ErikShe was here.
On the other side of the wall, she sang my music of the night.
I leaned against the fake wall and listened, hidden in the darkness of the secret little room. I only needed to press the lever, and the bookshelf in her music room would rotate, and I would stand before her...
Yet what would that achieve? She would probably faint and afterwards escape to France, into the Vicomte's arms, since I would not keep her here by force.
I had waited for years before I first approached her. I could wait for mere weeks now. A bouquet of red roses signed by a secret admirer and delivered to her doorstep on her birthday was as far as I was willing to go.
And so, I just listened, secretly, using all strength of will to remain silent and motionless.
Everything I've known and experienced seemed to fade before the crystal beauty of her voice. How I had missed that voice!I pressed my palms against the wall, breathing heavily and moving my lips soundlessly, the French libretto I wrote and knew by heart colliding with the Italian words she practiced in. The change of language shone a new light upon my work, and it felt as if Christine herself was rewriting it, joining in my act of creation.
Soon, too soon, she was done. I heard muffled voices, her thanking and paying the musician who came to provide her with basic musical accompaniment.
When silence descended, so did I, down the trapdoor in this hidden chamber, down the secret tunnels and channels that connected this house with the depths of the Doge's Palace.
Manelli did well, managing to place Christine in the house of my choice — the house I'd initially rented for myself but then found that it will serve me far better this way.
Far, far better.
I glanced around as I made my way back. The Doge's Palace was an ancient building, now in disarray and full of signs of decay. Parts of it were used by the officials during the day, but this large place, full of hidden passageways, still allowed me to dwell here undiscovered. I lacked the resources to make it truly comfortable, but it made for an adequate temporary home.
I spent the afternoon amidst the flood of memories. She, who once sang for me, she was the flame that ignited my soul. She who betrayed me and then still saved me... She was by my side, once again.
When I closed my eyes, I could still vividly remember her kiss. I touched the ring that hung on the chain around my neck, near my heart.
Why was I doing this to myself? She did not love me... Never would. Still, there was that small treacherous part of me that kept hoping.
Maybe she could. Maybe she still could.
The little demoness in Cornwall healed a portion of my soul when it was at its most ravaged, but Christine was the only one who could truly lift my spirit.
If I approached her on Solstice, and if the faerie magic worked, would she recognize me? Would she finally see the man instead of the monster? And even if she does, will that be enough?
The Vicomte, as I learned through Manelli, delayed his return, but was still expected to come for the premiere in the early December. With Vicomte present, things were bound to get ugly. It all echoed the events of two years ago, when his arrival ruined everything I dreamed of.
I let go of the ring and stood up.
Yes. He stole her from me once, didn't he? Was I not allowed to steal her back then?
And if I fail and fall into the depths of madness once again, then let it truly be my fate, everything else be damned.

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The Phantom Ascending |✔| [Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction]
FanfictionChristine left and the Phantom of the Opera sank into despair. Yet when he discovers something magical in Cornwall, it will set him on the road toward Christine again. And she now resides in Venice, the city of gondolas, carnivals and mists... A ta...