The Phantom Ascending |✔| [Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction]

Lesson One: Erik

Erik

My Christine.

She will sing for me
She will sing with me
She will sing my music

Phantom Triumphant!

I was returning from our incredibly rewarding encounter, feeling as if the walls around me were glowing from the brilliance of my success - a success brought about by the angelic kindness of her decision.

She will sing for me, but will she come to love me? How do I make her love me?

Back inside my underground home, I couldn't sit still. My hands itched to write down the notes that kept dancing in my mind. Without any instruments, writing new music was difficult down here, but I could still create rough versions, and improve and polish them later. Tomorrow, perhaps. Tomorrow, with her by my side.

I smiled in sweet expectation.

* * *

December 23rd

The day dawned cold. It was becoming increasingly difficult for me to spend the days here in the belly of the decaying palace, most of all now when the warmth of Christine's home beckoned. I wandered around the palace like a ghost, seeking warm corners, killing time, checking my attire to ensure it was flawless.

The hours passed and I was finally on my way.

When I arrived there, Christine was already waiting, sitting on the small sofa near the piano and wearing a lovely cream-colored dress with intricate lace details. The sight was breathtaking. I touched my mask to reassure myself that my ugliness was hidden from sight.

She eyed me warily, her gaze lingering on the crumpled stack of papers in my gloved hand.

"Make yourself comfortable," she gestured, and I took off my woolen cape and the gloves, tossing them near the bookshelf. I wasn't used to being treated like a guest. It felt odd.

Christine, too, seemed far from being at ease, but she remained well-mannered. This was Christine who was to be a nobleman's wife - a painful thought - and already she was changing accordingly. Her natural beauty was now accentuated by deliberate elegance. It suited her.

"I tried opening the passage, but found no way to do it," she interrupted my flow of thoughts.

"It only opens from the outside," I replied quickly, thankful for the distraction. "Come, let me show you," I led her toward the small dark chamber behind the bookshelf, and she followed timidly, like a rabbit.

"Christine."

"Yes?"

"I will not steal you from your home."

She nodded, but added:

"Dark corridors... They unsettle me."

Because of me. It was best left unsaid.

I pointed toward the lever to change the subject.

"This was designed as a one-way entrance. The legend says that the Doge, or someone close to him, had kept a mistress in this house. The affair ended badly, which is why the house was cheap despite its excellent location. The Venetians seem to be superstitious when it comes to the matters of the heart. The passage itself must have been forgotten until I discovered it upon moving in."

And then I realized my mistake.

"You bought this house? It is yours?"

"It was, briefly, but it is yours to live in now."