Christine yawned and stretched her arms up over her head. 'Yesterday sure was....' She thought taking a moment to think of a word to best fit. 'Chaotic.' She stumbled out of bed lighting the candles so she could see. To her shock she found her Angel's mask on the floor. Maybe he left in here by accident. But how? The last thing she recalled from yesterday was climbing into bed and having her Angel sing her softly to sleep. She then touched her forehead. 'Did he kiss me?' She question as she fiddled with the mask in her other hand.

She wanted to get dressed but today was the start of the weekend. Which meant rehearsal practice for the Masquerade party. Or maybe she would decide to sleep the day away. That was a nice thought but her Angel would never allow it. "Angel.." She said carefully caressing the mask as if it was a priceless artifact. She laid the mask down on the bed. She didn't want to part from it. But it wasn't hers to keep.

She open her wardrobe door. She didn't have as many clothes as the other girls just manly a few dresses to get her by and a couple practice ballerina outfits. Nothing too fancy of course she couldn't really afford it. She shifted threw her few dresses to fine one she didn't recognize. Blue. As blue as the heavenly blue morning glories that wrapped around the gazebo in the middle of the courtyard. Maybe someone put it into her room by mistake.

Temptation was telling her to try it on. It was her size after all. She like the way it felt when she held it in her hands. Would her conscious let her do such a forbidden act? The girl who this was for was probably missing it. Just to try on such an elaborate bordered gown was unthinkable yet it kept crossing her mind.

"Do you not like the dress?" a voice question. She looked around not seeing the man she knew the voice belong to. "Angel... such a gown.." She felt undeserving of such kindness and it was evident in her voice. "A beauty for a beauty." He stated believing everything that exited his mouth. She took the dress and headed behind her divider. Realizing that her Angel was on the physical plan made her flustered. Could he see her behind that mirror? He was an Angel he wouldn't have such deserves, would he?

The opera ghost stood on the other side of the mirror looking. He found himself cursing that divider. The divider was both a blessing and a curse. If it wasn't there what would stop him from drinking up her inneconence with his eyes, his devilish deceiving eyes. He wanted badly to walk into her room and swoon her until she gave in. 'I shouldn't have these thoughts. These terrible thoughts that both my body and soul crave. Condemn them! Condemn them!'  He clenched his fist to the interior battle that he was doomed to lose.

Christine stepped out from her divider. She a was sight to take any man's breath away. She gently pick up the mask and stared into the mirror. She seemed silently asking her Angel of Music to appear. The mask. He gazed at the mask in unvented hatred. That mask has caused him a list of many emotions, pity, greif, spite, but above all was hatred. No matter how he felt about that particular mask it was ironically his favorite.

He emerged from the shadows once again for his darling prodigy. She looked at him as if he was a stranger. He was not of course but the black mask he wore threw her off. The new mask covered most of his face but below the top part of his lips he remain bare.

"Angel?" she questioned handing him his other mask. Words escaping her mind as looked at him. She did not like this new mask. To her this new mask hid him even more from her. "I am your Angel of music..." He sang all so softly but all so seductively. She felt powerless once again. Powerless just how her Angel felt the night before as Christine cleaned his bloodstained hand as if she was trying to wash his sins away.  "My masks do not make me.."

"My Angel of music, they hide you, and diene you." She sang back as if she wanted her voice to be carried off to the rest of the world. "I am your Angel of music, your Angel of music....nothing less nothing more." His last four words felt as if he had just stabbed himself directly in the heart.

Someone knocked on the door ruining their bonding moment. Christine hurriedly grabbed her Angel's hand. Not wanting him to leave her but sometimes if you love something, you have to let it go. "Christine? Is someone in there with you?" Raoul asked worriedly.

He had planned to take Christine out on a date. Nothing too fancy. Something that would make her childhood romane dreams spark into reality like what he did the day before. Courting her was going to be a greater challenge if she already had a suitor. "No, Raoul." She replied selfishly keeping her Angel a secret.

"Christine, I must go." Her angel said as he grabbed the mask from her and slipped back into his hidden passage. Christine refused to believe that her Angel was the widely feared Opera Ghost that lurked in the underground passageways. To takeaway her belief in magic was to steal a piece of the child that she still remained. She reluctantly came to answer the Vicounte who stood patiently with a bouquet of red roses.

"Red?" she questioned when she saw the excellent display. Red. A color of passion, romance, desire not yellow the color of friendship. "Do you not like the roses?" Raoul replied not knowing what else to say to her reaction. "I love them." She said reassuring her pouting Raoul. She giggled at his cute gesture. She put the roses on the dresser in room. Hoping when she came back they'd still be alive so she could put them in a vase. She closed her door and then proceeded to latch onto Raoul's arm.

When the door shut. The Opera Ghost felt as if she shut the door on him. Shutting him out of her life. A thought almost too painful to think about. Yet, it was possible. She was becoming a young woman much to his protest. If she wanted to throw herself at her Vicounte then he be damned. She was too precious to be another floozy on his ongoing list.

He knew someone as terrifying as himself didn't deserve her either. She was a exoctic bird that neither be tamed or spoken to. A bird of melodies that only worthy ears must hear. Himself? A cat doomed to destroy the very beauty he stalked. He lusted after. But for her to court a measly snake? That would fool her with his beauty and curl around her until she was a lifeless shell of what used to be. To dim a light before it shines like the sun.

"Christine." he called as he walked into the depths of despair. Which he consider his cage. Monsters belong in a cage. Away from humanity. Away from the sun. Away from beauty for fear he might corrupt it with his vulgar features. Laughter nor joy present in his kingdom of darkness. Any emotion even jealousy was too good for such a creature. Such a madman.