Christine rolled over the next morning to find her Angel gone. Instead, there lay a single rose on the opposite pillow, it's stem tied with a black ribbon. She smiled and lifted the petals to her nose.
Just like old times.
Unlike the past though, she found a small piece of parchment folded neatly and tucked within the ribbon's knot. She carefully pried it free and unfolded it to find a short note in the Opera Ghost's familiar handwriting.
My dearest Christine,
Please forgive my sudden absence but I did not want to wake you. I needed to return to the Opera before my cover of darkness fled for the morn. I kissed you before I left, and you smiled. Know that I love you, and I shall return at sunset.
Yours, Erik
The memories of their shared night together flooded her mind and left her cheeks a fiery red. Erik had been so gentle and caring, his lips never far from hers. After the first time, he laid next to her almost in awe, his fingertips tracing every angle on her face. Christine returned the gesture, her own hand dancing along the jagged edges of his scars.
"What happens now, Angel?"
"What do you mean?"
"Raoul will return soon. What will happen then?"
Erik fell silent at that, his face knitting with thought. After several moments, he could only kiss her cheek and whisper, "I won't decide for you, Christine. But I will return every night as I always have."
She took solace in that knowledge and curled into his arms. Sleep overtook her at a rapid pace, the sound of Erik's heartbeat next to her ear washing away every bit of fear from her body. It was a dreamless sleep, and blissfully uninterrupted. Only the bright sunshine had stirred her awake, and the sight of the empty bed next to her made her heart drop. His note made her smile nonetheless and filled her with hope.
A soft knock came at the door followed by a muted female voice. Christine groaned and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The cool wind coming through the open window sent a small shiver across her skin, and she suddenly realized she was still naked. Her cheeks flushed again as she set the rose and note on her bedside table, and then quickly found her dressing gown at the foot of the bed. The knock repeated itself, but more forcefully.
"One moment," Christine called. The sunlight warmed her skin as she walked through its rich beams. The words of her Angel's note echoed in her mind and brought a small frown to her lips. His reasons for hiding in darkness were no mystery to her, but it still saddened her to think he hadn't felt the warmth of sunshine in an age.
"Madame?" The muffled voice belonged, of course, to Claudette.
Christine sighed and unlocked the door. "Yes? What is it?"
The old woman gave a slight curtsy and a puzzled look when she saw Christine's state of dress. "Forgive me, Madame, but it's nearly afternoon. Is my lady still feeling ill?"
"No. I was awake late...reading."
"Oh. Of course." Claudette's gaze flickered to Christine's robe and then her flushed cheeks. Her eyebrow raised, but she didn't make a comment. "Would you like me to fetch your lunch? Or breakfast perhaps?"
Christine stood tall and shot the maid a sharp look. "Some tea and fresh fruit. Call it what you will. I will take it here, in my room."
Claudette nodded and withdrew down the hall without another word. Ten minutes later, she returned with a tray to find Christine still standing at the door. She took it from the older lady and mumbled a curt word of thanks and closed the door between them. Christine ate in silence, her eyes skimming over Erik's letter several times. A difficult decision was arising in her life, and she wasn't quite sure it was one she could make. Erik would return that evening, that she knew. But would Raoul?