Love Revived

Chapter II

"Brava, Brava, Bravissima," Erik's chilled voice crept over my skin, and I found that even after years of it haunting me, I loved it nonetheless. Then again, he couldn't know that I'd known that voice for years... The happening of all the events that evening had encouraged the fact that I was not just dreaming when I saw the future. Something supernatural had truly happened, and it paled in comparison to what Erik thought he was capable of. 

"Christine! Christine," Meg called, making me cringe.

Hello, Meg, did you know if I let this carry out the exact way I did before you would kill me? Definitely not how I was going to start the conversation, quite obviously, but I was still a little sore from the whole ordeal. I sent her out of my dressing room, her mother aiding in her disappearance from it, and then I took the note the Madame had handed me. I knew it's contents, of course I knew, but I was purely frightened by them. The note I had most recently received from Raoul was heartbreaking, no matter if I'd had my angel comforting me or not. 

I could still tell you what that first note said all those years ago.

But now it was time to change things. I could let this charade of my previous story go on no longer. I had done well portraying it for a few hours, but Raoul was where the change began, because once he had even the smallest taste of hope, it was all his. I couldn't let his possessiveness take my future away from me this time. 

Setting the unopened parcel on my vanity, I looked at the picture of Raoul, father, and I, and I could have cringed when the door creaked open to reveal his charming face. It never really changed much over the years, just falling to the age of alcohol and stress post-marriage.

"Christine Daaé, where is your red scarf?"

"Monsieur?" I beckoned, to bait him in. 

"Surely you can't have lost it. I was just fourteen and soaked to the skin..."

He awaited my repose, the chorus to his scarf story, one I knew was hidden in the drawer folded neatly out of his grasp. I loved that scarf, and I was very thankful for his generous gesture, but I didn't love him. He'd need to know that now, because on the stage of my lover after ten years of marriage was not the time for the revelation. 

"I'm sorry, I must have the wrong Mademoiselle," he muttered, his face falling.

"Raoul, it is me. I just— your presence worries me."

He looked at me cross-eyed and knelt before me.

"Christine, you mean that not! I just found you again, almost ten years we have been apart. My childhood sweetheart!" He begged.

It wasn't befitting for him, even as he aged past thirty, and begged for me to leave Erik. Raoul was not as attractive as I once thought him, but these were things one didn't notice when you were sixteen and head-over-heels for fond memories.

"I was seven, you were an immense fourteen, how could we be so?"

"You were rather mature for such a young age, I thought you ten. Boys of fourteen act of ten," Raoul added as he furrowed his eyebrows.

I pulled my hands from his, coldly turning to the vanity.

"Raoul, I pray you leave."

"But, Christine, Little Lotte-"

"I am no longer Little Lotte. I am no longer a young child, Raoul, besides, I may have another whom captures my heart," I said, hinting to Erik and his presence. It'd been there the whole time I spoke to the Vicomte, if only I had known as a child.

I was that child, but no one knew that I had the mind of the woman I was to be years from now. It was all quite confusing if I dwelled on it too long. 

"I am very sorry I mistook you, forgive me Christine. How is your father?"

The question stung, and I could feel Erik grow antsy with the man sitting in front of me, his hopes shattered by a thousand little knives, all driven into his heart by me. I felt awful, just a little bit, but at the same time, there were things I didn't regret when I could be happier than I ever was.

"Dead, Raoul, just after you left me."

He swalllowed, nodding solemnly.

"I offer my condolences."

"Thank you, now if you will, I must change, tell the others not to bother me."

He nodded, taking his leave, allowing a morose feeling to hang in the air.

"Wandering child, so lost, so helpless, yearning for my guidance. Angel of music, weep no longer, sing for me sweet, angel."

His song had changed, morphed from the vile verses he had put out the first time.

"Angel, my soul, was weak, forgive me, enter at last master." I had no need for further words as his entrancing voice enthralled me to him in my mirror. I had purposely avoided looking there so that he would fail in noticing the change I had undergone. Hopefully I still seemed innocent, hopefully he wouldn't scorn me for changing so much in a single night's sleep.

"I am your angel of music, come to me angel of music." I had no need to listen for Raoul atempting to retrieve me, I knew he wouldn't be trying.

It wasn't long before I was thrown into the song of so long ago. It, along with the others, chanted themselves in my mind on repeat when I was alone or thinking of Erik. So, almost always did I listen to the songs we shared. They were so few, and I cherished the little we shared. 

When we reached the lair, I realized that I hadn't a clue as to how I would handle this situation. I knew for certain I would not remove his mask. But now I got to see if he would have returned me, or if he would have kept me. I was dying to know what his intentions were, and my power felt immense compared to anything Erik thought he held. 

He looked at me with such intensity, his hand held out to me as I was stationed in the boat. Of course, I grabbed it sturdily, and lifted myself with his aid.

Glancing to the left corner of the room, I faintly remembered the exact replica of my body in a wedding dress. Cringing, that was something I had chosen to forget. I would wear that wedding dress, though, properly this time. Just, when that time was appropriate, not when I was forced.

"I have brought you, to the seat of sweet music's throne, to this kingdom where all must pay homage to music... music."

As I continued to listen, my mind wondered why he had repeated the word music. I was a little too preoccupied last time to look at intricate things such as words and knickknacks. Yes, I was peering into Erik's knickknack collection, which was quite extensive, but consisted of at least ninety percent candles.

When he gathered me in his arms and pressed my back to his, my knowing and experienced body felt the heat in both of us from not music, but arousal. Arousal that last time I had denied with every fiber of my being.

"You alone can make my song take flight-"

"Help me make the music of the night..." I finished gracefully for him.

I'm not sure what he implied with that song, but I knew when I had spoke those words it was more than just music I was creating. I was creating our bond, sealing forever more, just like he'd sung eleven years from now.

"Christine, you know not of what you sing, I am no angel here before you, Erik is a man."

Furrowing my eyebrows, I became concerned for the man holding me in his arms.

"Erik?"I asked naïvely, remembering this was "the first time I had ever seen him."

"My name, Christine, Erik's name." It was phrased in such an odd way, how had I never heard him speak like that?

"You refer to yourself as such so often?"

"One must, a phantom must," he answered ashamed of what he was saying, and his shame hurt me.

I passed out just then, realizing how much damage had truly been done when I left him, and he me.