She turned to see Raoul standing in the doorway, a worried expression on his handsome face. She sighed. She truly did not wish to discuss anything with him but knew that he was only trying to help her in any way that he knew how.
"Yes, Raoul?" she whispered, not leaving Erik's side.
"Might I speak to you alone?" he wondered. She nodded. Christine glanced at Erik once more before reluctantly getting up to follow Raoul out of the room. He led her to the room that he was sharing with Anthony while they stayed at the inn and she was glad her brother was not around. She was sure whatever Raoul wanted to talk to her about was something only the two of them should hear. He set her down on the bed and sat next to her. He was quiet for quite some time, gathering his thoughts. Christine let him think, hoping that whatever he had to say would not change their relationship in any way.
"Christine, I know it is my fault that Erik is only getting worse and I am sorry," he said very softly. She turned to look at him in surprise, having not expected him to apologize for the argument.
"That is alright, Raoul. Erik is a strong man, I am sure he is going to be fine," she said, needing to believe it herself. Raoul said nothing for a moment.
"You must understand why I am here," he whispered brokenly. Christine swallowed, knowing that one of their hearts was going to be broken.
"Why is that, Raoul?" Christine asked, not wanting to make any assumptions. He turned to her and took her hands in his. Christine swallowed when he slowly brought his gaze to hers. She could see his feelings for her in his eyes and she almost looked away.
"I know I have no right saying this now...but I love you, Christine," he whispered. Christine closed her eyes and turned away.
"I had always hoped that perhaps you would be able to feel the same," he whispered, his voice sounding hurt and alone.
"Raoul, I am a married woman," Christine said gently. Raoul's eyes flashed and his hands tightened.
"You do not love him," he said, knowing it to be true. Christine did not argue. She did not love Erik, but she felt something for him.
"I know. But perhaps in time I will," she said. Raoul looked away, staring out the window across from him. He had so many thoughts whirling in his mind and there was a great pain in his heart.
"Do you believe in soul mates, Christine?" he asked. Christine nodded slowly, afraid she knew where this was going.
"Then how do you know that you are not mine? How will we ever know? What if there is a woman out there waiting for Erik?" he asked. Christine's mind was filled with images of Natasha and she did not like it. Raoul was right in a sense. How would she know that they were not meant to be if they had never given themselves a chance.
"What do you think you would feel if you were touched by your soul mate?" Christine asked. Raoul thought about if for a moment, knowing his answer might decide what would happen that night.
"Like no one else could ever do. As if they knew you better then anyone ever would, they'd make you feel desires unlike anyone ever had before," Raoul said. Christine knew those feelings. She had them whenever Erik kissed her or touched her. Did that mean they were soul mates? Perhaps Raoul was her soul mate and she simply needed to have that feeling to know it for certain. Perhaps if she kissed him she would be able to see if there was any feelings between them or if they were simply better off being friends.
"Raoul," Christine whispered. He turned to her, surprised slightly by the tone of her voice. She looked beautiful to him, her wild curls framing her face. Lush, red lips were slightly parted, nearly begging him to kiss her. But he would not do anything that would make Christine uncomfortable. Perhaps that was why he was so surprised when Christine leaned forward and kissed him.
xXx
She spoke of angels. Angels who would be able to give her everything she could ever need. He was no angel. Perhaps it would have been more fitting to hear her sing of demons. That was what she had tied herself to. A demon with the shortest temper and the blackest moods.
He had heard that heavenly voice before, but from a totally different woman. A woman who had taken him in when no one else had wanted him. His guardian angel. His beloved Emma. He had softly called her name because he wished she would forgive him for all the sins he had ever committed. She was in his dreams often, telling him that his lifestyle was going to end up leaving him alone and loveless in life. Something he did not want.