She's never been truly happy, she realised. And when she was, the joy was soon taken away.
Her dear father for instance.
Without a mother, he'd strived to give her the best start in life, and he did, bless his soul.
Such good, innocent times, she smiled to herself, ignoring the blazing pain that was ever so slowly beginning to fade.
A good, simple man, Gustave Daae was. One of the many reasons why she named his grandson after him.
She could see him now, his warm eyes smiling at her as he played the violin...his voice cautious as he told her to be careful with that scarf, it was her mother's...the ache in her heart not unlike what she was feeling now as the red fabric flew out to sea, the waves seemingly taunting her as it drifted further and further away...then, a clear, young voice...
"It's all right; I'll go and fetch your scarf out of the sea."
Raoul. Her friend, her strength, her husband...
Her smile faltered. Oh, Raoul...
She looked up, but saw nothing but a single light in the darkness. A candle. A chapel. The small sounds of her sobs as she mourned her father.
"When I am in heaven, child," he had whispered. "I shall send the Angel of Music to you."
Oh, had he known the repercussions of his words...
A soft, male velvet voice. "Why do you cry?"
She had wondered many times what would've happened had he stayed silent in the shadows.
Would she too have stayed silent for years, grief for her father eating at her until she ended it? Would she have been able to sing as well as she could in her prime? Would Raoul have noticed her? Would he...her Angel...her Erik. Would he have loved her still?
She looked up again and saw her answer in his tear-filled eyes.
Yes. Yes he would.
She smiled at him, weakly caressing the exposed half of his face.
Why did he still wear his mask around her? Yes, there were others around, but his face, which caused him so much pain in all its hideous glory, was just as dear and beautiful to her as their son's.
He had to know.
She clutched his small hand, her eyes begging for forgiveness.
"Your father, your real father..."
Erik's eyes stared back in shock from their son's face. She was half-certain she would go to Hell for making him live a lie because of her weakness.
She should've told Erik that night she would never regret giving herself to him...that she loved him...
She should've stayed with him the night of Don Juan and tell him how he completed her.
Maybe things could've ended differently and they'd always be happy.
Unlike this last, stolen moment.
Splinters of ice crawled in her veins, making her grit her teeth.
But it was too late. No matter how hard Erik tried to convince her and himself she'd be fine, they both knew she wouldn't.
So many things happened in her youth and childhood that would set the future. Lies, fear, passion and weakness all fed into it until it tangled into this dramatic crescendo.
Oh, she thought as Erik held her closer, a small warmth in the impending darkness. It was nearly over...
She smiled despite the tears tearing at them both.
"I love you," she whispered. "Always have..."
"And always will," he finished brokenly.
Yes, she nodded. Always.
She didn't want to leave him or Gustave, especially when they were so close to happiness.
But she couldn't. She had to say goodbye.
She gently stroked his cheek.
"Kiss me one last time..."
And it was just like that fateful night under the Opera; their lips met with soul-shattering passion, and it wasn't the Phantom and the Prima Donna.
It wasn't the Angel of Music and Little Lotte.
It wasn't father and mother.
It was simply Erik and his Christine.
But tonight, as he pulled away, she didn't smile at him, love flowing from her eyes as tears.
Tonight her eyes were closed, and once again he could do nothing as she left, as her last breath escaped her lips in a quiet sigh.
"No," he breathed. "Christine, please..."
She remained still, silent; a single tear that was welled up in the corner of her eye trickled slowly down her cheek.
She was gone and she wasn't coming back.
Vaguely, he could make out shapes, light, movement in the distance and feel footsteps of people coming but in this moment, there was nothing.
No pain, no joy, no music.
There was only silence.
*sighs* well. that was jolly wasn't it?
and yes, I know i say i hate LND but this popped into my head and i just had to write it down.
So, how was it? good, mediocre, bad, terrible?
leave a review or message me and let me know.
And to readers of "Masked Captain": thank you to all who read, reviewed, put on alert etc thank you all very much and I am soooo sorry for not updating in ages. Life is extremely busy at the moment and most of my free time is filled with coursework and i just had to write this oneshot down before the writing mood left me again. So, yes, thank you, i'm sorry, and i hope to update as soon as things have relaxed a bit. though i regret to say this may not be for some time.