A/N: Ok well I hope you all like this. I haven't written any fanfiction in a while, but I got very inspired for this story. And as usual, I don't own anything, no matter how much I wish I did. Also I'd love some reviews on this to see if you like it ( or hate it) :) all responses are appreciated.
It should have been the easiest choice I've ever made. Raoul was handsome, wealthy, and loved me dearly. He was the choice I was expected to make. He was exactly what any girl wanted to marry. So I had fled the underground lair, fled the entire opera house, and even the city of Paris to stay in Raoul's country house. I had been there two weeks and I was content.
Raoul was wonderful and kind, he had treated me like a princess since we had arrived. He had given me a wonderful room with a spectacular view of his gardens. There was a little fountain with a stone angel that I could see from my window; the gentle sound of falling water was soothing to my strained nerves. I would often sit by the window and read, or write and just listen to the water.
But mostly I was just growing bored here. There were no other guests staying with Raoul at this time, and no other family that was here either. The number of servants was limited as well, so they had very little time to sit and chat with me as they had other duties and chores to accomplish.
Raoul seemed to be continually busy with something after the first few days. He was always saying he had work to do, but what this work entailed was beyond me. I longed to have work to do as well. I had never been this bored in all my life. At the opera house we were always rehearsing, or taking a dance technique class, or practicing my music. And when one of these things failed to be taking up all of my time girls who were my friends surrounded me and we would talk and laugh, go to a café and flirt shamelessly with some young poet or another. My hours were filled with laughter, joy, and passion.
At dinner one night I spoke with Raoul about my weariness with the country and he suggested I take up ridding the horses in the stables. I found one very sweet horse, Chloe. She had a glossy brown coat and a black tail and was quickly becoming my closest friend in the country. I would ride her every day, exploring the area around the estate, but never traveling too far for fear of getting lost. But I had nothing to fear; Chloe was very intelligent and always knew the way back. But Chloe could only satisfy me temporarily. She was a wonderful creature, but she could in no way complete my life.
It only took a short time before Raoul and I started to fight, bickering about the smallest of things, and that escalated into much larger fights. We fought about staying in the country, I wanted desperately to go back to the city, but Raoul simply wouldn't have it. We fought about Raoul's increasing advances. His kisses grew more and more needy – and he would argue that our wedding was fast approaching, what harm would it do to go a little bit further? I of course argued for my purities sake, but I had another, hidden reason. While I loved Raoul dearly, I never felt anything exciting from his kisses, no excitement. I hoped this would change after our wedding night, but till this point I simply didn't desire him in that way.
I couldn't understand why I didn't; Raoul was very attractive, any other girl would have been mad about him. Actually, I can understand it. I had very briefly tasted something much more intense and terrifying and completely thrilling. I couldn't help but think about it, couldn't help but think about those few stolen caresses. They drove me wild when I would least expect it. Those images would spring to mind when Raoul's advances grew more amorous. I would press my hands against his chest and push him away, babbling some nonsense about Christian purity. I was flushed and heated, feeling myself desperate for some kind of release from all the tension building up inside me. Raoul had never elicited this kind of response from me. I sighed and went to the window, closed my eyes and left the night breeze waft across my face.
I missed him. I missed him terribly. He had been such a big part of my life for so long – and now he was just gone. He probably wasn't even alive though. All the papers had said as much. "Opera Ghost Dead". I remember reading that the day we left Paris. I had to hide my tears from Raoul because he spent most of the journey glowing from reading the same headlines. I couldn't bear to let him see how saddened I was by Erik's death; I loved him too much for that.
This was supposed to be so easy. I was supposed to be completely contented here with Raoul, but I still had this nagging uneasiness in the pit of my stomach. It was supposed to be so simple – and yet, it wasn't.