Monstret Under Sängen (Phantom of the Opera)

Monstret Under Sängen: Part 6 - Part 1

Author's Note:

Dear Readers,

Number one, sorry for the delay. I've been stuck on where to go. Well, I have my inspiration returned to me so maybe y'all will be getting more fluff soon!

Number two, yes, sorry, another 2-part story here. It just wouldn't fit into one chapter. It may even become a three-part. Who knows!

sarahlet2999

-----------------------------

PART 6 - Part 1

Tears.

How he hated them.

They were the devil's gift to women to use against men for their own gain. How many times had Christine wiggled her way from a lesson by using salt drops and a pouty lip, especially in the last few weeks.

Either twelve or twenty, all women knew what tears did to men.

And apparently monsters as well.

"Christine, please, you haven't had proper lessons in three weeks. Your voice is showing it, too." To the untrained listener, her angelic tones hadn't faded a bit, still as hypnotizing as his own, only far more innocent and sweet.

But, to his ears, the notes fell flat, the lungs didn't carry as easily, and the vocal cords failed.

"But, Monstret..." She trailed off, almost making him fond of that fiendish title, once laden with pain now carried on the sweet voice of a friend who had nothing else by which to name him. "Can I just have this one night off? I'll work extra hard tomorrow."

"You say that every day you skip class and only once have you managed it." He wasn't even bothering to keep the frustration out of his voice.

"Please?" She pouted her bottom lip and a crystal tear dripped down a cheek. He was helpless.

"As you wish, child. Now, will you tell me why you are so intent on escaping me?" He would be damned if it were something unimportant.

"Well...you know...the masquerade is tonight...and, I thought I might go... I'm twelve now. They said I could as long as I didn't stay up too late." She was fretting now, nervous and shifting her feet.

Safe to say, Erik wasn't happy. No, not because she would be going out among other people, no, he knew she would do that. No, but because of the dangers and he couldn't be there with her. They served liquor and she was just twelve.

"It is too dangerous."

"I know, I know. I had thought maybe you would like to go with me? You know...my friend take me to a party and keep me safe." Her blue eyes were a temptation almost more then he could bear.

"Child..." He trailed off, aware she was no more a child any more than he was a man. At twelve, she had already begun to blossom, pretty and young. Danger would find her in the pit of sin that was the New Years' Masquerade Ball.

"Please, please, Monstret Under Sängen. I would really like for you to come. I wouldn't be nearly so nervous and a lot more excited."

"Christine, I can't." He was firm and she wilted beneath his tone.

"I was hoping. I really was. I thought...maybe...I'm twelve now. I thought maybe I was old enough to see you. But, I'm not, am I?"

"Why must you keep harp on this again?" She never shut up about it. Never. Ever since she had gotten in her brain that she wanted a friend she could touch, she'd never let him have a moments peace about hiding.

"Because I want a real friend! I want someone to go with me to the party instead of trailing me in the shadows!" Her ferocity was surprising.

"Then, I must once more repeat, find a ballet rat to spend your time with."

"No!" The girl had enough audacity to stomp her foot.

"Yes!" His voice carried farther than hers, almost melting her in the intensity.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, once more the huddle little bundle he had seen so many times after losing his temper.

"No, I'm sorry. I am not angry with you. It is myself that I am angry with. I am angry I can't be who you need."

"It's okay." He could see it wasn't. Didn't she know he would have given up his kingdom of granite and mortar for merely an hour in the girl's company? A mere hour! Did she think he concealed himself willingly?

How could he approach her? His mind provided a solution.

No, I couldn't. Not ever. It would frighten her so much more. But, then again, if her Monstret Under Sängen sent him, maybe she wouldn't be so frightened. Be willing to look beyond the terror and find something she could care for. Unbelieving that he was even considering his wild notion, he spoke,

"I cannot accompany you. But, there is someone...I will send him with you. He will guard you. You will never see his face but he will be where I cannot."

"Who?" She demanded.

"The Phantom of the Opera." Oh, why am I doing this? Why would I do this?

"But..." Her bottom lip trembled. "But, he's a murderer and he's dangerous and he's scary." And I'm not scary, Christine? I, who you call a monster because you lack a better name?

"He won't hurt you. I wouldn't let him." I would never harm a single hair on your pretty head.

"But..." She whimpered and huddled in the cloak before nodded quietly. "If that's all. Will he be kind?"

"Yes, yes, Christine. He will be kind."

"Will I be as safe with him as am I with you?" Oh, the child-like trust of his young friend!

"Yes, as safe as you could possibly be. You must see past the danger, the mystery, and remember I sent him. And, he is dangerous to all but you."

"Then, I accept. If it is the best you can do."

"I'm afraid it is."

"Then, could you tell him to possibly meet me in an hour in the dormitories? I'll be ready then."

"Of course, Christine."