Disclaimer: I have not, nor ever will, own The Phantom of the Opera in both the book, and the many versions of its movies. My heart wishes to unleash the creativity of my soul, and express the love that I feel for Erik (the Phantom) and Christine. With that said, this story will be an E/C pairing, and if you do not approve, it is only a suggestion that you do not read any further than this disclaimer.

Red Rose

Chapter I: Return to the Opera House

The cellar was a dark place. The cellar was a lonely place. How could one possibly stay in such a dreadful, unkind subterrane for more than a moment? After a while, I'd assume the person would be wishing to see nothing more than the glorious light of day. But then, there are those who want nothing more than to hide from it. There are those…who wish to hide from the light.

Erik had once allowed such a magnificent light to enter his life, although not from that of day. Her name was Christine Daae; at least that's what he preferred to call her, for now she had married. Just the thought of that foolish viscount, touching his beautiful maiden, even looking at her, filled his heart with pain of the most horrible kind.

Erik had molded Christine, taken her under his wing and taught her all he knew. He was her angel of music. What good was that now? She had denied her angel, she had betrayed him. The memory burned strongly in the phantom's mind. They were rowing away, into the mist, leaving him there in his solitude, a deeply saddened look upon his beastly face. To make such a memory worse, Erik remembered the lasting sensation of Christine's petal-soft lips against his own, the only cruel image that kept him living. It was such a passionate kiss, and if he had not attempted to kill Raoul with his magical lasso, the Opera Ghost only wondered if she still would've kissed him. Would she still have blessed his lips with her touch, even without his mask on? Yes, the white mask which obscured the right side of his face, the only thing that allowed a monster to masquerade as a man. Never again would Erik allow himself to fall victim to her. He was her angel of music no longer.

……

Christine embraced the white, silk pillow in her arms. She rested her chin down atop it and inhaled the masculine scent of her lover. The former mademoiselle could hardly believe her luck. Married to her childhood sweetheart, and a countess no less. It was like a sweet dream, which she only dared to wake up from.

Although, as she lay in bed, Raoul sleeping soundly beside her, a strong arm wrapped gently around her waist, Christine couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. The emptiness that filled a part of her heart was slowly growing inside her. Unlike the many times before, Christine no longer heard the innocent, pure voice of her male friend. She missed the soothing melody of that music box, which she often heard play inside the lair of the phantom. She remembered it quite clearly. A monkey was dressed in Persian robes and in his hands he held a pair of cymbals. Inside, was the velvet lining in which she thought beautiful. But the thing she missed most of all was the tune that it played, the tune that, once again, reminded her of him. Christine often spoke of it to Raoul. He never really understood its importance to her, and she preferred to keep it that way.

Christine also missed Madame Giry, for she thought of her as a mother. She missed Meg, the chorus girls, oh; the young child missed so much! Perhaps she would use these many excuses to sneak her way back into the old home. What did she have to hide? Besides, she did promise dear Meg that she would visit, and I'm sure Raoul would have no problem in seeing the two managers again, unless, that is, O.G. scared them away.

Adjusting her position in bed, the girl closed her eyes and filled her head with pleasant pictures of the night.

"Oh Raoul, we must go!" Christine's voice pleaded, the next morning.

"My darling, you would have to be mad to journey back there. Have you so quickly forgotten our adventures at the Opera House? It's not wise, Christine!" He grasped her tightly with both arms, softly clutching her flesh. She had spoke of this so suddenly, an old jealously sprung through the Victome de Chagny. He knew the true reason why she wished to return.

She did not fight to get out of his hold. "Please, just to see my friends…Meg, the others…" Her eyes became glassy with unshed tears. The usually flushed skin that ran so perfectly over her petite body was now pale. "In the name of our love, do let me go there!"

Raoul was dumfounded by her heart-felt plea. He made no attempt to yell at her, tell her she was not right in the head, for he was a man in love. The nobleman loosened the grip on his wife. Without so much as a word, he gazed down at his feet and nodded slowly.

She was ecstatic. "Thank you, my loving husband!" Throwing her arms around his neck, she kissed him lightly on the cheek.

Mme. Chagny was about to scurry from the elaborate kitchen, to prepare for the tedious journey to the Opera, when a voice stopped her.

"I shall stay by your side at all times, agreed?" He spoke rather coolly that it made Christine blink several times in surprise.

"I wouldn't have it any other way!" She replied gaily, blowing him a playful kiss and proceeding to the bedroom.

Only until she was out of sight, did Raoul murmur under his breath, "The Angel of music has gotten himself some visitors… Happy day!"

In the privacy of her bedroom, Christine undressed behind a curtain, making sure no one was to see her, for she was far too shy when it came to such things. She placed her bathrobe on the bed and grabbed one of the elegant gowns that Raoul had given to her in celebration of them becoming husband and wife. Indeed, he had spoiled her during these past couple of months. Not that she was one to complain. He was so romantic towards her, a different kind of romantic from-oh, now why was she thinking of him again? Anyway, Christine chose not to wear a corset for it was extremely uncomfortable and her well-shaped body did not at all need it. She threw on some stockings, slipped into some comfortable shoes and applied the natural look of makeup on her angel-like face.

"This is exciting!" Daae smiled to herself. Quickly, she combed her wonderful brown waterfall of hair and packed herself a suitcase. While packing she discovered a withered rose within it. She had not remembered placing it there, and immediately her mind came to the conclusion that her angel scent by father had placed it there. He must've arrived in the dressing room to give her one final rose before she left to live with the viscount. Finding the singer was not there, he carefully put it in the suitcase. Christine smiled sadly to herself and stroked the petals with tenderness. The pity had yet to leave her.

"Christine, are you ready?"

Her head turned in the direction of her name. "Wait for me, Raoul!" And dropping the rose on the bed, she hurried out the door, the suitcase almost forgotten.

………..

Okay, now it's a finished chapter! Yay for me! I don't know how you guys write these 10 page chapters! I admire you! And no, I am not a Raoul fan; for I love Erik! (I would guess this fan fiction is based mostly from the ALW movie) Remember to review! And be nice, it's my first POTO story! I know nothing really happened yet, but it will get better, I promise!