My Roman Empire will forever be Christine and Erik performing together, on stage.
Look, Christine has sung with her maestro before, okay? In practice, in their music lessons, in just the simple pleasure of singing and making music together.
But.
She wants Erik to be on stage with her. She wants everyone to see what she sees, past the mask and the mangled ruin of his face, gods, if she could, she would take his lasso and throttle the woman who had first made him hate himself so much. Her Erik deserves the world at his feet and so much more.
Even now, she treasures the tender look in his eyes when she calls him hers, and the swift press of his lips to the palm of her hand, sending that familiar and welcome thrill down her spine.
The stage of the Opera Populaire is empty save for the two of them, the seats below covered in cloth, awaiting the next performance.
"Sing with me, Erik, please?" She asks, letting mischief take hold of her.
"What, right here, right now?" There's amusement in his tone and Christine knows she has him. Just a little bit more...
"Yes! For what is La Daae without her leading man, her other half? She refuses to sing without him!" It's her best impression of La Carlotta which never fails to make Erik laugh, that adorable chortle that turns her Phantom back into the endearing little boy he should have been.
"As my diva commands, then."
Their voices soar in joyful harmony then, lost in each other, an enchanted little world of their own making.
It is a masterful performance they think is unwitnessed by anyone else.
Except for a couple of stagehands transfixed by the sight of Monsieur le Fantome and his lady, utterly enthralled by their song.
And one Raoul de Chagny, whose heart shatters into pieces.
