because of my face, and I had come to like her and was afraid of showing my feelings to her. I was brought back from my memories as the song ended. As it did, one question still remained in my mind:
Did I still love Christine? And did she love me in return?