I do not own the song lyrics or the characters.

Erik

Entry 12

Ever since I revealed myself to Christine my view of heaven is constantly changing.

I first thought heaven to be that moment when she first took my hand without hesitation the night in her dressing room. I then thought it was when I held her to me as I sang at my home and she caressed my face with her soft fingers. Then I was positive it was when she threw herself into my arms that night when I followed her to the roof top and found her dancing beneath the stars, the rose that I had given her gripped tightly to her. Or maybe it was when she accepted me so readily when I told her my story.

The night of the Masquerade I would have said it was when I danced with her the whole night before the entire company with her gaze locked to mind, her happiness and contentment mirroring my own joy.

But now, now I believe that heaven was when I was standing below the grates of the orchestra pit with Christine in my arms as we danced to the music of my opera playing above our heads.

At the masquerade Christine and myself danced through the night and I felt as though I was the most fortunate man on earth. I was dancing with the woman I love and she had eyes for no one but me. I am not being prideful when I say this for her happy, smiling eyes did not stray from me for long. I did at one time spot the Vicomte who stood in one of the corners, as he angrily tipped a glass of amber liquid into his mouth. I watched him wince as the fiery liquid slid down his throat and his furious gaze never wavered from Christine until it suddenly darted to me. I felt the anger rise in me at the unspoken threat that he gave and I pulled her closer into my body, spinning her about the floor. I saw the boy's scowl remain firmly in place though his face turned as white as my mask and I knew that he must have seen the furnace burning in my gaze.

I was so deep in thought that I did not feel Christine's gentle touch on my skull mask until she spoke to me.

"Love, are you all right?" her soft questioning voice broke through my thoughts as I continued to manoeuvre us around the floor and other dancers.

I felt that familiar quickening of my heart at her address and held her even closer, despite knowing the impropriety of my actions, and placed a quick kiss on her forehead, putting the Vicomte out of my mind I smiled and told her all was well.

After Christine and I had danced for long enough – according to the unwavering judgement of Madame Giry – the ballet mistress had sent Christine back to the dormitories and ordered me to follow her to her rooms. In order not to cause a scene I agreed planting a quick kiss on Christine's lips before I was dragged of by the offended lady.

I soon found myself standing before a seething Madame Giry and I resisted the urge to cower like a small boy in the face of her fury. I had done nothing wrong so I stood silent and straight waiting for her to begin. And am I not a grown man.

"How long have you been engaged to Christine, Erik?" her voice was sharp and strained, telling me that she was trying her best not to raise her voice but she was loosing the battle.

So that was what she was wanting me to be here for.

I took in a deep breath knowing that she would not be happy with my reply but thinking it better for her to hear from me than from Christine - who I had no doubt would begin to feel guilty about keeping the secret for so long from her foster mother.

"Nearly four months, Madame." I told her matter of factly.

And it was then that the dame broke and all pretences of holding back her temper fled.

"Four months. Did you not think that I was entitled to know of this change in events Erik. I am her guardian. I appreciate that you may not have wanted it being public knowledge but I had a right to know. She has not even known you long enough to form any opinion on you as to if she wants to marry you or not. I know that she did not like it when you staid away from her and I know that I wanted you to make thing better but I did not want you proposing marriage."

At this point I could no longer stay quiet. She was standing before me telling me that Christine did not know her own mind, when I knew different. I see the love shining from her eyes when our eyes meet and the way the tension flows from her body when she wraps her arms around me and I would not have the woman before me throwing any doubt upon our feelings. Not after I had just became a solid aspect of her life.

"Madame, Christine has known me since she first came here. It has always been me. I do not act any differently now than I did when I was her Angel." I tried to keep in control of my voice not wanting to make things any more strained than they were, though I could not stop the slight rise in volume as I finished speaking.

"She is a child, she should be allowed to meet other men before marrying you." she shouted pointing a shaking finger at me her face a mask of fury.

"She accepted me the very night she refused someone else." I snarled, fed up with the woman's verbal attack and also wanting her to be aware of that boy's 'proposal'.

Looking back now I see that she was acting out of motherly concern for Christine, who she looks on as a daughter. But at the time, with the anger growing within me I was not think of her motives - no matter how pure they were.

"Who?" she asked suddenly all the bluster gone from her outburst, her face registering shock and paling slightly.

"The Vicomte." I replied shortly not wanting to waste any more time on him than I had to, but feeling the need to tell her just what I had heard.

"I had came looking for her before one of her lessons and I was standing behind the wall of the dormitories. I overheard him. He made the whole thing sound like a business arrangement. Wanting nothing but a trophy wife. A pretty face to put on display before all of Paris." I spat the words, still feeling the anger and disgust that I had felt that night as he had offered marriage in the most insulting way imaginable to my Christine.

The woman before me quickly regained her composure, pulling herself together with almost unnerving speed though I could tell form her eyes that she was reconsidering her opinion.

"Still..."

Or not.

And so we continued arguing this way for sometime but I would not be discouraged. I did not and do not doubt Christine's feelings for me. Maybe at sometime I did. But no longer - nothing will ever make me question what I feel for her, or she for me.

Madame Giry continued to throw her personal comments and opinions at me. If my feelings for Christine where not as strong as they are I would have easily gone along with her ideas and allowed the doubt to eat away at me – but no. So I stood and allowed her to continue until she brought up the one thing she should have known to leave well enough alone.

"And what of your face Erik?" she spat at me, taking up pacing her small room while I continued to stand still. I tensed at her words.

How dare she. She had no right.

She must have seen the stricken, stiff look on my face for she stopped pacing and stood in front of me, her eyes alight with the new found avenue of thought.

"Does she know?" she asked slowly and I remained silent, staring at a point on the wall behind her. I think it was a picture of her husband.

"She has not seen you has she?" her voice was quiet now and I could feel her eyes burning through my mask to see the deformity underneath.

"If this is all you wish to discuss with me Madame I think that we are done here." I told her, my throat tight as I tried not to raise my voice.

"Your face Erik. Has Christine seen it?" she pursued her line of questioning, grabbing hold of my arm as I turned to leave. I tried to shake her of but to no avail.

I stood silent and thought about my reply.

Christine has never seen my face or shown any interest in seeing it. I remembered how she had reacted to my silence when she asked about my living under the Opera. She had wrapped her arms around me and apologised for her curiosity accepting my silence. She had done the same in respects to my mask also.

She will caress my face with her fingers and even run them over the fine leather of my mask – up to my hairline and down by my ear to my chin and then up by lips, nose and eyes, but she has never once made a move to take it from my face and I love the feel of the leather as the slight pressure of her fingers presses it to my face. Almost as though the leather is part of my face. She accepts the mask as a part of me. Never avoiding it or turning away.

These thoughts spun through my mind and I found myself looking at an astonished Madame Giry as I felt a smile of understanding, wonder and joy come to my lips.

I remembered what her reaction had been to my costume. I had noticed her sharp intake of breath and blush. She thought me handsome.

I took in a deep calming breath as all the anger that had caused me to turn and leave flowed out of me. At a time like that Christine would have just had to have wrapped her arms around me and I would have been calm in a instant, but she was not there, so I did the next best thing.

"No Madame. Christine has not seen my face." I told her calmly and firmly. I was going to put a stop to her rambling and doubts.

"And neither has she shown an interest in seeing it." the confidence in what I was saying made my voice firmer as I looked her in the eyes.

"Christine loves me and I love her. That is all you need to know." I finished and allowed my words to sink in. She was still staring at me as though I had sprouted another head.

"So if that is all Madame..."

I once again turned to leave wanting out of the room as quickly as possible. To find Christine and hold her in my arms again, though I had been dancing with her all night, I now needed to feel her arms around me.

I reached out for the door handle before being stopped once again.

"Erik wait."

I turned back to face her and sighed heavily, having had enough of the woman's interrogations for one night.

"You will look after her?" she asked me quietly her voice no longer sharp with questions and accusations.

I nodded my head seriously.

"Until the day I die."

"You will never raise a hand to her or make her regret hiving her heart to you?"

"Never."

She shook her head slowly and sadly and I did not know what to make of her sudden change in attitude.

"It would appear that I can do little to change your mind and I know how stubborn Christine is..." she trailed of as she turned from me and walked to her desk.

"I gave the managers your Opera Erik" her voice was so low I had to take a step forward to hear her.

My Opera.

Don Juan Triumphant.

I had worked on it for years, working tirelessly during the time when I staid away from Christine and had finally finished it a few week before, leaving it to Madame Giry to give to the managers.

Madame Giry lifted a booklet from her table and held it out to me.

It was a programme. A programme for my opera.

I looked at her in shock.

"Congratulations Erik."

What happened next is all a blur. I raced from the room after thanking her like an excited child. I ran through the empty corridors until I came to the dormitories. All was silent and in darkness so I made my way to the chapel, hoping against hope that Christine would be there.

I walked down the stairs, taking off the tight confining jacket that I wore just before I entered the room.

I could not hide the smile on my face as I placed the jacket on the window seat and wrapped my arms around a waiting Christine. I did not know how to begin so I remained silent until Christine broke the silence, asking me of Madame Giry.

In my rush to tell her my news I had forgotten all about the earlier argument that myself and the ballet mistress had had. So I condensed it somewhat - telling her that she had been annoyed by the secrecy.

I knew that she would feel guilty and embarrassed and I was not wrong. I hugged her to me and whispered reassurance in her ear before taking her to the window seat and telling her of my opera and the performance.

I could see the pride in her eyes when I told her that it had been accepted to be performed and she soon flung her arms around me, holding me tightly and telling me of how proud she was.

I escorted her back to the dormitories holding her close and kissing her, putting everything I feel for her into that one kiss.

The next day I soon discovered they were beginning rehearsals for Don Juan, so when Christine came for her lesson I decided to take her to the same spot where I had listened to her as she sung for the first time.

I was so happy as I took her hand in mine and led her down one of the passages that she has never been in before. I laughed as I kept catching her when her foot caught on some obstacle or other.

We soon came into the round shaped cavity, the iron grates above our heads shedding some light but not a lot.

I saw her look up at the ceiling and explained to her where we where and why.

I lit some candles quickly and returned to Christine who was standing in the middle of the 'room'. I wrapped my arms around her from behind and rested my head on top of hers as she relaxed against my chest.

I could hear the orchestra tuning their various instruments and felt the excitement race through my blood stream when they stopped.

And then my music began.

The music that I had heard played my the entire orchestra only in my mind was now being played in reality and soon all Paris would hear it.

I began to sway to the music, taking Christine with me as I took one of her hands and spun her around to face me. My music was seductive and dark I was aware, but also full of my feelings for the woman in my arms, the woman who I had never dreamed would accept me. I felt her wobble slightly as her skirts tangled around her legs and her small hands shot up to my chest as she tried to keep her balance. I took one of her hands in mine and placed my other arm around her small waist, holding her far closer than propriety had allowed last night as I swayed and dipped her to the music.

I felt her breath hitch and her heart flutter against my own chest, and I revelled in the effect that I had in her and glad that it was the same as she had on me.

I leaned my head down and kissed the rapidly beating pulse at her neck (I knew that I should feel ashamed but I could nor bring myself to release her) and I hummed low in her ear before singing the words to the music – my music – playing above us.

"the games we've played till now are at an end..."

I remembered when I re-wrote those lines. The very same night that she had lain asleep in my home after I had revealed myself to her. No longer her Angel but a man.

"What raging fire shall flood the soul?"

My feelings when I had held her to me that first time when I showed her my home and she did not run from me.

"What warm, unspoken secrets will we learn..."

When my heart was singing as I laid her down to sleep.

Every word, every note, every chord where my feelings and love for her.

I continued to dance with her slowly until I stopped singing. I spun Christine out and then back into my arms holding her close. She was breathing rapidly, her chest rising and falling against my own.

I paid no heed to the music that continued to play above us, all my focus on Christine.

Her breathing came rapidly between her lips and a slight blush covered her cheeks.

She was beautiful.

I leaned in and captured her lips with mine, holding her even closer as her hands slid from my chest to my neck, one of her small hands tangling in my hair as the other one wrapped around my neck holding me to her. I myself could not remain still and against my will one of my hands went from her waist to her own hair. I felt her shiver against me as I traced her spine with my hand.

This was heaven.

She was so small in my arms, her body tiny compared to my own

And yet how would I ever survive if she left me.

I drew away from her slowly, not wanting to but recognising the need for air.

I smiled softly at her as she caught her breath, the happiness that filled me shone back at me through her eyes.

I could hear the higher strains of the music playing above us.

"And that, sweetheart is where you come in." I whispered to her. For she would sing Aminta.

Hey everyone. I have started and deleted this chapter a stupid amount of times but i think i have cracked it. I had my final exam today (*victory dance*) and i celebrated by writing this when i got home. I was going to have the discussion between M Giry and Erik a little lighter but i thought i would just highlight her motherly responsibilities towards Christine while also allowing Erik to draw some more concrete conclusions (hope you weren't to disappointed about that bit).

Feedback would be great.

Hope you enjoyed.

:-)