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Destiny Takes Time	By : GueritaSalome Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 19823 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story. They are the creation of Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Webber. The other characters which have not appeared in the original story are of my own making. The idea for this story is mine. I am not making any money from posting this story. I write it solely as a means of entertainment for myself and for those who read it. I hope you like it. :)

Chapter 1 – Angel No More

Christine felt so safe as she stood there, leaning back against his chest. Ever since she had come to live at the Opera Populaire when she was a little girl, he’d always been there singing to her, speaking words of reassurance, and never failing to be patient in his instruction. She had dreamed that her sweet angel would appear to her, but never had she thought that he was real in a physical sense of the word – a man of flesh and blood. Now here she was being held in those arms that she’d never believed existed, and it was refreshing to her beyond all imagination. Finally being with him like this was what she’d been waiting for her whole life; at least, it most certainly felt that way.

Aside from his presence itself, she was most struck by the time it must have taken him to draw the pictures of her that adorned his lair. The way that he had them arranged made it look almost like he’d built a shrine to her. To have gone to so much trouble, it was apparent that he must be immensely fond of her. As he sang the tender words of passion which he himself had put to music, and his hands gently roamed and caressed her body, Christine was seized with feelings and sensations that were completely new to her.

After he finished his song, she turned to look him full in the face and, without thinking, let herself be drawn in by those beautiful green eyes until their lips were touching. It was a very chaste kiss, light and sweet, neither him nor her having passionately kissed anyone before. After she pulled back, Christine saw his expression soften, and it gave her a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.

This confident, so completely charming man had never really expected her to respond to him so readily. Something about the warmth in his eyes as he looked at her so thoughtfully made her realize what she’d done – kissing this man whom she’d never seen before until tonight. She let her gaze fall, ashamed to look back up at him.

“What is it?” he asked her sweetly, running a gentle hand down her cheek. He sensed that something troubled her.

His touch made her lift her eyes again. “Nothing, Angel. I’m so glad that you decided to reveal yourself to me after all these years.”

He did not dare tell her that after her meeting with her handsome childhood friend, he felt he had to show himself or perhaps risk losing her forever.

“You don’t have to call me angel anymore, Christine. My name is Erik, and as you can see, I’m very much real,” he said, taking her hands in his.

Christine looked at him with what could only be described as adoration. She was smiling at him, an innocent, genuine smile and her eyes…those soft, deep eyes; they said everything. In all of the time that he’d been her tutor and watched her, he’d never seen an expression on her face quite like this one. He pulled her to him in a long-awaited first embrace.

How sweet it felt to rest her head on his shoulder while being pressed against that broad, firm chest. As he held her, Christine could have sworn that her heart had begun to beat faster with excitement, not the kind of excitement she’d felt on the stage that night, but something new that made her quiver and feel weak. He began to run his hand over her head, smoothing her long, curly hair. After a few moments of holding each other in silence, Christine finally slipped her arms from around him only to reach up and cup his handsome face. With one hand on his soft left cheek and the other on his mask, she found her voice again.

“Now that I know you are real, I want to know all about you…Erik.” How strange it felt to say his name. “You already know everything about me and my past. I think it’s only fair that you trust me with yours.”

He hesitated a moment, and then seeing the trust in her expression, nodded his consent. “Very well. Come, and I’ll start wherever you want me to,” he said, trying to remain calm.

Erik took her hands in his gently sliding them down off his face, relieved that it had not occurred to her to try removing his mask. With their fingers entwined, he led her to his organ bench where they sat down together. Rather than let go, Christine continued to hold his hand in both of hers. It was then that she became more aware of the fact that he was still wearing his gloves and that she’d rather be touching his hands with nothing on them. As if reading her mind, he drew away to peel off the gloves and set them to the side, then reached for her again. Gladly, she took his hand back, and began to caress it more affectionately, savoring the warm feel of it without the leather.

“So why do you live here under the opera house all alone?” Christine asked.

“For the same reason that I wear this mask,” he replied. “My appearance…frightens people.”

She could see the uneasiness in his eyes.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she told him sweetly.

“You have not seen what lies beneath my mask, dear. I can assure you, it is not a pretty sight.”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing, if you ever feel like showing me. It would not change how I think of you,” she said and reached up to caress the normal side of his face.

His heart skipped a beat at the thought that what she said might possibly be true, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“How long have you been living here?” she asked.

“About twenty years,” he replied.

Her eyes widened. It was a long time to live in such seclusion.

“And before you came here, what was your life like? What did you do?”

She knew she had hit a sore spot. Erik’s face turned serious, and he looked away from her for the first time since they’d been talking. He should have known that she would ask this sort of question. He had made her believe since she was seven years old that he was the angel of music. Upon finding out the truth, it was only natural that she would want to know everything, but he still found comfort in the fact that she had reacted with curiosity and not anger when she realized his deception.

“That part of my life is something that I wish I could forget,” he began slowly, “but I will tell you what I can. Believe me; you don’t want to know all of the details.”

“I would like to listen to however much you care to share with me,” Christine said gently and gave his hand a small squeeze.

Erik let his mind go back to the childhood that was never his to enjoy and the words just wouldn’t come out for a while.

“When I was eight, I ran away from home, unable to take my parents’ shunning any longer,” he began.

He couldn’t tell her that his own mother wouldn’t let him kiss her and never wanted him in her sight without his mask in place. So disturbed was he by the memories that he wasn’t sure whether he could tell Christine anymore. Then he reasoned that if he wanted her to trust him, he must show some trust in her.

“I wandered the streets for a while before a tribe of gypsies found me,” he continued with some difficulty. Then he added with what was obviously very deep resentment, “One of the men decided that I would be useful as…a fair attraction.”

Christine, seeing how painful it was for him to remember and even worse for him to talk about, couldn’t torment him any longer.

“Erik, it is fine if you don’t want to tell me right now. Another time perhaps, if you’re feeling up to it.” She lifted his hand to her cheek, and closing her eyes with a dreamy expression, relaxed against the soft skin of his palm.

Christine was in heaven being able to see her angel and touch him. She didn’t ever want to do anything that would make him upset with her. It had taken him so long to have the confidence to come to her, and now that he had, she wanted him to stay. Affectionately, she moved closer to him and rested against his shoulder, wrapping her arm around his neck as he caressed her cheek with the hand she’d placed there. It was as though she wasn’t sure yet that he was real and felt like she had to hold onto him for fear that he might disappear.

Erik placed his chin on top of her head in a sheltering manner. She responded with a soft sigh of contentment that tugged at his heart. All he could think was how perfect she was – perfect and entirely happy to be there with him. How long he had yearned to touch her, to hold her, and now it was finally happening. The only troubling thing was that he wanted more, but that could wait. Just as his mind had started to wander, her hand fell from his shoulder to his chest, and she began lightly caressing him.

For a second, Erik held his breath without realizing it. Was she purposely trying to arouse him? No, he thought, that was ridiculous; she was still innocent in many ways. Rather than endure the agony of not being able to respond to her touch as he desired, Erik thought that perhaps it would be best if he just let her go to sleep.

“Christine, would you like for me to show you to your room?” he asked, suppressing the nervousness that almost came out in his voice.

She looked at him with a puzzled expression. “My room? I didn’t know that I had one here.”

Erik smiled. “Of course you do. Come with me. I’ll take you.”

He got up and, taking her hand, led her to an inner chamber of his home. When he opened the door, she gasped. It was beautiful with the most ornate bed that she had ever seen. The entire thing was in the shape of a swan, and the sheets were red and velvety. There was a large wardrobe in a warm cherry finish and a vanity table complete with a mirror and matching chair. A plush white rug covered most of the floor. Adjacent to the bedroom was a complete private bathroom. Christine’s mouth was slightly open in surprise, but she didn’t know what to say.

“Will this do?” Erik asked her with a charming smile.

“Oh…yes, it’s lovely,” she answered softly as she walked over to the bed to touch the curve of the swan’s neck.

“There are clothes in the wardrobe if you wish to change,” he told her, very satisfied to see that she was content with the work that he’d put into making the room to her liking.

“I’m fine for now. Thank you.”

She slowly sat down on the bed, running her hand over it. This was far fancier than what she was used to – a simple bed in a dormitory which she shared with several other girls.

“I’ll see you in the morning then,” he told her with a slight nod and turned to leave.

“No wait!” she said instinctively. “I want you to sing to me. You sang me to sleep before many times, but I want you to do it now that you are actually with me. Please…come here.”

Christine lay down and motioned for him to sit next to her. She was smiling, a sweet, expectant smile, and her eyelids looked heavy as the need for sleep took over, giving her a wanton look. With her white gown and her hair spread out on the crimson sheets she looked like an angel to him. Many times, he had imagined her just like this on their wedding night, wearing white and beckoning him to come to her.

“Erik, please?” she asked when she saw that he was hesitating.

She had taken his silent admiration and pondering as his thinking of refusing her, but that was something that he could never bring himself to do. He made his way toward her and sat on the side of the bed. She took his hand, and he began to sing. Christine immediately recognized the song as one of the lullabies that he sang her to sleep with when she was younger. In fact, she was almost certain that it was the first one she’d ever heard him do. She closed her eyes, a smile still on her lips.

How beautiful she was, he thought as he serenaded her. For a moment he remembered her as the frightened little girl who used to cry in the chapel and felt a twinge of guilt because of the new feelings he’d discovered that he had for her now that she was a young woman. Erik’s emotions were intense, and that intensity came out in his voice; he began to sing the song with even more sentiment than he ever had before. Soon she had drifted into a restful sleep. He got up slowly so as not to wake her, and before leaving, he bent to kiss her forehead.

“Good night my darling Christine,” he whispered and lowered the black lace curtain around the bed.
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Destiny Takes Time