Hello!

I've promised you a new story, haven't I? Well, here it is. It's not going to be too long, and I've got parts of it written already, so I promise it won't take me a year to finish this one!

A completely different thing this time: starts quite angsty but I do hope you'll bear with me. It'll have been worth it in the end, I hope — you know I cannot not do delicious Erik/Christine fluff. :)

So, here we go, enjoy!

Short summary: ALW!Phantom verse, Erik kidnaps Christine after Don Juan's premiere, and Raoul is too late to join them. She agrees to become his bride, but he lets her go nonetheless. And she's grateful and relieved, and then, suddenly, she's not.

A bratty, manipulated by Raoul Christine, who learns things about herself and grows strong in the process.

And, also, a certain cat.

Prologue.

"I will stay with you," Christine whispers, falling down to her knees.

She hates it. She hates everything and everyone at this very moment – him, Raoul, herself, this whole situation, the absolute lack of a good solution, one that wouldn't hurt people around her.

She's so young. Naive. Inexperienced.

She needs her Papa.

She's not strong enough to survive it.

And now he's looking at her, wide-eyed, his mouth slightly open.

Christine still has trouble not wincing every time she looks at his face. It's ugly, bloated, twisted, and makes him look even more horrifying when he's lashing out at her – as if his fury alone wasn't terrifying enough.

"What did you just say to me?"

"I said I would stay with you. I will. I will become your bride," she repeats, eyes downcast.

"I, ah," he clears his throat, "seem not to have thought that through."

Christine laughs bitterly. She cannot help it, really, because god damn it, has he ever been more right in his life?

"You haven't, have you?" she asks.

"I was so certain you'd say no, I knew how this would end. I would have to kill Raoul," he explains, words leaving his mouth quickly. "You'd mourn him, never speak to me again, but at least he would cease to be a problem. I did not expect you to agree."

"Well, I do. Whatever shall you do to me now? In this sick, evil plan of yours: should I kiss you in order to seal the deal to some extent, and then, what? Should I just go to my room here and strip so that you can make me officially yours?"

She smiles widely when he flinches.

He's not the only one who enjoys inflicting pain upon other people, it would seem.

"I would... I would never force myself upon you, Christine," he says quietly. She almost feels bad now; he looks mortified at this very thought, not quite believing she could think him so low. How can she not, though? When he's taking everything away from her? Her life, her future, her career, her freedom?

Still, she almost feels bad.

Almost.

"You hate me," he says at last. It's not a question. He's calmly stating facts.

Christine blinks and clenches her teeth. Then, she stands up, gathering the skirts of her damn wedding dress in her hands, and looks him right in his eye.

"I despise you," she agrees. "I regret ever having met you. I regret our every lesson, I regret every minute I have spent with you. I wish you had never appeared in my life. I wish I had never had my Angel of Music."

He turns around, gasping for breath, as if her words were too much for him to bear.

He deserves it, though, does it not? He kidnapped her, forced her to give up her life in order to save Raoul, made her promise him forever.

Forever with this beast.

This murderer.

This freak of nature.

"Go."

Christine stops dead in her tracks when she hears him.

He can't have just–

"I said, go!" he growls, turning to her again. "Fucking leave this place and never come back. It will be exactly how you want it to be – as if I have never existed. Go, and leave me here alone. You will never see me again. Go, Christine. Don't make me change my mind, my dear! The monster's bed awaits!"

The last sentence is all that Christine needs; it is what snaps her out of her stupor.

She's going to take this chance, seeing as there may never be one ever again.

And she shall not share her bed with this thing.

"I hope you rot in here," she sneers, turning on her heel and bolting as fast as she can, leaving his house behind. She's frantically trying to think of a way out; seeing as she only knows the main corridor, Christine has no idea how to get back to the Opera.

"Christine?" She hears when she's on the verge of crying – she's afraid he will, indeed, change his mind and come for her after all. She's afraid of being here, in these dark catacombs, all alone. She's afraid she will be the one to die.

The voice is her salvation, though.

Dear, sweet Raoul.

She's safe.

It's over.

She is free.