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

A Moonlit Rendezvous

Erik

Soft footsteps echoed, becoming louder, until they stopped in front of the door. The key clicked in the lock, and then the light from the hallway spilt into the the darkness of the hotel suite I waited in.

Christine's hotel suite.

I merged with the darkest corner of the room, behind the thick curtain, and waited for her to lock the door, lit up an oil lamp, and leave to the bedroom.

A part of me was angry and hurt, and wished to scare her, but another part of me was merely sad and defeated. I knew now that Christine has cheerfully moved on from our time in Venice. She had burned my music, cutting all ties with our time together, and she even found a replacement for her Vicomte.

Perhaps Christine changed over the years, perhaps she was no longer as innocent and artless as in Paris. Still, I hoped she was incapable of deliberate cruelty. I had to talk to her.

With Daroga's assistance, I'd managed to sneak into the concert hall after the concert had begun, and equally sneak out before it ended. Christine's voice still had a magic hold on me, and hearing her made my heart swell with joy, only to be crushed a little later when I saw her walk off happily with a silly young pup. My humiliation was only amplified by the fact that it was witnessed by Daroga, in whose carriage I waited in vain.

"I must go," I had said to him, and he dared to grab my arm.

"Don't do anything stupid," Daroga said sharply. "You will see her when she comes to Rosier."

"I will see her sooner," I snarled, shook him off, and left.

And so I ended up here, hiding like a ghost once again. I stepped out of my hiding place and called out softly, luring her.

"Christine, Christine..."

She looked startled as she stumbled back into the room, dressed in a pale green robe, her hair freely falling over it in a mass of magnificent curls. I stared at her, speechless, trying to look threatening, but doubtlessly looking like a lovestruck fool instead. I scowled as hard as I could.

"Erik! Oh, you're here! You're really here!" she rushed to me, then stopped two steps away when she saw my expression. "Erik?"

"Forgive me for ruining your idyllic stay in this romantic resort," I mocked, "but you owe me an explanation."

She frowned, obviously hurt by the hostility in my voice. "How do I owe you an explanation? Oh, you found out about your music. I'm sorry, but this was something I needed to do. You were gone and I... But why did you leave? There was no need for you to leave," she said softly.

My pride prevented me from admitting that in truth, I never chose to leave. So I just shrugged, furious from her casual confession about my music sheets.

"Perhaps I was testing your loyalty, my dear student. And you failed me greatly."

"Truly? Erik, why? Why would you toy with me like that?"

I didn't, I wanted to say. You are too precious to be anyone's toy. And yet, remembering how she glowed in the company of the blond young pup stirred my darker instincts.

"Ah, Christine, but you toyed with me! You showered me with affection, but you were clearly relieved to see me gone and destroy what I held dear!"

"I was not!"

"Be quiet. You should know that you will be marked by me forever. Burning my music wasn't enough to denounce me, not when your voice itself was shaped and refined by me. Every time you open your mouth to sing, you give yourself to me. Every time you sing, you sing for me, regardless of where you are and to whom you give your heart."