FULL SUMMARY :
Erik Stoker has fallen in love with his student, Christine Daaé who is seven years below his own age. However, when Christine starts suspecting something in his over-caring behavior, she cancels off her lessons with him.
Erik's obsession with her is dangerously high, though. And he decides to kidnap her, never to share her with the rest of the world. Especially her boyfriend, Raymond de Chagny. But what Erik doesn't know is that Christine can be quite stubborn and rebellious.
Modern Day : Christine's School - Music Room
Christine Daaé took a ballpoint pen from her case and scribbled into her notebook hurriedly - why was her music teacher always speaking this fast? She could barely keep track of what she was saying! Beside her, her best friend Meg Giry was staring out of the glass window, obviously bored and obviously not paying attention to a word that Madam Sergon was speaking. But as always, she was usually this pigheaded. She let out a soft sigh and nudged Christine.
"Madam Sergon is like, seriously boring," she muttered under her breath, shooting the middle-aged woman a look as the teacher ranted on about famous musicians such as Beethoven and Mozart. Christine giggled, her hand still moving rapidly as she glanced at her friend.
"Music is interesting. But she's definitely the wrong teacher to teach us." she agreed. Meg snorted and twirled a strand of straight blond hair, her brown eyes rolling in a circular motion. To Meg, music was just another horrible subject that all students at their school had to take, not a hobby or interest. She was more into make-up and style rather than studying and reading like a fat, green little worm wearing thick glasses with a thick book on its thick body.
"Pft, music? It's interesting? Learning more about 'MAC' products are so much better, mademoiselle!" she sneered, her French accent slipping out. Christine just shrugged and placed down her pen when Sergon finally stopped babbling and had started writing on the board instead.
"Well, missar, I like music more than späd!" she said, allowing her Swedish personality to take over. Meg playfully hit her friend's shoulder. Being a French person, she couldn't understand a word that Christine would say in Swedish language.
"Hey! Don't speak in Swedish, I won't be able to understand you!" she protested and Christine chuckled. To her, just one word in Swedish was a whole paragraph to her. Meg let out a 'haye...' sound and watched as Sergon started to speak about Mozart's life.
"Now, Mozart was just 5 when he started composing? Dude, that guy is like Einstein!" Meg's jaw dropped. Christine laughed quietly and started writing again. Suddenly, Surgeon's head snapped and her eagle-like eyes stared at Meg.
"Do you have a question, Miss Giry?" she asked sharply, pushing up her glasses back onto her oily nose. Meg's eyes widen and she shook her head innocently.
"Not at all, Madam Babb- I mean, Madam Sergon." she said sheepishly, lowering her head. Sergon eyed her for a few seconds before nodding curtly and returning to her beloved whiteboard. Christine held in her laughter - Meg was the practical joker, at least, to her. But after talking about musical things, she remembered her private lesson at her tutor, Erik Stoker's, house after school.
Modern-Day : Erik's House - Sitting Room
"Again, Miss Daaé!" Erik Stoker sighed, shaking his head as he ordered her to sing the last verse again. Christine blinked and nodded before taking a deep breath. Singing such a high note was obviously difficult for her. But before the notes could pour out of her mouth, Erik waved a hand.
"Perhaps, we shall take a short break before continuing. You seem distracted lately, Miss Daaé. Your singing talents are usually not this...bland." he sighed once more, leaning back into the plush chair. Christine's head drooped and Erik glanced at her, sensing that something was wrong.
"Are you alright, Miss Daaé?" he questioned, his tone suddenly soft and kind. Although this wasn't the first time Erik had acted like that, it still shocked Christine. She was beginning to think her tutor was abnormal, able to switch from sides to sides. She didn't allow the face to pass through her, instead, she looked up and tried to smile.
"It's fine, Mr Stoker. I just...never-mind. Shall we continue?" she offered, unable to cover up her sadness. Erik narrowed his eyes and stared at her, this action made her flinch. Whenever he looked at her, it seemed as though he was peering into her soul.
"Not just yet, Miss Daaé. I sense that something is bothering you," he said slowly, pushing himself up from the chair by an inch. "Would you care to tell me about it? I don't fancy a sorrowful voice singing such a cheerful song," he pointed at the sheets of papers lying on the coffee table in front. Christine shook her head.
"I'm fine," she muttered, a bit more firmly, "Let's continue our lesson." Erik eyed his student, his face emotionless. Lying wasn't easy for someone like Christine. Lying required a mask of fake words and face features, not troubled faces and dejected tones. Moreover, he nodded.
"Very well, we will start from the start then. Get ready." he said flatly. Christine reached for the piece of paper quickly and due to her...recklessness, if it could be called that, she sustained a paper cut. Almost immediately, she withdrew her hand back. Erik's head shot up and he stood up, leaving the well-furnished sitting room. Christine stared after him as he re-entered within a nanosecond with a first-aid kit grasped firmly in his gloved hands. Christine's gaze shifted to his black gloves. It had always occurred to her on why he always wore that white porcelain mask that covered part of his face and why he was always dressed in black. 'Man in Black 4? Seems like it.' she once thought.
"Ah, there's no need, Mr Stoker! It's just a small cut-" she tried to say but Erik cut her off.
"Infection may settle in, now sit back down, Miss Daaé." he interrupted, jerking his head to the white armchair. Christine hesitantly took her seat again and watched silently as the box filled with bandages and medication was open. Erik shot a glance at her.
"May I?" he asked, reaching for her 'injured' hand. Christine quietly said 'yes' and Erik took it with such gentleness, surprising her. He retrieved a small yellow bottle and a roll of white cloth from the box and placed it on the table. Kneeling down, he inspected the cut.
"It will hurt when I apply this onto your wound. Please hold it in." he said softly, taking the bottom again and he began to unscrew the small black cap. Christine watched him - it would hurt? It was just a small cut! Erik poured a bit of its contents onto the cut and a stinging pain shot through Christine, causing her to wince. Erik ignored her and closed the glass bottle. He then took the bandage and carefully wrapped it around her ring finger. Slowly, the pain ebbed away and Christine let out a sigh of relief.
"Thank you," she smiled slightly but he didn't reply. Instead, he just stared at her hand which was still in his. Christine fidgeted uncomfortably but was too polite to snatch her hand back.
"Mr Stoker?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowing together. Erik, who seemed to had been in a trance, looked up. Instead of looking calm and collected as usual, he looked...frustrated. Christine's own sky-blue eyes widen, his eyes were mismatched. She never noticed it before. One was a bright yellow while the other was a fierce amber that seemed to be burning. In fact, both eyes seemed to be glowing.
"Christine..." he whispered, unconsciously caressing her pale hand. Christine swallowed - this was getting too much for her. First his caring behavior, second his insistence to apply medicine onto her cut and third, caressing her hand and calling her 'Christine' rather than 'Miss Daaé'? 'This...is getting freaky.' she thought worriedly. Suddenly, her instincts told her to leave the house and to never come back. And Christine did just that.
"I'm sorry, Mr Stoker. I...I have to go." she pulled her hand back and nervously stood up. She headed for the closed door and swung it open. Looking back, she noticed that Erik was watching her, his flaming eyes seeming to burn with pain. "I'm really sorry," she repeated, "But I'm cancelling our lessons from now on. Bye." With just that, she practically ran from the house, her files stuffed with musical sheets tucked beneath her arm.
As the sound of the door slammed behind the running figure, Erik remained in his position. Cancel their lessons? His only time to interact and see her? How dare she do such a thing! Another image of her flashed through his blank mind. She was so beautiful. Brown-golden curls and bright blue eyes...she was perfect. And now the little light in his life was trying to dim itself out? Without knowing it, his fists clench together and his eyes hardened. Christine belonged to him. And no other.
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