A/N: I am back. After around a year of reading stories, I have been inspired and decided to write a story of my own. I must admit that I am a better critic than an actual writer, so I apologize before hand if this story is inadequate or unsatisfying. It's also very fluffy and short FYI. The inspiration bug bit me quite hard, and I was itching to get this story out of my head. It's actually more in a planning format, but I felt that it was ready enough to share online. I may choose to elaborate the story in the future, or I may not. We'll see.

Please feel free to flame, criticize, or compliment! All kinds of reviews and responses are welcomed (:

And no, I don't own The Phantom of the Opera. The characters belong to M. Gaston Leroux and Erik's best buddy belongs to ALW.

February 22, 2011

A Child's Toy

Chapter One

Erik was not home today, and the house was dreadfully lonely without his presence. Christine reclined on the couch with a book clutched in her small hands.

Boredom niggled at her mind. There was simply nothing to do other than to sit and read until he came home… unless she could find something interesting to occupy her time.

Her bare feet made no sound as she glided through the lonely rooms. As she explored the house, Christine's wanderings brought her before a door that she had never noticed before.

The door was unlocked. 'If Erik wanted me to stay out of this room, he certainly would have locked it. I am sure that he knows how curious I am!' she thought. Christine pressed her hands against the door, and with a slight push, the door gave way.

Christine found herself in a very empty room in the very empty house. The walls and floor were made of cold grey stone and a single mattress lay bare in the far corner of the room.

With a start, Christine realized that this was Erik's room. She had always imagined that he would live extravagantly, with intricately decorated walls and a large luxuriant bed fit for a king.

She certainly did not expect for her Angel to be living such a minimalist lifestyle.

As she sat down upon the mattress to think and wonder about this mysterious and lonely man, she suddenly jumped back up. From her seat, Christine gently picked up an old and worn toy. The fabric was torn and stained with age, and the seams holding it together were becoming quite loose. Its glossy button eyes gleamed at her as they hung from its sockets by threads.

Christine smiled.

Erik was exhausted. Having Christine in his home was truly an event for him to rejoice, and so he made very sure that he would enjoy every second of her presence.

The managers have not been very cooperative as of late, and tried to recast Carlotta as the lead. No thank you, Erik did not with for such a thing to happen, and unhappy as he was to leave Christine for even a moment, he ventured up by himself to deal with some business.

He made sure that Carlotta would not be singing anytime soon, and that the managers would not be bothering him for a while.

He had not slept for days and Erik found that if he wanted to truly enjoy having Christine in his home, ne required a short nap.

His eyelids felt extremely heavy.

Christine was not seen on the couch where he had left her, so he assumed that she had gone to sleep also. It was quite late in the evening. Erik drug himself into his room and immediately felt that there was something wrong.

Something was missing.