Author's Note: My first phantom story, tell me what you think, I would love to hear any opinions or ideas,

Christine's words are italic and the Phantoms italic and bold

Disclaimer: I own nothing sadly,

Insight

Have you gorged yourself at last, in you lust for blood?

(The Phantom turns to glare at her menacingly)

Am I now to be prey to your lust for flesh?

That fate which condemns me to wallow in blood has also

Denied me the joys of the flesh…… this face, the infection

Which poisons our love…………

(His voice breaks with emotion, slowly taking the veil and places it on her head a little roughly)

This face, which earned a mother's fear and loathing, a mask

My first unfeeling scrap of clothing……..

Pity comes too late, turn around and face your fate,

An eternity of this before your eyes.

(Almost touching, she looks calmly and coldly into his face. Stepping away she pulls down a drape that had been covering a mirror)

This haunted face holds no horror for me now……..

It's in you soul that the true distortion lies….

He turns from her, feeling the anger rise in his throat. How dare she he thought, how dare she accuse him of being a monster within. It hurt more than being a hideous beast on the outside. He turned so his back was facing her; he didn't want her to see how much her statement hurt. He was trying to think of something to say, but all he could think was that he really was a monster. He remembered the men he killed, the things he had done. He had tortured people, captured the only thing he really cared about and was going to force her to do something she didn't want.

The magnitude of the situation hit him hard. His feelings came at a rush, he felt so ashamed and terrified that in his blind rage he didn't know what he was capable of doing. Sobs started to rack his body, his pent up pity and loneliness took over. And he realized that he would have to let her go, which hurt beyond reason.

He loved her, and she wasn't happy with him, nor could he ever make her happy because of the monster he had become.

He sank to the floor, wishing to be alone. Just then he felt warm hands circle his head and felt himself being cradled in the chest of his beloved. He froze, he had never been cradled or shown this much affection ever in his life.

"Shhh, there, there my angel, do not weep." She patted his head; she didn't know what she was doing. She watched him think of her words and then he just starting crying. The crying was so fierce she grew terrified for him. A lump had gathered in her throat and before she knew it, she was on the floor beside him trying desperately to heal the wounds she had created.

He no longer looked manacling but helpless, and she couldn't bear to see her angel cry. After a few minutes locked in her embrace, his sobbing subsided and she released him. He sat up and they stared at one another for a few moments. Neither could break the silence, the embrace they shared created a bond between them, a kind of truce.

"I am sorry," his voice was barely above a whisper. "I have put you through so much pain, I could hardly realize what I was doing. I was blinded by my love for you, and my jealously and hate for him. I wished," here he paused, head downcast unable to meet her gaze, "wish that you could have loved me, but a monster I am in and out."

His breathing had become heavy; he closed his eyes and couldn't bear to say the next words but they came tumbling out anyway. "Go, leave me to my solitude, and just promise you won't forget me. I...I will miss you, Christine. Maybe someday my soul will not be … ugly," he finished his last thought with a sigh. Knowing what he had done was for the best.

She paused, had she heard him correctly, he was releasing her. He was sorry for what he had done, she could see that, and he was willing to let her go. Despite her wish to leave earlier, she had no desire now. His mask had come off for a moment, not for his face but his soul. The soul that he always kept hidden, the soul that had been bruised and broken by lots of people. She knew that if she left then his soul would die. She didn't love him as much as he loved her. She cared for him, he was her angel. He gave her voice wings, let her spirit soar. She owed him that much. Maybe someday, after healing then together they would learn to love each other and become one. Raoul would get over the loss quickly; she loved him she realized but only as a playmate.

She could see now that the only thing they shared was the memories of the past, and he was just someone to comfort her when she thought she needed comfort. All she needed was the Phantom, he was her guardian, and he had helped heal her wound from the death of her father. Raoul would still be dear to her heart, but in the instant where she saw her angel's broken heart, she knew who needed her more, which she cared for more.

Seizing courage from her decision, she placed her delicate hand upon his. He looked into her eyes with such hope and desperation that she knew she was lost to him already.

"I shall not leave you, I want to stay." He held his breath, was she joking.

He shook his head, wanting this nightmare to leave, why did she have to torture him with thoughts of staying.

"Angel, look at me," her voice was desperate; "I want to be with you, we can be healed together, the pain we share shall be one. Please let me stay."

"Oh Christine," his voice was full of emotion, "I could never deny you anything, but is this what you really want, to be condemned for eternity with the devil's child."

"No, not with the devil's child, but with my angel," she laughed a little; the Phantom couldn't see what was funny. "Do you know I don't know your name? Your real name."

He smiled slightly, realizing her amusement. She seemed to be in earnest about her request to stay with him, "Erik, my name is Erik." It sounded foreign on his tongue. She smiled at him, how could she have ever feared him, he looked like a little boy being scolded in front of his mother.

"Erik . . . Erik, hmmm I like that name," she was trying the name to see how it sounded on her tongue. Erik had closed his eyes relishing in the angelic sound of her voice saying his name. Just then they heard a noise, someone was coming, and Erik had a good guess to who that was, the Vicomte.

"It something wrong, Erik, what is it?" She could sense his tense behavior, she was afraid.

"I think, my dear we have a guest." He sneered.

Tell me what you think, good, bad, do I need to be shot.

Also I would like to know, should I have them escape before Raoul appears or should I have a confrontation