Post by Angel on Nov 26, 2005 10:50:54 GMT -5
Well, this was a little plot bunny racing around my head ... here's the result. Hope you like! 
Wedding Day
I took another short sip from my glass of champagne before excusing myself from the group of bridesmaids and moving across the room. I couldn't stand not being with him for another minute. Weaving in and out of wedding guests, smiling pleasantly at well-wishers, I walked over to Raoul.
He looked so handsome. He always does, I reminded myself, fondly. But there was something even more dashing about him today; his face was positively glowing with happiness, only enhancing his already attractive features.
"Meg!"
My heart fluttered madly as he saw me approaching and smiled. It didn't matter how many times I saw him, every glance, every wave, every embrace was enough to make me weak at the knees. What girl wouldn't die for such a man? To be honest, living my life in a dormitory full of promiscuous ballet tarts had made me dubious about whether true love was real, or only a fantasy, but I had realised I was wrong. I loved Raoul dearly, with all my heart and nothing – nothing – could ever take that feeling away.
Self-consciously, I smoothed my hair and smiled nervously back. I had known this man for so long, but never really considered myself worthy of him. I still remembered the day I first saw him – that day at rehearsals. In my mind, I could still see him walking across the stage, his hair framing his handsome face just so and hear him addressing the opera house. I had been star-struck. I had never really believed that he would choose me, a lowly dancer, but that had not stopped me from lying awake at night, my imagination running away with me. It had not stopped me from whispering my name joined with his when nobody could hear me – Vicomtesse Marguerite de Chagny. It had not stopped me from longing for the day when I could kiss him, and have him hold me close whenever I wished. And now ...
"You look so beautiful, Meg," Raoul said, kissing my cheek and pulling me into a quick embrace. I felt like I could stay forever.
"Nothing is too good for you," I replied.
"You know you don't need to impress me."
"What if I want to?"
He laughed. "Well, I suppose I can't stop you, then. It's not as if I have any objections in the first place."
I blushed, looking down at my feet. Whenever I knew that Raoul would be at rehearsals, I would get up early and fuss around with my hair, wishing it were curly like Christine's, and pinch my cheeks to make them red. I would put all my effort into executing the dance perfectly, hoping that he would notice. It had been the same today – I had primped and preened for hours for him, although for once I knew that he would notice me. The service had been beautiful. I remembered standing at the front of the church and near staring into Raoul's face as he said, "I do." A torrent of wild emotions had flooded over me, and the flood was still flowing strongly.
"I believe today has been perfect," he sighed. "I am so happy, Meg."
With that, he hugged me again, and the flood raged once more. I looked up into his beaming face, and couldn't help smiling myself. The man I love is happy! Happy with a little opera girl!
Whenever I hoped that Raoul would love me, I had thought it false hope – after all, he had been courting my best friend. Nobody in their right mind would turn Christine down, but I had tortured myself clinging to illusions. I would inwardly rejoice when I felt his eyes linger on me, and cry myself to sleep when he only saw Christine. But I had not counted on her mysterious disappearances. I had not counted on her confessing to me that she felt a strange attraction to a mysterious man living beneath the opera house – the notorious Phantom. And I had not counted on Raoul turning to me, asking me about her. I had told him what I believed was true – that the Phantom of the Opera was in love with her. I hated myself when I saw his distress, but I told myself he would put it behind him and move on. Today was proof. My conscience was clear.
"It's good to forget the past, isn't it?" I commented, wondering when he would ask me to dance.
The smile disappeared. "Meg, don't. I don't even want to think about what happened."
"No, of course not!" I replied, quickly, wishing I could kick myself for bringing up the topic. "I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it."
I sighed, and looked around the room, smiling wickedly as I noticed more than one young girl looking enviously in my direction. Too late, I thought, smugly. He's mine, now.
The reception was beautiful. I had insisted on being as involved as I could, and Raoul had good-naturedly asked for my opinion on a variety of menus and decorations. Christine, in her usual interfering way, had flitted around in the background, occasionally showing me a sample of material I might like for my dress, or asking me how she should wear her hair. But however it had come about, the entire wedding day seemed perfect. I looked up at my love again.
"You're a wonderful man."
"You flatter me, Meg," he said, eyes laughing.
"Not at all," I replied. "I wouldn't dream of such a thing."
"Make sure you don't. You wouldn't want me to get a big head now, would you?"
"You? Never." I meant it. Raoul was the complete antithesis of self-centredness.
The music changed. I began humming under my breath and tapping my foot in time to the one-two-three waltz beat. Raoul looked at me, smiling.
"Always the dancer, aren't you?"
I nodded, stopped tapping, and caught his eye. I couldn't wait for him to ask me to dance with him, to feel his strong arms hold me tight and to completely lose myself in the moment.
"Meg!"
My guilty fantasy was interrupted as Christine rushed over to us. I could feel my face reddening as she breathlessly embraced me, and then turned to Raoul.
"You don't mind, do you, Meg?" she asked.
I shook my head and watched as Christine kissed my love softly on the lips. I watched my best friend take Raoul's hand and lead him to the centre of the dance floor.
I watched Christine dance with her new husband.
~Fin~
Wedding Day
I took another short sip from my glass of champagne before excusing myself from the group of bridesmaids and moving across the room. I couldn't stand not being with him for another minute. Weaving in and out of wedding guests, smiling pleasantly at well-wishers, I walked over to Raoul.
He looked so handsome. He always does, I reminded myself, fondly. But there was something even more dashing about him today; his face was positively glowing with happiness, only enhancing his already attractive features.
"Meg!"
My heart fluttered madly as he saw me approaching and smiled. It didn't matter how many times I saw him, every glance, every wave, every embrace was enough to make me weak at the knees. What girl wouldn't die for such a man? To be honest, living my life in a dormitory full of promiscuous ballet tarts had made me dubious about whether true love was real, or only a fantasy, but I had realised I was wrong. I loved Raoul dearly, with all my heart and nothing – nothing – could ever take that feeling away.
Self-consciously, I smoothed my hair and smiled nervously back. I had known this man for so long, but never really considered myself worthy of him. I still remembered the day I first saw him – that day at rehearsals. In my mind, I could still see him walking across the stage, his hair framing his handsome face just so and hear him addressing the opera house. I had been star-struck. I had never really believed that he would choose me, a lowly dancer, but that had not stopped me from lying awake at night, my imagination running away with me. It had not stopped me from whispering my name joined with his when nobody could hear me – Vicomtesse Marguerite de Chagny. It had not stopped me from longing for the day when I could kiss him, and have him hold me close whenever I wished. And now ...
"You look so beautiful, Meg," Raoul said, kissing my cheek and pulling me into a quick embrace. I felt like I could stay forever.
"Nothing is too good for you," I replied.
"You know you don't need to impress me."
"What if I want to?"
He laughed. "Well, I suppose I can't stop you, then. It's not as if I have any objections in the first place."
I blushed, looking down at my feet. Whenever I knew that Raoul would be at rehearsals, I would get up early and fuss around with my hair, wishing it were curly like Christine's, and pinch my cheeks to make them red. I would put all my effort into executing the dance perfectly, hoping that he would notice. It had been the same today – I had primped and preened for hours for him, although for once I knew that he would notice me. The service had been beautiful. I remembered standing at the front of the church and near staring into Raoul's face as he said, "I do." A torrent of wild emotions had flooded over me, and the flood was still flowing strongly.
"I believe today has been perfect," he sighed. "I am so happy, Meg."
With that, he hugged me again, and the flood raged once more. I looked up into his beaming face, and couldn't help smiling myself. The man I love is happy! Happy with a little opera girl!
Whenever I hoped that Raoul would love me, I had thought it false hope – after all, he had been courting my best friend. Nobody in their right mind would turn Christine down, but I had tortured myself clinging to illusions. I would inwardly rejoice when I felt his eyes linger on me, and cry myself to sleep when he only saw Christine. But I had not counted on her mysterious disappearances. I had not counted on her confessing to me that she felt a strange attraction to a mysterious man living beneath the opera house – the notorious Phantom. And I had not counted on Raoul turning to me, asking me about her. I had told him what I believed was true – that the Phantom of the Opera was in love with her. I hated myself when I saw his distress, but I told myself he would put it behind him and move on. Today was proof. My conscience was clear.
"It's good to forget the past, isn't it?" I commented, wondering when he would ask me to dance.
The smile disappeared. "Meg, don't. I don't even want to think about what happened."
"No, of course not!" I replied, quickly, wishing I could kick myself for bringing up the topic. "I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it."
I sighed, and looked around the room, smiling wickedly as I noticed more than one young girl looking enviously in my direction. Too late, I thought, smugly. He's mine, now.
The reception was beautiful. I had insisted on being as involved as I could, and Raoul had good-naturedly asked for my opinion on a variety of menus and decorations. Christine, in her usual interfering way, had flitted around in the background, occasionally showing me a sample of material I might like for my dress, or asking me how she should wear her hair. But however it had come about, the entire wedding day seemed perfect. I looked up at my love again.
"You're a wonderful man."
"You flatter me, Meg," he said, eyes laughing.
"Not at all," I replied. "I wouldn't dream of such a thing."
"Make sure you don't. You wouldn't want me to get a big head now, would you?"
"You? Never." I meant it. Raoul was the complete antithesis of self-centredness.
The music changed. I began humming under my breath and tapping my foot in time to the one-two-three waltz beat. Raoul looked at me, smiling.
"Always the dancer, aren't you?"
I nodded, stopped tapping, and caught his eye. I couldn't wait for him to ask me to dance with him, to feel his strong arms hold me tight and to completely lose myself in the moment.
"Meg!"
My guilty fantasy was interrupted as Christine rushed over to us. I could feel my face reddening as she breathlessly embraced me, and then turned to Raoul.
"You don't mind, do you, Meg?" she asked.
I shook my head and watched as Christine kissed my love softly on the lips. I watched my best friend take Raoul's hand and lead him to the centre of the dance floor.
I watched Christine dance with her new husband.
~Fin~
