A/N: Hello! I'm Lotte Rose 37 and this is my first fan fiction. When I saw the Phantom of the Opera movie, I absolutely fell in love with everything about it! I liked the ending, but secretly wished she would have ended up with the sexy (Gerard Butler) Phantom. So this is me, venting my stress about the whole deal. I loved the characters in the movie, so you can picture them while reading (if you're visual like me and have to picture the scenes taking place in a story to fully comprehend it). Like I said, I am totally for Erik/Christine pairing, but my story does not contain too much fluff (sort of--I'll try). My goal is to tie this into the already existing ending, but we shall see...PLEASE review! Even if it's tiny! I need feedback! I HEART REVIEWERS! Anyway...shutting up...hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera, or Gerard Butler for that matter...pity.

Guardian Angel

Chapter One

Six months, seven days, and nineteen hours I had counted since that night which changed the course of my life forever. The night that would eternally haunt my mind in its significance and its pain. A pain which shook me to the deepest depths of my core, and often kidnapped me from reality. I was having one of these daydreams now; visions of red velvet and stone walls, mocking my conscience. But all too quickly, my haze cleared and the red and gold faded to ivory and mauve, and a loving hand was placed on my shoulder. "Christine, time for you to meet my Aunt Chantal and Uncle Yanik." Oh, lovely…

I stood from my place at our table and allowed Raoul to lead me to yet another acquaintance. Ignoring the pain in my thighs and abdomen, I floated across the marble of the ballroom. I had been dragged to so many of these banquets in the past several months and all so closely spaced, one can only take a certain amount of time in the confining fashions before welts start to appear.

Life with Raoul, I have to say, was very pleasant; leisure time by the hours, with servants in every corner; an orphaned ballet girl's dream. But the past 6 months had also allowed me to have a glimpse of my future; the way I would be spending the rest of my life. Of course, living in a chateau and being engaged to its handsome owner, one would assume a life of happiness. But in the hours I spent by his side, Raoul had proved himself to be…well… innocently dull, to put it simply. Something I had apparently been blind to in childhood. He was very sweet, and charming, and dashing, yet he lacked character. I often curse myself for my petty, selfish observations, pointing out flaws in a perfect man, but I just can't help wondering if…no, you did the right thing, that's why you're here, enjoying the company of Raoul's many relatives getting a look at their future in-law.

That's another thing I cursed myself for questioning. Raoul had it in his agenda, that before we were to be wed, he had business and family matters to attend to. In other words, receiving approval from his family to add an heir into his will, and entrust his fortune to a title-less bride. But I felt no pressure to impress as I neared the awaiting couple, as I had become numb to it after the first 40 meetings.

The man and woman eyed their future niece-in-law up and down several times before extending their greetings. The woman reminded me of a pear as she acknowledged me with a nod and half-smile. Her dress was a dull shade of sage, and gemstones heavily adorned her narrow, drooping shoulders. Her husband, the ripened swash, swooped down dramatically, and kissed my hand, lingering over my skin with his rather ridiculous mustache. God forgive me for my sins of judgment, if comparing my finance's relatives to autumn fruits can be deemed as one. But I couldn't help myself. I honestly could not find the origin of my fiancé's good looks in any of his family.

"Miss Daae" swooned the squash, "tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Yes my dear, our nephew has spoken highly of you." Pear replied, "Though it seems he is not the only one. I hear you are quite the talk of the city." Her voice was skeptical and snub, and I felt color rising to my cheeks. Roaul obviously caught on to my discomfort and hastily searched for words to excuse.

"Oh, yes, well we have had quite a year, and I'm sure Christine has enjoyed meeting you, but we really must beg your pardon, there are many more acquaintances to be made before the night is through. We will be sure to send you the wedding invitation." If I can count on Raoul for one thing it would be his ability to get me out of awkward situations, I thought as he escorted me to the other side of the banquet hall. The newspapers had left out no detail in their description of that night, and it pained me to think that everyone one in Paris had read and knew all about my involvement with the Opera Populaire scandal. I had noticed Raoul was about to say something but was interrupted when two giggling girls hesitantly addressed him.

"Excuse us, but are you not the Viscount de Changy?"

Raoul's expression swelled with pride as he acknowledged his admiring fans. "Ooo! We heard all about your heroic act in rescuing Miss Daae from the Opera Ghost himself! We just had to meet you! Would you mind retelling your brave tale?"

"Thank you both very much but I'm quite busy at the moment—"

"Oh but we just have to hear it from the rescuer himself! I'm sure you tell it much better than the papers!" By this time word had spread that the Viscount was going to tell the story of his heroic rescue and crowd had encircled us both. This was not the first time. I had begged him on many occasions to spare me, but Raoul still could not resist the temptation to woo admiring young girls and bask in the adoration of his curious audience. I somehow managed to escape unnoticed out of the gathering, and sat down at an empty table. However, my ears were still not spared their torment. I sat, reliving each moment as he braved them with his first-hand experience.

I attempted to distract myself, and ended up staring down at my hand and twisting the ring around my finger. Raoul had, of course, taken me to purchase a new engagement ring about two weeks following the night I had given up my old one. The jeweler had insisted on the one my finger now bore, convincing us it was the latest in style and was a mark of importance in society. Seeing how I was going to be an importance in society it seemed suitable, and met Raoul's demand for it to look nothing like the original. But now as I gazed upon the glossy, cream colored pearl encircled in miniature diamonds, I realized how ironic it really was.

A pearl is an accident, an irritation in its creator; the oyster's sensitive membrane. The pearl is created by layers and layers of covering up the annoyance, until a tolerance is formed, but it still remains a mere obstacle for the oyster to overcome. However, my first ring had bore a diamond; a large, sparkling treasure, formed in intense heat and meant to last an eternity. That ring now belonged to someone else…someone who would stay locked in my conscience for eternity. Now upon my finger lay nature's mistake masquerading as a symbol of love, encircled by chips of the magnificence it will never be, taunting it, and mocking its existence.

Raoul was nearing the grand finale of his narrative, and no distraction could barricade the memories from subjugating my thoughts. "So, with the Phantom defeated by his own guilt, we boarded the gondola, and I rowed the sweet Miss Daae out of the hellish dungeon and away from its satanic occupant." The applause of the admiring crowd faded to the rippling of water trailing the gondola's stern. This was the chapter of my visions I could never seem to banish. The canal bending into a sharp turn, and I, glancing behind once again at the sight on the shore…

"Was he really that ugly!"

"Like the devil himself. His entire right side was marred beyond humanity; a grotesque, repulsive beast that should never be seen by any soul."

…he was no longer the raving, desperate phantom he had been just minutes before. He was a man, broken and alone, the look of utter despair flooding his eyes. A fallen angel…

The dramatic finale was delivered and the audience divided into clusters, further discussing the subject. The familiar feeling of curious eyes once again penetrated my nerves and the murmur of gossip flushed the rims of my ears.

The night progressed and the conversation dissipated, but my fog had failed to clear. I was admiringly spoken to several times but I casually brushed them off and continued my gaze into the deep abyss of my conscience. If I was coming off rude, I didn't notice, nor did I care as my numbness to propriety increased along with my fatigue. My eyes threatened to close and I gave a weary look to Raoul, but it wasn't until another two hours, and dragging ourselves away from conversation, that he and I were finally able to escape to the awaiting carriage.

The last street lamps were being extinguished and the clopping echoes of our vehicle seemed the single sound along the sleeping street. The lack of conversation was peaceful and I focused my gaze out window. The cobble stones glistened from the afternoon shower and moonlight caressed every shape. Like a child in its mother's embrace, the steady bounce of the carriage finally willed my eyes to close, and I surrendered to the darkness.