The Night Will Only Know

The Beginning of a Calamity

Erik's POV

Even in sleep, I could still sense something was wrong. I didn't sit up or even open my eyes, but I knew something was terribly wrong. I inhaled sharply when I felt warm, alive fingers brushing the left half of my face. My unmasked face. 

Horror laced through my blood, the fingers had stilled when I inhaled, but now they continued their gentle path. Dwelling on the curve of my cheekbone before sliding down over my lips and leaving my face entirely. I heard the sound of porcelain being set down on the dock. A few light steps followed before I dared to open my eyes. 

Christine stood a few feet away, on the first stair, running a hand through long tousled hair. I silently shifted myself so I could see the ceiling. The tears fell down the sides of my face, the tears of my deformed side, struggled to trek their way down.

"Why?" I choked out, placing my hand over my face to shield it from view. "Why did you want to see?" She turned to me, her eyes softening.

"In the darkness, Erik, you can hide from others, but please, do not hide yourself from me." She stepped closer to where I stood crestfallen on the dock. 

"Is it what you wanted to see?" I said, my voice filling with bitterness, "Did you expect to find an unscarred man? Did you wish to be like Delilah? Or Pandora? Did you want to see-" My voice broke, "Did you want to see this?"

"Yes. I told you before, beauty is not measured by our looks, but by the good in our souls. Your haunted face is not horrifying to me. Why do you not believe me when I said that you are beautiful and that I am not scared of you?"

"I was protecting you." I said, the emotion thick in my voice, my bitterness falling away.

"What are you trying to protect me from?" Her voice soft and step light as she came closer. She stood a foot or two away. The only thing between us was a mask, that was laid carefully on the dock between us.

"Myself." I said, "I am a monster Christine, I don't know how to be anything but a monster. I have become the gargoyle I have so desperately tried to escape from in vain." I let out a bitter laugh,

"Why do you do that to yourself?" Christine asked, slowly picking up my mask, "Why do you act so cruel to yourself down when the world has already been so malicious?" She handed me my mask, I turned from her and slid it in place.

"It's all I have ever been Christine, a monster. That's all I will ever be. No reason in hoping for more than that." Her hand found my shoulder and turned me around. I looked down into her blue eyes that suddenly turned hard and stubborn.

"Do NOT do that to yourself, Erik. You are not a monster. You are the Angel of Music, the Phantom of the Opera, the Opera Ghost, a genius, a protector, a silent guardian, a friend and...and... and...." She looked away, a blush creeping up her neck.

"And?"

"Mon amour." And thus began the downfall and doom of our cursed, intertwined souls.

_____________________

Antoinette's POV

I paced, a growing stone of worry in my stomach. I couldn't get Erik out of it this time. How could I explain the mysterious disappearance of Paris's new, heart-captivating starlet? The Vicomte had returned late this morning, looking weary under his pristine suit. I had convinced him last night that Christine was ill, and her voice was a bit strained. He accepted my story that the voice in her room was a private physician.

He inquired of her all morning, as did the managers. I told them all the same thing. I spoke to Christine last night when she was ill and gave her the day off, telling them that it was Sunday today and she wanted to rest alone.  We didn't have a performance tonight, so a day of rest wouldn't hurt. My story went unchallenged, but for how long I didn't know.