When Love Begins

Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom :(

Author's Note: Thanks for sticking around for Chapter 5, everybody! Promised a faster update, didn't I? (: Thank you to all of the favorites/follows I've received for this story, and the three reviews I got last chapter! Please, if you're reading, don't forget to comment - it really makes me more enthused as a writer to hear what my audience wants/thinks. This isn't a story that's already been written, so I'm always open to ideas and inspiration :) Oh, and Almost An Actress: the show was Anything Goes :) So much fun to perform! Okay, I'm done with my ranting - I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Christine's heart was full of sorrow as she made her way back to the Giry residence. In glum spirits, she could not even hum any longer. It had been quite an unsuccessful day searching for her Angel, and she wondered how she would be able to search for him for the rest of her life without giving up. She was exhausted and depressed after just a few hours. She did not even know where to begin looking for him - odds are he would not have stayed in Paris, and in that case, there were endless cities and villages where he could be hiding.

It was nearly twilight when Christine returned to the dwelling of the closest thing she had to a family. Did that make it her home, then?

Christine's aching feet welcomed the worn out mat in front of the door. She did not bother to knock - if she was going to be living there, she would have to treat it like it was her house. She turned the bronze doorknob, unsurprised that it was not locked. The moment she stepped into the grand foyer, however, she broke down. She saw Madame and Meg standing there worriedly, as though they had been waiting for her. They cared so much for her...the tears welled, and Christine could not stop them. She hurled herself into Madame's arms, and cried only that she could not find her Angel.

She was shocked that Madame knew what she was talking about.

"It is alright, my child." she soothed gently, rubbing Christine's back. "All is well."

All is well? Christine wanted to shout at her foster-mother so badly, but could not find the energy. How could all be well when her Angel was out in the world, possibly homeless or hungry? Christine stared at Madame uncomprehendingly, but before she could explain, a loud crash was heard from the floor above them. Madame Giry shut her eyes, whether in pain or irritation Christine could not tell. Meg, however, wore a much more optimistic look upon her face. She gave Christine a small, sad smile and said, "He's back."

It took Christine a moment to understand what those words meant. He's back. Breaking free from Madame's hold, Christine made a mad dash for the steps, throwing off her boots and coat as she did so. Her gloves were disposed of next, and a bright smile slipped onto her tired face.

"Christine, wait!" called Madame in despair, running desperately after Christine. "You must not go up there!"

"It's alright, Madame!" said Christine jovially, pausing only for a moment to turn around and face Meg and Madame. "He would never hurt me, you must know that! He is my Angel of Music!"

"Christine, no!" said Madame sternly, rushing to catch up with Christine. When she did, she placed a firm grip upon her forearm. "He thought that you left, Christine. You ran away with no indication that you would ever come back!"

Christine's heart sank as she registered Madame's words. She wrinkled her brow in confusion. "But...he'd been gone so long. I thought he left, and I had to save him, Madame! I never thought he would reappear while I was away! How could he think that I would leave him? I came back to him before, did I not?"

"Just trust me, my dear." said Madame gently, loosening her grip on Christine. That was a mistake, for the moment she was free, Christine continued running up the steps. She completely ignored the calls and warnings coming from behind her.

"How could they think he would hurt me?" she mumbled to herself. She rolled her eyes in fond annoyance, and continued the trek to her room, where she was sure her Angel awaited her.

When she reached her door, anticipation began to bubble within Christine's stomach. He was just beyond the threshold! He was there, alive and well, waiting for her. She loved him, and he loved her, and they would somehow find a way to be together.

The door was closed, and since it was her Angel, Christine decided to knock. She knew how protective he was of his privacy, and even if he was not doing anything important, she could be barging in on him while he was in thought. However, four knocks later, there came no reply. Christine knocked louder, hoping he would hear her urgency. He did not. Still it remained silent. Christine could wait no longer - she hastily and clumsily opened the door. She gasped at the sight before her.

There were shards of glass everywhere. Her golden mirror was completely broken; even the gild frame was bent. Her small table was cracked and torn to pieces, and the books and knick knacks that used to be on the shelves were broken upon the floor. The blanket on her bed was ripped and wrinkled, and the curtains were drawn. Only a single candle was lit, giving the room an eerie, unsettling feeling. These were not the details that caught Christine's attention, however.

Her Angel did not stand before her, but the Phantom of the Opera certainly did. His eyes were narrowed in a deadly manner, and his face was stony and frightening to behold. His stature was tall and erect, and his entire being radiated dangerousness.

Christine's eyes widened, and she took an unintentional step backwards. Her voice broke as she whispered, "A-Angel?"

If possible, the Phantom's eyes narrowed even further. As Christine stepped back he stepped forward, and leaned into her. The moment did not seem at all romantic or intimate. Christine felt adrenaline pump through her veins in fear.

His voice was crisp, and the sound of it made Christine think of swords piercing her heart. "I," he claimed. "-am no one's Angel."

"Please," begged Christine, tears pricking her eyes. "Please, do not be angry with me mon ange! I intended from the start to return - I only left because I was searching for you!"

The Phantom scoffed. "What Angel do you know with a face so hideous? Get out."

"Angel, please - "

"GET OUT!" the command was so harsh, Christine flinched. Even in his worst tempers, her Angel had never screamed at her with so much fervor. She stared into his eyes, noticing how black and lifeless they were. So different than the last time she'd seen them..."LEAVE THIS PLACE!" he continued to roar. "OR YOU SHALL REGRET IT!"

The Phantom took another step forward. Christine stepped back again, and her bare feet suddenly felt white hot with pain. As she looked down, breaking terrifying eye contact with the Phantom, she noticed the glass. Crimson was starting to mingle with the tiny reflective shards.

Christine hissed in pain, and felt the pieces of the mirror embedding themselves into the sole of her left foot. She quickly picked the foot up, and held it in her hands. Thanking her years of ballet training for the balance, Christine maintained hers on one foot.

The pain was intense, but Christine tried not to scream. She looked back up at the Phantom, pleading him with her eyes to help her. He looked down at her foot, and the moment he saw the blood, his eyes snapped out of their intense darkness. His gaze flickered between Christine and her foot, and his facial features softened considerably. Without a word, he swept Christine up in his arms, and laid her on the bed. He turned on his heel, and left the room.

Erik realized as he stood outside Christine's room that he was incredibly prone to overreaction.

It had been nearly a quarter of an hour - how long did Giry need to remove the glass from his Angel's foot? The thought of her pain, of the crimson stains upon the floor, sent pangs of guilt through Erik's entire body. It was his fault Christine had hurt herself. Not only had he frightened her into backing up more than she should have, he had broken the damn mirror in the first place. Why could he only hurt her?

Without warning, the door to Christine's room opened. Madame Giry stepped out with a glass bowl and towels in her hands. Erik stared at her ashamed, expecting to hear one of her accusations. The elder woman did not disappoint.

"How dare you?" she hissed angrily, her eyes darkening. Erik wondered if that was what he looked like when he was the Phantom. "You are a grown man, Erik! Yet you behave so foolishly when you're not given your way! It could have cost that girl her foot!"

"Giry -"

"I will hear none of your excuses." said Giry. She brushed past Erik with a huff, and went downstairs. Erik turned back to the door, and knew that he would have to face his Christine sooner rather than later. Taking a deep breath, not used to feeling such shame, he entered Christine's bedroom.

She was laying in her bed contentedly. She was propped against many pillows in a sitting position, keeping her left foot (which was wrapped) elevated. The moment she saw Erik, her face lit up and her smile brightened. She motioned for him to come in and sit beside her. Erik wondered if it was all a dream - he'd been the cause of her injury! Shouldn't he be begging for her forgiveness?

"I hoped you would come in." said Christine happily when her Angel at last was beside her. Erik must have had a blank look upon his face, for he could not ascertain Christine's intentions. "Please don't feel poorly about my foot," she continued. "It was my own fault for coming in without your permission. Besides, it will be fine. No harm done."

"C-Christine," stuttered Erik. What was he to say to such nonsense?

"Not a word." said Christine, reaching her hand out to her Angel. Hesitant though he was, he took her offer and grasped her tiny hand firmly. The moment he did, he felt more at peace than he had in a long time. Christine's eyes fluttered closed, and she relaxed into the blankets. She murmured, "Sing for me."

So he did. Erik would do anything for Christine. He sang softly and gently to her, lulling her into a dreamless sleep. He did not know what the next day would bring, but he knew it would bring Christine. And as long as his Angel was with him, things could never be horrid...could they?

"I do not care if she disappeared, André! Find her now!"

"Yes, Monsieur le Vicomte! Right away, dear patron! Monsieur Firmin and I will find our best men to put to the task, I assure you. Do you require anything else, sir?"

"That monster's horrendous face on a platter would be splendid, thank you."

"Monsieur?"

"Do you not understand anything, Monsieur André?"

"Monsieur le Vicomte, I-"

"Christine went back to return that hideous creature's ring to him, and she never returned. He abducted her, and she is your star, sir. As well as my fiancée."

"Of course, Monsieur."

"I will not rest until she is safely in my arms once more, sir. That I can very well promise."

I know it got kind of fluffy between E/C there, and I was really excited about writing some romance at last! But if Erik and Christine no longer have the center conflict between themselves, I fear it was...neccessary to bring the Vicomte back -_- (that is my unamused face). So I hope you liked the chapter, and don't forget to review! Chapter 6 will be comin' your way soon :) Thanks guys!

Also...just watched the 1989 version of Phantom...so incredibly creeped out right now O.O