Erik sat in his cave and wept. It had been a full week since Christine had gone, and still he could not bring himself to forget about getting her back. But he had promised her that she could go and that he would not come for her. Then again, she had also promised him twice that she would stay. She’d meant to, and would have, if it weren’t for that kiss. Kisses were supposed to end in blissful joy for the two who shared it, not in the girl leaving. Erik stood and went over into the side room where the wedding gown that he had made for Christine sat on the mannequin, completely untouched. She would have looked like an angel in that dress. An angel of music. No! He couldn’t start thinking like that. It was too late. Christine’s perfectly harmonious voice, a voice that he had shaped, echoed in his mind, where she called him her angel of music. Erik stumbled towards the mannequin and found himself weeping on the shoulder. What good was being in love if love did nothing but tear your heart right from your chest? He wondered yet again if Christine’s heart yearned for him like his did for her, or if she was perfectly happy with Raoul.
Christine did long for the Phantom. His voice was always so clear and perfect, matching hers to perfection. Why had she left? Raoul had nothing to offer her, compared to the Phantom. The Phantom had promised and could give her companionship, an underground palace, and love. Of course, there was his whole disfigurement, but Christine cared nearly nothing for looks. Besides he had a mask. If his face became unbearable, he could just put it on, and they could continue in as if nothing had ever happened. He would too. And it was even more of a shame because she had never even learned his real name. She would always call him the Phantom and nothing more. Unless… should she? Was it worth it? Did she really want to? Christine waited until Raoul left, wrote a long letter about love and how it comes and goes for him, so that he wouldn’t feel awful that she had left. It was still faintly snowing, so Christine threw her cloak around her shoulders and ran for the opera house, which she had not set foot in since the week before.
Once inside, she avoided the areas where people were likely to be, and headed for the back alleyways the phantom had shown her. When she found one with a duct that led all the way down to the cave, she puzzled over how she would get his attention. Saying Phantom wasn’t going to be enough, obviously. What should she do? Why, she would do what she was best at, of course. She would sing. She cleared her throat and began a new chorus of Angel of music.
“Angel of music, your love has come home. I beg you to reclaim me. Angel of music, I call you softly, hoping you would forgive me,” sang Christine. She heard no reply, so she took up a louder tune, one he would recognize. “In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came. That voice which calls to me, and speaks my name. And do I dream again, for now I find the Phantom of the opera is there, inside my mind.”
Almost mercifully, a reply came, and Christine nearly wept at the sound of that voice.
“Sing once again with me our strange duet. My power over you grows stronger yet. And though you turn from me, to glance behind, the Phantom of the opera is there, inside your mind.”
It was at that point that Christine broke down into tears, and said; “Phantom, come find me, please! I was wrong! I love you, not Raoul. I don’t’ know what made me think it was the opposite.”
Erik was in Heaven. He couldn’t believe his luck. No, not luck. It couldn’t be. It was fate, or perhaps even destiny. Fortunately, he knew exactly where she was. She was down by the south passageway, one of the few of his haunts that he had gotten to show to her. He buttoned up his shirt, threw on his jacket, slipped on gloves, put on his black hair and mask, and then rushed for the exit. In ten minutes he had arrived. The moment their eyes met, they ran into each other’s arms and began to laugh and cry all at the same time. Christine kissed him and he felt the same rush that he had felt the last time that they had kissed. Only this time, it was not a farewell kiss, all bitter and no sweet; it was a kiss of passion, not a hint of bitter even lurking between the lines. No thoughts of Raoul or Erik’s face or remembrance of the time that they had spent apart. Only their love of the present remained.
“One question before we head to the cave again,” said Christine as they held hands and faced the adjoining hallway. “What is your real name?”
“Erik. I should have told you before; it just never crossed my mind before.”
They walked and talked and sang the whole way back. Once there, they weren’t really sure what to do, since they’d done all the things they’d done before already. There was pretty much only one thing left that they could do. Lie on the couch and have a teenage make out session. Which they did, obviously. Christine then insisted that they not delay it any further, she ran to the side chamber, pulled the curtains shut, and came back out wearing the gown, veil, and crown. Erik’s eyes lit up as the future that he had planned for them quickly became a possibility again. There was really no way they could have a traditional ceremony, so they just sang a romantic duet about how they would have and love each other forever. It brought tears to both Erik and Christine’s eyes. Then they kissed. Christine and Erik then made dinner, ate it, and Christine fell asleep on the couch, which meant Erik would yet again carry her into the bedroom and set her down in the shell shaped bed. Only this time, e crawled in next to her.
For those of you wondering about how Raoul took the news of Christine’s leaving, he handled it like a gentleman, and moved away to another country, where he then found another girl. They got married and started a family and life all of their own. What about Christine and Erik? The same thing happened to them. And they all lived happily ever after, the right way.
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