An Angel's Kiss....

Christine reached up with gentle fingers and untied the cords of the mask, lifting it slowly from his face as he drew in a sobbing breath.

She gazed up into his dark, pleading eyes - those fathomless mirrors of his soul that yearned for her understanding, for just one small sign that she cared about him. Slow, painful tears began to fill those eyes and trickle down his face. Her heart twisted with compassion at sight of his anguish. Softly she spoke his name.

Erik ...

She raised her hand and laid it gently against his malformed cheek.

He quivered at her touch.

Christine, at that tremulous moment of contact, became aware that the profound pity she had felt for his suffering in these past months of their strange relationship was replaced almost instantaneously by an emotion that was far more powerful than mere sympathy. A feeling of joyous elation began to fill her mind and lift her spirits, a sweet tenderness such as she had never known before.

On the night she had sung the part of Marguerite in Gounod's Faust for her Angel of Music, she had told his unseen presence after the performance that she had given him her soul, for she sang only for him. Now, knowing him as she did, this man who had inspired her voice and taught her to sing like an angel, she stood before him and at last understood the deepest feelings of her heart. With her hand warm against his flawed, beloved face, all confusion and fear melted away like ice in the sunshine.

She knew that she loved him - loved him passionately with every fibre of her being - and always had.

Something caught fire within her and the radiance that shone from her lovely little face made him catch his breath in wonder. This vibrant knowledge of love lit her blue eyes to a sapphire brilliance as she smiled at him.

Erik was still unable to prevent his tears as he raised a hesitant hand towards her, then let it fall, half-fearing that the delicate shell of this moment would shatter into the thousand tiny fragments of his hopeless dreams. Sensing his despair, she caught his hand in hers and kissed his fingers.

"Oh Christine" he whispered brokenly, "Oh, my little one, if only I were free of this accursed face".

Again she smiled, but this time through the mist of tears shimmering in her own eyes.

"Erik" she said softly, "you are the most extraordinarily beautiful man I have ever known".

She caressed away his fears and distress with loving fingers upon his face.

"No more tears, my Angel. Only joy. I love you so very much".

Drawing his head down to hers, she looked into his eyes - twin ovals of darkness that held all the mysteries of the universe, but saw only her loveliness. She raised her mouth to his.

Their lips met in a long, beautiful, searingly honest kiss.

A kiss that ended forever the agony of his lonely years of solitude.

A kiss that sent all the stars in the heavens tumbling in rainbow colours around their feet.

A kiss which proved their love was that of the most exquisite kind, a love which can overcome all pain and tragedy, all grief and sorrow, all misunderstandings and human frailties, and bring two people together to make one perfect entity.

A kiss which sealed their fate forever and a day.

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And thus it was that moment when the Angel and her Phantom passed into living legend for all time ... and the great Opéra House in Paris holds them together in eternal devotion, close and ever closer to its mighty heart.

©Jeanette Birt 2002