This story is a mixture from Phantom of the Opera and Love Never Dies. It pulls a little from both, but it does not follow the full story line to Love Never Dies. It starts six months after the end of Phantom, about in time with the story told in "Beneath a Moonless Sky" from Love Never Dies. It is ChristinxErik. It treats Raoul as Love Never Dies does. It spans the time between the two. I own neither the musical nor the characters associated, only my story here. I hope you enjoy and review. The M rating is for scenes between Christine and Erik and for violence with Raoul.
Paris, 6 months after the Phantom's supposed death.
Christine Daae sat at her dressing table, placing her perfect locks into the correct positions so she might go out into public looking acceptable as the future Vicomtess de Chagny. She smiled sadly at herself in the mirror. All the pearls adorning her neck and dresses fitting snugly to her small frame could never make her feel the way she had felt before.
After fleeing the opera house Raoul had sworn she would not perform again, for fear that, though his death was rumored, the Phantom would once again claim Christine and entrap her. At first, Christine had been wholeheartedly for this, having been so scared after her last encounter on the stage. However, as time healed her wounds she yearned for music…most of all, his music.
"Miss Daae?" a voice flowed in from outside her doorway.
"Yes?" she rose to meet the woman plainly dressed, hair back in a simple twist, eyes dark and empty.
"I was told to deliver this to you personally." She handed her a simple letter with a wax seal on the back. All at once, Christine's heart stopped.
"Thank you," she responded, nodding and clutching the letter in her hand. Was it fear? Excitement? That rose in her then? Could she truly be happy he was alive? She wanted to be disgusted with herself. He deserved to be dead. He had hurt her, threatened her, tricked her into doing his bidding. But…
Her hand ran along the seal. Amidst all the fear and dread he brought within her, he brought something else, something intoxicating. No drink or drug could ever make her feel the way he had. The hours they'd spent, never seeing, never speaking, only singing in secret. The songs and melodies that had danced in her dreams for years. The deep, strange world he had created underneath the opera house….it was….beautiful. Strange, and yet, it was still so beautiful. And their kiss….her heart stopped once more.
She had thought she would be repulsed when she had pressed her lips so deeply to his, drinking in his taste, feeling his smooth lips against her own, shivers radiate down her spine. She had half a notion to stay there with him instead of running back to Raoul, but….she had done what she thought was right, what she thought she must.
And after that moment she had been so sure they had come and taken him. She'd been so sure she would never lay eyes on him again. That his music would never fill her dreams. Yet here was his seal plain as day in her hand.
She flicked her fingernail underneath and plied back the wax, pulling forth a small penned note. It was an address. Was this a jest? Was someone toying with her? All at once hot anger rose up within her. Who would do such a thing? Who would make such a horrid joke?
But then, suddenly, the thoughts changed. What if it was him? Would she dare go? "Tonight," she told herself, folding the piece of paper up into her drawer. Tonight, she would go and see if this was torture or truth. Curiosity could not help but force her to see for herself who had beckoned her.