AN: As promised, here is another update. I am in the middle of final exams right now, so the next one might take a little bit longer, but I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please review and let me know what you think!
I stood up to stand in front of Christine, speaking as politely as possible. "Christine, if you would allow me, there is something I would like to show you."
She looked up from the book that she had obviously only been pretending to read, eyeing me with hesitancy. She tried to shrug nonchalantly, but her entire body was tense. "Sure."
She stood and trailed a few feet behind me as I led her down the long hall and into the music room. I opened the door and stopped partway through the doorway, turning to face her.
"This is the music room," I introduced it, stepping aside so she could step through the door. Awe showed immediately on her face, giving me great satisfaction. "There is a vast collection of pretty much any instrument you could desire, and if there is somehow something missing from my collection I would be happy to get it for you."
She nodded, walking past me to admire the grand piano and cello that sat in the center of the room, and continued walking around in silence, admiring all the instruments. She walked around for nearly five minutes, before coming to an abrupt halt in front of one particular instrument.
Whirling around, she looked at me with complete shock. "You brought my dad's violin here?"
I nodded silently, unsure of what her reaction was going to be. Would she be angry at me for taking it and bringing it here?
She turned away from me back toward the violin, running her hand through her hair. She began mumbling under her breath. "He took dad's violin from my house? I don't know if I should be creeped out or flattered…"
I smiled, but said nothing since she obviously hadn't meant for me to hear. Picking up the violin and turning it over, she began to inspect it, running her fingers all over it.
My curiosity finally got the better of me, and I walked up beside her. "What are you doing?"
She looked up at me quizzically. "Making sure you didn't hurt it, of course."
I raised my eyebrows at her, smiling slightly. She looked away from me to the violin, but a ghost of a smile danced across her face.
After she had deduced that I hadn't done anything to harm her father's violin, Christine walked over to the piano to examine the sheet music I had left on it.
"What is this for?" she asked, holding up the copy of The Sound of Music I had put out for her.
"For us to continue your voice lessons of course." I stated simply, walking over to the piano and sitting down at the bench. "Now, you will start with some basic warm-up scales…"
"No." She cut me off, turning and walking away from the piano and toward the door.
"Excuse me?" I questioned, taken aback. Christine wouldn't sing?!
"I said no." She stated, turning to look at me, her jaw set.
"Christine," I said firmly, getting irritated at her unwillingness to sing. "If you don't sing your voice will…"
"I don't want to sing Erik!" She burst out, storming toward me. "I'm tired from everything last night and I want to go to bed!"
I stood up, unwilling to let her look down on me, and began staring at her coldly. "If you recall, the whole debacle last night was your fault, so pardon me if I'm not particularly sympathetic to you being tired because of it."
"My fault?!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air.
"Well I certainly didn't throw you out your bedroom window and tell you to run into the woods, now did I?" I spat back. Of course it was her fault!
"You're the one who took me here!" She yelled. "How could you not think I would try to escape?!"
"I took you here for your own good!" I exclaimed, my voice beginning to rise. How was it that she was able to get me so angry?!
"My own good, or your own good?!" She spat back at me, poking me in the chest to enunciate her point.
I grabbed her wrist before she had a chance to pull it away, more out of reflex than anything else.
"Let go of my hand." She growled, glaring at me with every bit of anger her sharp green eyes could convey.
I let go immediately, watching with slight confusion as she glared at me, her hands on her hips. Either I was mistaken, which rarely happened, or she was doing her best to intimidate me.
"Very well." I said tightly. "I understand you are tired, and you may have today off from singing. Meet me in this room at 10:00 am tomorrow, ready to rehearse."
"Fine." She said shortly, turning on her heel and stomping out the door, slamming it behind her.
As soon as she was out the door, I turned around and grabbed the sheet music off the piano, throwing it to the floor.
"Why does she have to be so damn difficult?!" I growled, pacing around the room in frustration. "I give her music, her father's violin, the opportunity to make her voice better, and she refuses everything!"
I flipped a stand over, scattering some saxophone music to the floor.
"Why can't she just let herself be happy here?!"
Nearly an hour later, after I had calmed myself down, I picked up all the stands I had thrown down as I passed them, placing the sheet music neatly back on them. Making sure my mask was properly on my face, I strode out of the room and into the kitchen to make some lunch.
I was about to walk through into the room when I heard singing coming through the door.
"I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose, fire away, fire away!"
I peeked through the door, surprised to see Christine singing the ridiculous pop song, dancing elaborately around the kitchen as she made a sandwich. She picked up the butter knife she had in her hand, holding it in front of her like a microphone.
"Shoot me down, but I won't fall! I am titanium! Shoot me down, but I won't fall! I am titanium!" Then she began shaking her hips provocatively, dancing around the kitchen while humming the guitar part, and singing the vocals when they came around.
I held back an amused snicker, enjoying watching her simply enjoy herself when she thought I wasn't watching.
After she reached the end of her "performance" I strode into the room as if I hadn't seen anything.
"What are you doing down here?" I asked casually, trying to make a conversation.
"Making a sandwich… Do you have a problem with that?" She said defensively.
"Of course not." I stated, "I merely assumed you would be in your room."
"Well, I was hungry." She muttered.
"You are welcome to go anywhere in the house, with the exception of my bedroom." I responded, grabbing something to make myself some food.
"Don't worry," She muttered, when her back was turned to me. "Learned that lesson the first time around."
I grimaced, the painful memory of that morning coming to the forefront of my mind.
I watched Christine out of the corner of my eye as she sat down on the couch and began to flick through television channels. Seeing that she seemed to be content, I continued to make my meal, humming to myself as I grabbed things out of the pantry.
"Oh my gosh!" I heard a startled gasp come from the other room, and I quickly ran in to see what was wrong.
"Christine! What…" I exclaimed, stopping dead in my tracks as I saw what was on the screen.
"Oh my gosh." She whispered again, clasping her hand to her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes.
Christine's laughing face lit up the screen, next to a solemn looking reporter, along with Raoul and Meg.
"The search continues for Christine Daae, a nineteen year old girl who was kidnapped from the annual de Chagny masquerade ball on Friday." The reporter spoke in a solemn, monotone voice.
Christine's beautiful face was replaced with the security footage of the night I took her; the look of terror on her face as she struggled against me was an image I would never be able to evict from my memory. Then the footage showed me when I put the gun to her lovely curls, and the look of horror on Christine's face as she realized what her angel of music was doing…
A sob from the couch interrupted my thoughts and I looked to see Christine sobbing, but still not looking away from the screen.
"Christine…" I tried to console her, but she wouldn't even look at me.
"Don't speak to me." She whispered, not harshly, just with terrible sorrow.
"Here with us today, we have Raoul de Chagny, Christine Daae's boyfriend, as well as the young girl's friend, Meg Giry." The reporter interrupted the tape, turning to face Raoul and Meg.
"I understand you have something you would like to share with us Mr. de Chagny?" The reporter prompted gently.
"Yes I do." Raoul nodded slowly, facing the reporter. "My family is offering a large cash reward for any legitimate information about Christine's whereabouts, as well as a reward of unimaginable magnitude if anybody can return her safely to us."
Slowly, he turned away from the camera to face the screen directly. I looked over to see Christine kneeling on the floor in front of the screen, touching her fingers to the side of the image of Raoul's face. Jealousy reared up inside me as I watched her, as well anger at the fop for being able to have this kind of effect on her even when he was nowhere near her.
"Christine, if you are somehow watching this, I want you to know that I love you, and will never stop looking for you as long as I live. Be brave Chris… You are the single most amazing woman I have ever met, and I know you can make it through this."
The camera turned to where Meg was sitting next to Raoul, crying uncontrollably. "I l-love you Chris." She sobbed, frantically dabbing at her eyes.
"Y-you're the best f-friend anyone could ask f-for. Stay s-strong… We'll f-find you!"
The camera slowly panned back to Raoul as one of the crew members passed Meg a tissue.
"And as for the person holding Christine captive." Raoul began in a much stronger voice. "We beg you to return Christine to us unharmed."
"Please!" Meg begged, still crying.
"And know this," Raoul continued, resting a hand consolingly on Meg's shoulder. "If you choose not to do the right thing and return her, we will find you, and you will answer for your crimes to the full extent of the law. I promise you this."
"There it is ladies and gentleman." The camera turned back to the reporter, who had a very sad look on her face. "If anybody has any information about Ms. Daae's whereabouts, the number to call is at the bottom right-hand side of the screen. For more information about how you may be able to help, please call the number on the left. More updates will be made as the information becomes available. We now transfer to Bryan, who is onsite at a huge traffic pile up on Broadway."
I grabbed the remote and clicked the screen off, turning to where Christine was still kneeling on the floor, her arms wrapped around herself. Slowly, she turned and looked up at me, her eyes still wet with unshed tears, and tear tracks still moist on her face.
"You have to take me back." She whispered, pleading with me.
"I'm afraid that would be impossible." I said, my voice sounding as removed as I could make it. I was trying to hide how much seeing her like this felt like a knife in my heart.
"Please!" She cried, scurrying in front of me, and grabbing onto my jacket without even standing up.
"Please," She sobbed, on her knees begging. "Erik… Angel… Please take me back."
"I can't Christine." I spoke coldly, resisting every impulse I had to take her into my arms and hold her until the pain evaporated. As it was, I stepped away, forcing her to release my jacket.
"At least let me call them so they know I'm okay!" She cried, holding her hands out in front of her. "I don't even know where I am… What harm could it do?!"
"No."
"Let me call Meg then." She pleaded one more time, not willing to give up. "Did you see her on that screen Erik? She thinks I'm hurt, or d-dead… D-did you see the way she cried?"
Christine dissolved into tears, bending over and pulling her arms even tighter around herself as if seeing her friend like this caused her physical pain.
"I'm sorry Christine," I said softly, but with no emotion. "But I'm afraid you cannot do any of those things."
A sharp cry escaped her lungs, and she curled into a ball rocking back and forth as she completely fell apart.
Unable to resist any longer, I placed a hand on her shoulder, needing to do something, anything, to make her stop feeling like this.
"D-don't touch me!" She sobbed, trying to sound forceful, but it came out sounding completely broken and utterly defeated. "G-go away… P-please."
Without another word, I turned away from her and silently walked toward my room. As soon as I was out of her line of sight, I quickened my pace, practically fleeing to the shelter of my safe haven. There was no way I could let her see the tears that had silently begun to stream down my cheeks.