I do not own the Phantom of the opera, only the characters, not from the original cast and the plot. I do not own any songs used in the story. This is a work of fiction based off the Phantom of the opera.

{~~}

A chipper Christine carried a tray full of food and freshly squeezed orange juice towards her sister's room. Dawn had risen, and the sun beamed brightly over Paris. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits this morning. But none could hold a candle to Christine happiness.

Without knocking on the door, Christine entered her sister room, seeing her disheveled and tangled in a mess of bed sheets. She was fast asleep, snoring lightly with her lips parted and face buried in a pillow. A light laugh escaped her mouth at the sight. Gently Christine placed the tray down.

Angeletta heard the quite noise beside her head and could feel the presence of someone close by. Without hesitation she drew her sword, rising out of bed to face the intruder. She was ashamed to look into the startled eyes of her sister, whose neck had her blade against.

"I'm sorry Christine, you startled me," Angeletta apologized profusely, dropping her sword.

"It's alright, no harm no foul," Christine joked, gulping back her fear. "I brought you some breakfast, I'm afraid I have rehearsals today, but you could accompany me later for a walk, I would love to show you the near by river."

"I would like that. Thank you," Angeletta gave her sister a heart warming smile before she dismissed herself.

Angeletta was ashamed that she had held her sword up to her own sister's neck. Her father's sword... She ran a hand through her knotted hair taking a deep breath. If she had not taken a moment to see who her intruder was she would have driven the sword through her sister without a second hesitation.

After eating and dressing for the day in the same clothes as the day before, Angeletta took a carriage back to the brothel. She explained the situation to mama Sucile who was more than happy for the young woman. She packed up her things and promised to visit before leaving Paris again. When she returned to the opera house everywhere but the stage was quite as rehearsals took place. Angeletta dumped her belongings into her quarters, before venturing off deeper into the unknown corridors of the opera house.

Unknown to her that a certain Opera ghost lurked in the shadows following her every move with a penetrating stare.

A curious Angeletta stopped outside of a chapel door in curiosity. As she moved closer she saw a single candelabra on the floor with a portrait of her late father above it. Upon seeing it she collapsed to her knees staring at it with tears building up in her eyes. Taking out her sword she places it across her lap, staring into the eyes on the portrait.

"I am so sorry Father. I hope you forgive me for leaving Christine, for going to war, for killing-" She chokes out.

She wished she could hear his voice, seek solace in her father once more. Would he tell her to stop fighting? Of course, he was her teacher in the field, but he never told her to fight in other men's battles only her own. She knew without having to ask that he would want her to stay with Christine, keep her safe and be her kind loving older sister.

"I have lost my way father." She cries out, lowering her head.

She was rewarded with silence. Her foolish mind let her think for a second that maybe the Angel Christen spoke of was real. Would he speak to her? she felt a fool for even thinking of it. But she already acted a fool for talking to a portrait of her father, who could not hear her.

Erik waited silently in the shadows watching the girl conflict between emotions. Sadness, pain, anger, back to sadness. He knew he was intruding on a private matter, but he could not keep away from the woman for some strange reason.

"Be still, my love

I will return to you

However far you feel from me," Angeletta began to sing the song her father wrote just before his tragic illness took him.

Erik moved forward entranced, eyes closed as the sweetest sound graced his ears.

"You are not alone

I will always be waiting

And I'll always be watching you," Angeletta continued, taking a moment to place a kiss on the handle of the sword.

"Speak to me, speak to me, speak to me,"

Erik moved closer, his head swaying to the angelic sound of her voice. Was that a call out to him? Was she seeking to speak with him as his Christine did?

"Is it me you are calling out to mademoiselle?" Erik questioned aloud.

Angeletta drew in a sharp breath, clasping onto the handle of the sword and standing to her feet. Before she could defend herself the candle blew out and left her standing in the darkness, blindly pointing her sword into the air. The voice sounded as if it were coming from each direction of the room.

She closed her eyes, as they rendered a useless sense in the dark. By doing so she heightened her other senses, focusing on her hearing. It took a moment for her to hear it but soon the steady sound of a person exhaling could be heard besides her. Her hand immediately reached out clutching the forearm of a man, her sword following suit in the same direction. Before it could strike the man it was knocked out of her grasp cluttering to the floor.

"I mean you no harm, Madam," The velvety voice declared.

The pit of her stomach coiled in a strange sensation at his voice.

"Excuse me for my rash actions, but I have every right to be wary when in the presence of a foreign man in the darkness," Angeletta informed him.

Erik took a deep breath relishing in the tight grip in which she held onto his arm. It was exquisite to be so close to her. He could smell a strong scent coming from her, like freshly squeezed lemons. Taking a risk- knowing she was unarmed- he took a step closer to inhale it some more.

"It would be wise to keep your distance, monsieur," She warned.

"Must I point out that you are the one holding onto me," The man pointed out.

"And I shall keep on holding onto you until I see you as no longer a threat. Who are you?" She asks, feeling his muscles flex under her fingertips.

He yearned to reach out and touch her, just once, an innocent stroke to her cheek perhaps.

"I have been called by many names over the years..." He trails off, after giving her a vague answer.

"Your name, monsieur," She insisted, tightening her grip in warning.

A sweet shiver ran through his body as she did so.

"Erik Destler," Erik knew the woman was highly intelligent, if he had answered with any of his other names, she would know exactly who he is.

"Erik..." The man felt a shift in his pants at the sound of his true name coming from her lips. "What are you doing in here, Monsieur Destler?"

Angeletta knew she should pick up her sword, in fact fighting him off should have been the first thing she did when she grasped him. But instead, she found herself having a civil conversation with the mysterious man. She wished she could see him, for his voice was playing cruel tricks on her body. He sounded very handsome, his voice deep, but smooth like velvet. Perhaps it was the darkness that made his voice sound so sensual to her. Never had she been intrigued by a man, from only hearing his voice.

"I was walking past and I couldn't help but over here your singing, you have a lovely voice, like an angel," He compliments.

No-one has ever complimented her on her voice before, it was always Christien who was praised for her singing. In fact, until now no-one but her father had heard her sing. It wasn't something she enjoyed. She would only sing because her father enjoyed it so much.

She realized that the silence was stretching on and she had yet to thank him. "Thank you," Angeletta mumbled out, not used to such sincere compliments for a man.

"Have I proven that I am not a threat to you yet?" He questions, taking a step closer, feeling his side brush against her front.

"Perhaps I just don't want to let go," Angeletta daringly stated after feeling her body tremble at the slight brush of his body against hers. Her mind was already wandering to the dark places of her mind, and she didn't even know the man.

Erik was stunned into silence at this point, was the siren before him really seducing him? If she could see the hideous face behind the mask she would not be so forthcoming with him. And if she learned of his true nature, how he has been toying with her sister, she would surely drive her sword through his chest.

"Do you want me to let go?" Angeletta asks, pushing her body closer to his, her free hand reaching out and running over his chest.

No, never let go, Erik wants to plead to her. His eyes roll back in pleasure at the feeling of a woman's hands touching him so tenderly. So sensually. The grip on his arm disappears and suddenly there are two hands on his chest, inching their way up to his neck in a caress.

Erik's body suddenly disappears from beneath her fingertips when the chapel door opens and the darkness is flooded by candle light. Angeletta looks around in a daze for the man, but there is no one there. Picking up her sword, she places it back into the holder on her belt. Where could he have gone in such a haste?

"Angeletta, what are you doing standing in the darkness by yourself?" Christine questions, coming towards her sister.

"I-" She stopped realizing telling her innocent sister about what happened would be a wrong idea. "I was just saying a prayer to father."

"I often come here to speak with him also. Sometimes the angel of music comes and speaks to me here. He tells me that father sends his love and is always watching over me," Christine tells her sister with a dreamy, smile.

"You must stop talk of such foolish things, angels do not exist, and when I meet the man who has tricked you in to thinking such things I will drive my sword through him," Angeletta threatens with a snarl at the man taking advantage of her sister.

"No, you mustn't hurt him," Christine pleads.

"Let's not speak of talk of angels or ghosts. Are you finished with your rehearsals now?" Angeletta questions, not wanting to upset her sister.

"Yes, I am," Christine answered with a confused frown.

"Excellent, you can show me to this river you spoke of then?" Angeletta reminded her, walking out of the chapel with one last glance around the room for the mysterious man.

"Of course." Christine's frown turned into a smile at being able to show her sister her favorite discovery. "If there is one thing I remembered about my dear sister if how much she loves to explore new places."

Angeletta knows that if she were to meet with this man calling himself her 'angel of music' she would not hesitate to harm him. Christine is innocent. He is clearly praying upon her by pretending to be the promised angel sent by our dead father. It's almost like he has poisoned her mind into trusting him. She denies the truth as soon as it is said.

Her mind wanders to Erik, her stomach swarming with a foreign light feeling. She hopes that this will not be the last time she meets him. For when they meet next they will not be drowned in the darkness, where she cannot see the face of the mystery man. They will be in the light, and she will see the face of the man who has her so captivated, from just one meeting together.

{~~}

Erik lets out a deep breath once the women left the chapel where he waited behind a trap door listening in. Angeletta had awoken a deep longing in him now that she had so openly touched him. He knew from that point that there was no return for his desire towards Christine as a new angel, dark and impure stood with open arms towards him. But one problem lay in his way. He is the angel of music, and Angeletta has made her hatred for him very clear.

He retreats back to his home beneath the opera house. Ripping his cloak from his shoulder, he chucks it to the ground in his anger. Taking to his easel, he picks up a pencil already inspired by Angeletta's beauty, wanting to capture it in a drawing.

She may want to kill the angel of music, but she has shown Erik a kindness no woman, not even Christine has shown. He could feel in in the way she touched him, she craved Erik the same way he craved her.

If Erik is who she want's, then Erik is who she'll have.