Christine

Again, I slept alone, and again woke to Erik's playing.

I sighed.

Would I have to ask him to sleep next to me again? How he would make me blush if I did. But I was so lonely...And I kept having nightmares of dark, swirling figures, surrounding me, chasing me. I knew that Erik's presence; even if he and I didn't snuggle, would banish my nightmares. Though I did so love it when we snuggled.......

I pushed off the bed, sighing and tucking my hair behind my ears. I put my wrapper on, and padded into the hallway, pondering at the absence of Erik's playing.

In the kitchen, I found Erik cooking something; and I felt a rush of warmth, seeing him standing there, cooking for us. He truly cared for me......... "Christine, if you are not too busy, would you mind setting the table?" He asked, not turning around. I felt my face flush crimson—so he knew I was there the whole time....!

"Of course. Shall I put the kettle on for tea, too?" I asked, moving around him so I could get the silverware and plates. "If you wish..." Was his soft reply.

I reached around him, grabbing the kettle out of the cabinet, filling it with water, and placing it on the burner beside the pan Erik was cooking omelettes in. I sniffed appreciatively, "What is in these lovely things that make them smell so wonderful?" Erik grinned lopsidedly at me, "That would be telling, my dear. It's my secret, love." He kissed the tip of my nose. I blushed, and he grinned again, before turning back to the omelettes. I got out the plates and silverware, setting them on the table.

Then, I got out the sugar and cream, setting them on the table, too. "Christine, I insist you sit down! Let me serve you breakfast, yes?" Erik called from the kitchen. I rolled my eyes and sighed, but obliged. He'd wait on me hand and foot if I let him! Erik came out of the kitchen, holding the pan with the omelettes in one mittened hand, and the water-filled kettle in the other. He poured the boiling water in the teapot; placing my omelette on my plate, before sliding his onto his plate. Then my Angel sat down.

I grinned at him, "So........Your Opera is playing in all but three days, if you count the break we have today. Are you excited?"

We got a break today, before a ten-hour-final-rehearsal tomorrow, and a three-hour-before-the-play one—just to make sure everyone was prepared and ready. Erik's eyes filled with excitement, "Of course, Christine! How could I not be? This is my baby, my child, come into the limelight! My work shall play for all to hear!"

I smiled at him, "And do you find the cast acceptable?" "Only the Aminta is played perfectly....And mayhaps a few other small roles are played almost well... Don Juan does not have the life, the vigour, the........Well; the passionate, amorous, sensual nature that Don Juan's role demands." I sighed, "You are a writer, indeed." "Perhaps. But I wish to see my character played accurately, and properly. Piangi does not do the part justice! He is too mellow a man, I think. Don Juan must be seductive, sultry, dashing, debonaire, suave! His presence must exude a-a confidence, a knowledge of self. He must make women's heart pang, and men sigh with envy! And yet, he must also have this-this evil presence....Which comes from the-the........Well, the character he is.........All his flaws and the malformations of his mind...........And yet he is irresistible to all, especially women, and the women he seduces; despite his, er, flaws..." "Oh, is that all?" I teased, taking a bite of omelette, "And who, pray, tell, could pull such a heavy role off?" I thought I knew which answer he would give. "I, of course."

I grinned, "I knew you would say that!" Erik pulled himself up higher, "So? So I hold my character's personality close enough to my own that I know I could pull off playing him. Is that so wrong?" I laughed, "You think you are, simply put; evil, but a heartthrob?" His confident face slipped, "Well, not exactly, ........But I can pretend to be."

I raised my eyebrow, "Indeed?" He shrugged, "I play Don Juan with you, do I not?" "Yes, you do." I admitted. He grinned, "Do you think I am evil, and a heartthrob, when I play Don Juan?" I blushed, looking down at my empty plate, "You play a heartbreakingly evil heartthrob well...." I could not admit that I thought he was a 'heartthrob' when he wasn't playing Don Juan, too. He grinned, "I admit, I have made his character all too well." I raised an eyebrow, "How so?" "Well, I know a bit about people, men's and women's, characters. I know how to create characters which are not—nor will ever be—cardboard. I know how to play upon people's emotions, and fantasies." I smiled at him, "Indeed......But I have an even more important question: Do you like your character?" He laughed, "Hell no. He is a horrible person; and wicked, evil, too. I loath his character, and all that he stands for. Look at me; I am no handsome heartthrob, as you put it. He is, my Don Juan. And he squanders his gift, his ability to walk freely, and be admired by others. He uses it for ill—to ruin the women he finds, to add them to his list of conquests....I abhor all that he is, and all that he stands for." I smiled at him again, "That is a completely understandable opinion, and one I applaud." Erik grinned, taking my hand, "And yet, I know his character, his type are liked." "How so?" I asked. He grinned again, "No one—no woman or man—can ever resist a bad boy—or bad girl. The girls find themselves drawn to him, though he may likely ruin them. And the men think he is astounding, though evil he is—they wish they had that type of charm and luck with women. They are drawn irrevocable to the evil. It's always been that way, no?" I looked down at my empty plate. "I agree with you......." I muttered—how true his words were......

He said nothing; and when I looked up, I caught a faraway look in his eyes———deep, swirling things lit his eyes, some dark emotion....

Then he fixed his luminous eyes on me, "Shall we have our tea?"

I nodded, reaching out for the teapot. Erik's ungloved hand reached it first, "No, dear. Today it is my turn to pour tea." I laughed, "You've had too many turns! You're always looking after me!" He pretended to be offended, "I have not!" I grinned, "You have too!" He shook his head, "No." I nodded vigorously. He shook his head, sighing, "It is simply what you deserve..." I rolled my eyes as he poured our tea.

I blew on the cup, waiting for it to reach the perfect temperature, the warmer-than-lukewarm-but-not-too-hot that I loved best. Erik had no qualms with drinking very hot tea; but he waited, out of politeness, a gesture made for me. I sensed that before I lived with him, he had lived very differently.

"Erik....Will you sleep next to me tonight?" He looked up from staring at his teacup, an eyebrow quirked upwards. "You want me to sleep next to you?" I didn't let myself become embarrassed, "Yes, Erik..............You see, I've been having nightmares again......" His hand was holding mine instantly, "What sort of nightmares?" I let myself become soothed by his tremulous voice.

"Well, the other day it was a dark night, and you surrounded by swirling darkness, and then you disappearing, and me becoming enveloped in darkness. Last night, dark shapes were chasing me..." I confessed.

"Remnants of your ordeal with Joseph Buquet, I would suspect." I looked up, shocked, "You think? I have not thought about him since...." I trailed, thinking.....

"I cannot remember the last time I thought of him! Oh, but I think you're right.....Truly, I knew there were men like that out there........But, well, I didn't know they were so close.....So, so.......there, so prevalent in society...." I hung my head, and sipped from my tea. "The fallen, and disturbed are everywhere, love.........I am so sorry for what he did to you, and I promise nothing like that will ever happen again—not with me around, anyway. Anyone who dares to harm you shall have The Phantom of the Opera to deal with." His eyes were hard and soft at the same time. I smiled at him, again sipping at my tea. I gave him a hopeful look, "So you'll lie next to me?"

His gaze became like a warm, rich, liquid, "Forever......"

I leaned across the table, and kissed his unmasked cheek. Funny that he wasn't wearing his mask.......

I'd noticed that he had taken to wearing it less and less since I had seen him unmasked.

I loved it!

We set the dishes in the sink, and washed them; enjoying the comfortable mood, the warm, happy feeling in our chests. I hummed softly as I scrubbed the dishes, then handed them to Erik to dry off, and set on the little towel by the sink.

Once that was finished, we decided that a visit to Nadir Khan was long overdue. I blushed a little when I thought of how long it had been since I'd seen him. Erik put his mask back on; after that, we set out across the water, and then walked the distance to a little flat, just along the Rue Scribe. Erik knocked on the door—Nadir answered it. "Why!" He said, grinning broadly, "Just the two people I wanted to see most!"

Erik snorted; but Nadir and I ignored him, as Nadir continued, "I was beginning to think you forgot me!" I stepped inside, pulling Erik with me; grasping Nadir's hand firmly, "How could we forget you? You are such a dear person, and a wonderful friend to Erik and I! What could possibly make us forget you?" Nadir smirked at Erik, "I can think of a few things that would make you forget everything.....everything — except each other. Don't you agree, Erik?" Erik, for once not displaying his usual self-confidence; looked at the ground, blushing, and said clearly, "Shut up, Nadir."

I eyed Erik, who never spoke like that. Nadir laughed loudly, and merrily. I grinned at him, "Save this image in your memory, Nadir! I've never seen Erik like this!" Nadir laughed again, "Oh, be sure that I will! This is, indeed, a rare occurrence! I've never seen him so humbled..."

"And you never shall, not again." Erik said crisply, standing up straighter, grasping my hand firmly. "No, I think not..." Nadir said softly, "For the next time I remark such, I think you will react differently, indeed." He waggled his eyebrows at Erik, who looked at the ground again. I giggled, unsure, and a little confused. Erik looked at me, then at Nadir, "Well, are you going to show us into your parlor, like a proper gentleman?" I nudged Erik in the ribs, "Not so rude! I know you barge in at all hours, and care not for pleasantries, but really Erik! Come now, a little politeness, oui?" Erik glared at me; but I just laughed, and batted my eyelashes at him, "Please?"

Erik's eyes softened, "Of course................Nadir, may we please move to the parlor?" Nadir laughed, "She has you around her little finger! How did you do it, Christine? I should like to try it for myself! Think what we could accomplish together—he might turn into a perfect gentleman!" I grinned, "I have no idea what I did; maybe I am just a nice person?"

Nadir snorted, "I'm a nice person, and it's gotten me nowhere with Erik where manners are concerned. I think your answer is far from the truth, Christine. Erik, can you offer another opinion?"

I looked at Erik, hopefully. He looked at Nadir, "Shut up, dear old friend." He said, smiling indulgently. Nadir laughed again, and we moved into the parlor.

I sat next to Erik on a setteé; not sitting on him, for fear of Nadir's teasing comments. He went to the kitchen, and returned with a platter of cakes and pastries. "Tea is on, if you want some." I nodded, "We'd love some tea, wouldn't we, Erik?" He shrugged, "It would be a shame to let tea go to waste in this house..........Nadir makes wonderful tea, indeed..." I rolled my eyes, laughing. Nadir laughed, too.

Once the tea was out, and most of the pastries were gone—Erik had a monstrous sweet tooth, I found out—Nadir teased Erik, "There's only one more of the cherry strudel that you love so much, Erik. Why don't you finish them off?" I blushed for Erik, but he just laughed, "What can I say? They are splendent. I may have to hire you as my personal dessert chef. Would you consider living in my home, and cooking desserts for myself and Christine?" Nadir laughed, "Thank you for the compliment, and your offer, but no. I like my home, and my freedom. You are my friend Erik, but I think I would kill you if I lived with you." I blushed on Erik's behalf, as he feigned offence—though I heard some relief in his reply, "And do you think I want you in my home at all hours? I am glad you turned my offer down! Though I cry to think of the strudel's I shall be missing!"

I laughed, "Wait until you try MY strudel's Erik—you will swear off all else, I promise you! My desserts are the best!" Erik looked mock-annoyed, "Then why have you not been making such things, if you can do so? Why are you holding out on me?"

I shrugged, "You never asked." "And that is reason not to?"

I shrugged again.

Erik huffed, "In the future, I expect to taste your desserts." Nadir laughed, "Look at you two! Tell me, how do you stand him, Christine? He is incorrigible, and irredeemable." I blushed, and Erik again pretended offence, holding a hand to his breast, "Well, I never!"

Nadir eyed me silently, "Or is it perhaps that you do not see his irritabilities, his flaws—or do not care......? Is that how it is?" I blushed, and drank the last of my tea. Erik put an arm around my shoulders, "Don't tease my Christine, Nadir."

I looked at him, not mentioning that he said 'my Christine'. Nadir evidently found no fault in this, for he said not a word on it. It left me wondering what he meant in saying 'my Christine'.........

Nadir laughed, "Alright, I'll tease you then. How goes the progress of your show?" I looked up at Nadir, and reached out for the teapot. Nadir held up a hand, "Never mind for a moment—It seems I am neglecting my duties as host. You want more tea, Christine?" I nodded, "Yes please!" He smiled, and poured me another cup of tea.

Erik

With Christine's cup refilled, Nadir motioned for me to begin talking. I mock-glared at him, but started, "Well, my show premiers in two days................. The day after tomorrow, at six; the show will open for the first time, will begin its maiden voyage!" Nadir smiled at me, over his cup, "You must be proud and excited." I nodded, absentmindedly squeezing Christine's shoulder. Nadir noticed this, and waggled his eyebrows. "I am very excited, and extremely proud. You know how long I've been working on this." "I do..." He said gravely, "This is your baby...............How long have you been working on this?" I thought about it, "Um, at least....maybe twenty years? I am not really sure...." Nadir nodded, "I know you had ideas even when you were first at that fair—I assume you have told Christine about your past?" I nodded, "Yes." "It is good that you did..." "I am, indeed, glad Erik trusts me enough to tell me such things..." Christine murmured, leaning her head on my shoulder. Nadir's grin widened, "That work is your baby, Erik—but I think you shall have another baby, soon....One that is flesh, instead of paper. And then I shall repay you the way I said I would." I blushed beneath my mask, and Christine looked down for a moment, then back at Nadir, "Repay him? How so?" Nadir grinned, leaning forward, "Oh, well, Erik woke me at four in the morning, and I said that when he has children—babies actually—I shall come over when he has just gotten him or her to sleep, and bother him, and his child—or children."

Christine's eyebrow quirked upward, "If I am still around—If Erik does not tire of me—on that night; I would like you to warn me, so I can leave the house." I cried in indignation, "I shall never tire of you! And you would desert me?!" She rolled her lovely eyes, "Take a joke once in a while, Angel. Besides, I do not want to be around a baby whose sleep has been shattered." I stuck my tongue out at her, and she grinned; first at me, then at Nadir. My heart beat quickly in my chest. Oh, how I loved her.....

"I quite agree with Christine, Erik....However, I shall still come and bother you. Yes, Christine, I shall warn you. How is a few hour's warning?" "Fine enough, Nadir!" Christine grinned, sipping delicately at her tea. My empty cup was resting on the table, along with the empty sweets' platter. How I wished for another of Nadir's strudel's, or one of his custard bowls.......Then again, Christine had said she was a wonderful dessert cook......Perhaps I would have to test her proclamation...

Christine was glowing with happiness, as she sat, basking in the warmth, and Nadir's wit. I would surely remember that picture of her, and paint it when I had the time....

Christine looked over at me, setting her now empty cup on the table, and smiled. "This is such a wonderful visit Nadir! How I enjoy your company! Apart from Erik's, and Meg's, and Madame Giry's—well, you come before her—there is no company I love more than yours!" Nadir dimpled, and the old bat blushed at Christine's compliment. I laughed, as his darkened skin went pinkish at the cheeks. "Why, if I did not know any better, I would say you were blushing, old chap!" He grinned, "And if I did not know better, I'd say you were being nice for a change."

I grinned, "You don't know better, this time."

He grinned again, "The mighty Phantom, being nice and colloquial! What a change—and all because of a certain young lady in this room." Christine blushed rose-petal pink, and mumbled, "I could not possibly be the cause..." He laughed, "I often find, that for a special someone, people find themselves willing to change into anything—just to please that special someone."

There, both Christine and I blushed. He grinned at us. I knew that what he said was true, completely and utterly true. I would have changed into Mark Antony, or Mr. Darcy, or Romeo Montague, had Christine wished it....

"What time is it, Nadir?" Christine asked, still pink. Nadir looked at the clock behind him, "It is five forty-three." Christine's eyes widened, "Oh............Is it really that late?" She looked at me, "We should get going, Erik, yes?" I nodded, "I do believe we should." I got up.

"Oh, must you?" Nadir asked, standing with Christine and I. "Yes, I fear we must...." I said. "Oh.......Come and have dinner with me! I am so lonely!" He pleaded. Christine caved, "You don't get many visitors besides Erik, and I, do you?" "No..."

Christine was visibly upset. She moved to his side, and took his hand, "Of course we'll stay with you, then!" He grinned, "Wonderful! You will stay, too, Erik?" He looked so hopeful, and I knew he had hooked us. "What are you cooking up, then?"

He grinned, "How about my French Onion Stew, and then some fillets of Salmon, and then, of course, some of my much-beloved chocolate mousse." "That sounds sublime, Nadir—you always were a wonderful cook..."

He laughed in response.

I pulled a chair out for my lovely Angel, and sat down beside her. She giggled as she sat down, something I loved to hear.

Nadir soon came out of the kitchen, two steaming bowls in his hands. He deposited the bowls by Christine's and my place, then went and got his own bowl. When I asked why Darius hadn't served us, he replied, "I gave him a day off. He deserved one, after all this time." I nodded—the man was always around, and faithfully serving Nadir. "May I help you, Nadir?" Christine asked, moving to stand. I held her lap down, "Christine, sit down! I won't hear of you getting up, and I think Nadir would agree, yes?" I looked towards Nadir for confirmation. He nodded, "Christine, I will not hear of you troubling yourself!" Christine looked at me pointedly. I got the message. "Nadir, do you require my assistance?"

He laughed, "And have you eat all of my food? No offence, Erik, but no thank you." I grimaced at the picture he painted of me, "Am I truly that bad?" "Not so much now......Now you merely barge in at all hours stay for an hour at most, and leave—without eating anything but my sweets. But before you lived down in that Opera House of yours with Christine? Oh, you were as bad as all that, and worse!"

I felt incredibly mollified.

"Well, I offer a truce—come down to my home any time you wish—bother us at all hours. It is only fair, yes?" He eyed me, "You truly mean this?" "When have you ever known me to break my word?"

Nadir snorted, "All the time, Erik."

I glared at him, "Yes, well, I mean it—my door is always open to you." He looked politely shocked, "How much you have changed! Will you always greet me with good grace?" I laughed, "That I cannot account for." He grinned, "Not so changed as I first thought, then."

We ate, almost quietly, often filling the silence with comments, and talk. Christine was glowing with happiness, and I myself was not too far off from that. Nadir looked, in all honesty, like he had not had such a good time in a very long time. I felt a pang of remorse, which sort of shocked me.....I most-likely had not been a perfect friend to Nadir through the years, and he had been nothing short of my only friend for such a long time.............I would, I vowed, right the wrongs I had done. I would make it up to Nadir, even if it killed me.

"Erik? Have you once again slipped into the world of your superior mind?" "Superior?" I asked, an eyebrow raised. Nadir laughed, "You're always telling me how your mind is far superior to the minds of others. And besides that, I thought you had given up disappearing into your little world so often, since you never wanted to miss what miss Christine—" I interrupted before he could say any more, "Nadir, kindly shut your mouth." Christine choked on her fish, coughing delicately to hide what I knew to be a laugh.

She cleared her throat a few times, "So, Nadir, did you know that Erik read Pride and Prejudice recently? And before that, he read Jane Eyre." Nadir was the one, now, who choked on what he was eating, "What? Old macabre trousers? Why! Oh, I never thought I'd see the day where Erik read a romance—read a romance......Did he like them, Christine?" Christine grinned, "Oh, he enjoyed them immensely. I heard him sniffling a little one night, and knew he was crying over Jane's separation from Rochester." Nadir laughed, "Why! Has the Devil gone ice-skating? Are pigs flying? I never thought I'd see this day, indeed!" He laughed heartily, wiping tears of merriment from his eyes. "Ha-ha-ha. Have you both had enough fun at my expense, then?" Christine made her eyes gooey, "Why Erik! We never meant any offence, darling." She soothed. I hated myself for becoming soothed immediately. "Yes, Erik, we meant no harm........Oh, it's just so good.....Ah, I do not think I've laughed so heartily in my life......." I sighed, grinning involuntarily.

"Nadir, when did Erik read Romeo and Juliet?" Christine asked, setting her fork down, looking at him her attention fully absorbed in her question. I cringed. "Oh, that was a long time ago......Long before you came along, to be sure.......Perhaps when he was about fourteen?" Her eyes widened, "Really? Interesting......" "I only read it because you would not shut up about the damned story!" She laughed delicately, "Ah, I see....."

"And though he'll never admit it, Erik loved Romeo and Juliet." I stared at him, shocked. "You thought you fooled me into thinking you hated it, didn't you, Erik?" I nodded dumbly. "I know, Erik, when you hate something, and when you love it. Your pretended hate is hollow, and if one views your eyes, they will see through that 'hate' like pushing your finger through crêpe paper." I glowered at him, still reeling. How had I been so easy to read? Did he really know me so well?

"It is how I know you don't hate me—not anymore, anyway. Once, you did..........Now you do not." Christine looked over at me, "How could you hate Nadir?" "Obviously I do not hate him anymore—however once he annoyed me beyond all else, and I did hate him." Christine sighed, "Yes but why?" I made no move to reply.

Nadir got up out of the chair, "I'm going to fetch the mousse—Erik, you stay where you are; else there won't be any for Christine or I." His eyes twinkled. I ignored that comment, as Christine giggled into her hand. "What am I going to do with you, Erik? Are you going to eat me out of house and home?" I shook my head, "I do not eat like that anymore...." "No," Christine agreed, "Now you eat like a bird! If I did not know better, I would think you were some great lady who never eats more than a bird does!" She giggled again. "Worried?" I asked, smiling at her. Nadir laughed from behind us, "Are you not the sweetest couple?" We both blushed, as Nadir set the delicate little glass chalices beside us. I sniffed the bowl.....Oh, I had missed Nadir's chocolate mousse....

Christine eyed her serving, eyes wide—"You made this yourself?" He nodded, "Erik won't eat anything of mine unless it's homemade." She grinned at Nadir and I, "I can see why. I can also see why Erik wants to hire you as his chef.....You don't cater to parties, do you? Or just for friends?" He laughed, "Ah, no. You're welcome to come over and have meals with me, but I'm not offering my cooking as a service. I'll be swamped all too soon. I want to stay semi-retired, thank you." The admiration in Christine's eyes grew significantly. I noticed that her chalice was empty, she was finished only seconds after myself. It truly was splendent, his cooking. Truly.

He laughed at our empty chalices', "My mousse is always a hit—and not just with Erik."

Christine grinned, "I can see why."

Nadir dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. I followed suit, and so did Christine. She got up, and cleared the dished, ignoring the protests of Nadir and I. "Nonsense!" she laughed, taking the dishes to the kitchen, "It is the least I can do!" She hummed as I saw her scrub the dishes; and then place them, clean, on the towel Nadir kept by the sink. Then she rejoined us. "Are you going to insult me by saying you have to go?" Nadir asked when Christine sat down. "I won't listen to your talk of going." Nadir assured us. "I wouldn't dream of being that rude!" Christine said vehemently. Nadir smiled, and patted Christine's hand, "You are a saint, Christine.....It is my opinion that you brighten the world—especially Erik's world, if I have my facts straight." I smiled at Nadir, "Oh, do quit carrying on!" He laughed, "Oh, how embarrassed you are!" I sighed, helping Christine to her feet, as Nadir stood also.

We sat down in the parlor again, the warmth from the dining room following us.

Christine smiled freely, and I laughed as much as I was able. Nadir frequently grinned at Christine and I when he thought we weren't watching.

We stayed, chatting idly. I found I actually enjoyed Nadir's company....Strange.....

"Well, Erik! I cannot express how much I've enjoyed your—and Christine's of course—company! I don't think I've ever enjoyed it quite so much...." "You mean you've enjoyed teasing me, Nadir!" He laughed good-naturedly, "Oh how you do run on, Erik!" I stepped forward, and grasped his hand tightly, "I'll miss you, you old bat. And remember, my door is always open." "That I will." He laughed. Nadir turned, and kissed Christine's hand. "A pleasure, fair Lady, to spend an evening with you. Promise me you'll keep visiting me." She beamed, "Naturally! I adore your company!"

"And I know I wish Erik to come over—even though he would come whether I wanted him to or not. I also know he goes wherever you do, Christine." I glared at him, while grinning. "I will, of course, continue to visit you." We said a few more farewells, then headed into the now dark street.

❧❧❧

Christine and I ran, laughing warmly, towards the Opéra Populaire. I tugged at her arm, feeling a warm glow surrounding us as we moved. It kept out the cool breeze, making her cheeks, and the skin near my eyes, become pink and flush. I tugged at her, giggling like a little child, pulling her up flights and flights of stairs. Christine held a hand to her hair, giggling happily. Her other hand held my arm. She blushed, and stumbled a little. I stopped, gently helping steady her on her feet. We continued on; and it seemed there was a rosy hue, an almost aura, surrounding Christine's form. It was thick, the hue, and surrounded her every limb, like an outline in a drawing, making her look warm, and happy, and flush with life and love. I wrapped my arms around her, twirling her around in a circle, on the landing just before the rooftop. She squealed with delight, "Oh!" I held her warm, breathing body against mine, hearing her heart thrum in her breast. I wanted to hear that heartbeat for the rest of my life, and forever more.

She giggled again, and I released her, instead settling for holding her hand. We reached the rooftop.

"Why have you brought us here, Erik?" She looked at me, her eyes sparkling; the rosy hue glowing even brighter in the star speckled night. She laughed, as wind played with her hair. I would ahem loved to be the wind—free, unbound or held down. It had freedom, and besides; it could play with Christine's hair, and surround her, clinging to her luxurious form. "Why not?" I asked, feeling as free in love as I had ever felt—It was wondrous!

"Oh, I feel as if this moment—this tender, warm, rosy moment will last forever!" I felt myself smile, "Sometimes our happiness is captured, in moments like this—wondrous moments. It makes sense that a moment like this should belong in that category, yes?" "Shut up, Erik, and enjoy the moment." Christine said tenderly. I kissed her cheek, "Just as my lady asks." She smiled, pulling me towards the skyline. "I feel as if there is this secret, otherworldly music, and feeling in this night—it feels special, Erik—Do you feel it?" I nodded, "Indeed. The air is thick with magic." I did not add that the magic was as ordinary, and unique and rare as life—and that the magic was called love; one of the most—if not the most—powerful force on this, or any, world.

Love may have clouded our reason; made us see faeries, and sparkling clouds surrounding each other; yet in that night I could not do anything, could not move, or speak, or breathe. The night fizzled with warmth, and beauty unknown to duller, more obtuse creatures.

All I knew was that the minutes were becoming hours, that love was beauty and pure. It was like a river through the soul, making lovers whole.

Love lives on inside our hearts and always will.....

I spun her in a circle, grinning like the idiot in love I was—had been for so long. She had a dizzy, star-eyed smile on her face; an easiness I somehow felt and breathed, too.

"Come, let's go on the Angel's statue. The best view is there." She nodded, "I like that idea!"

So we climbed up onto the Angel's statue, standing very close, and blushing brightly. I placed my head on top of hers, looking out at the night sky. The night spun and swirled with promise; fizzled with magic, a magic that I could almost see. I was sure Christine could sense it. She hummed quietly, "Nighttime truly is perfect......Thank you, Erik, for making me see the beauty of the night. I don't know why I didn't before......It means so much to me...." My constantly liquified heart melted again, "I take no credit for that—you chose to believe what I told you. Really it is your own doing."

When had I started saying such stupid things?

She laughed, "Ah, no, it was your doing." "I suppose..." I murmured. She leaned against me, pressing her little hands against my mask. "Ah...." She sighed, "It's so warm tonight....Don't you think so?" "That I do, love." If I was not entitled to call her that by now, I should have been.

All our time together could be considered a courtship, could it not?

"You say such lovely things, Erik!" Christine giggled. Before I could stop myself, I was speaking, "Lovely words for a lovely lady." She blushed, and her aura became brighter. "Oh, how you do flatter me.....! I'm going to turn pink! You flatter me too much!" She was blushing delicately.

"No, dear. I would pay every compliment to you—you need it all, and more. Love, you deserve everything." She sighed, shaking her head like she didn't believe me.

I touched her cheek, guiding her face gently to mine, "Listen to me, Christine, you are perfect!" She smiled softly, "Oh, if you say so...."

We turned, as one, to the skyline, looking out at the night sky of Paris. The sight was, simply put, astounding. The lights made Paris look almost like a snow-globe, with lights instead of snow. I pressed my face into her curls, nuzzling my nose into her hair and neck. She trembled a little. "Oh..." I smiled, burrowing my face into her curls. She gave a nervous giggle, but I could tell she was happy.

Then she turned to me, her face radiant. She looked like an Angel—an Angel about to ask a question. "Whatever it is you wish to ask me, ask me...." She looked up at me, her eyes half-hidden under thick, black eyelashes, "Shut up and kiss me, Erik."

The breath was out of my lungs.

I did as she asked, my head descending towards hers. She parted her lips with a soft smile I adored.

I hoped she would wear that smile often.

It was perfect, as the breeze swirled around us, warm and lovely.....

When we parted, I looked into her eyes; those blue eyes I dreamed about so often I could paint them with my eyes closed, and my hands tied behind my back. She was blushing, and so obviously alive. My living Angel....

She leaned back against the Angel, as I leaned towards her.

I thought, as I leaned my head against her chest;

'Love me, that's all that the Phantom asked of you.....'

Raoul

Raoul watched, as Christine and her shadowy companion spun around the rooftop. He was the one who should have been with Christine—not that violin-voiced stranger with her!

He saw them giggle like schoolchildren—well, he saw Christine. He saw her eyes, sparkling like gemstones set in sunlight, warm with happiness. Her hair; silky, warm and rich, swirl a little in the breeze. Even in the moonlight, he could tell Christine's face was becomingly flushed. She looked giddy, and intoxicated, and enraptured.

He couldn't see the shadowy man beside her, the one who Christine's warm, starry eyes were directed at. She looked in danger of falling into the stranger's arms, even to Raoul's eyes.

He felt a vicious pang of jealousy assault him—he should be the one to hold her, kiss her, marry her! Not this shadow of a man!

Raoul saw the couple—for that was what they were—move like dancers towards the Angel's statue. What gave the man the right to help Christine up to the almost platform of the Angel's statue? What gave him the right to stand so close to her?

He, Raoul, should have been there! Christine loved him! Him, not that shadow of a man!

And yet, Raoul could not quite believe that.........Not anymore.............And not with the way she looked at the man next to her. Raoul moved silently a little, and could see an outline of the man—all formal black attire, black hair that was impeccably styled, and something white on his face.

Who is that man of mystery?? Raoul wondered, anger filling his veins.

"Lovely words for a lovely lady..." Raoul heard the man's romantic voice coo. How gentle, and caring, and .......hopeful? The voice had a hopeful note in it.

Were they not established lovers?

Then Christine murmured, blushing and smiling softly, "Oh, how you do flatter me! I'm going to turn pink! You flatter me too much!"

But Raoul got the sense she was enjoying this man's attention immensely. Got the sense that she was loving his words, and voice, and the feeling of his closeness. He knew, without being there too long, that Christine really cared—if not loved—the man she was with. And her companion obviously adored her. It was too sickeningly sweet and gooey for Raoul, yet he stayed....

The man was speaking, his voice soft, and earnest, and so obviously in love with whom it was addressing, "No, dear. I would pay every compliment to you—you need it all, and more. Love, you deserve everything."

Raoul winced, as Christine huffed with fake exasperation, looking out at the night, away from the man. He turned her to face him with a long, elegant finger placed delicately under Christine's chin. Raoul wanted to surge forward, and kill the man. But he didn't, just stood there, almost crying with pain, heartbreak, and jealousy. "Listen to me, Christine, you are perfect!" Christine's eyes lit up as she smiled at the man—she had eyes only for him. "Oh, if you say so...." But Raoul got the feeling Christine took great stock in what the man had to say.

They turned towards the skyline, almost humming with happiness. Raoul, helplessly captured by Christine—his heart was in her pocket—did too.

The man, in an obvious show of affection for his companion; pressed his face into her curls, rubbing his nose up and down her head. She let out a soft sigh, and the man burrowed his face deeper into her hair; almost purring with happiness, it seemed. She giggled, and Raoul knew she was happy—which was what he wanted most with Christine; the blissful, wonderful happiness the two on the Angel's statue seemed to be almost drowning in.

Then Christine turned to face the man. He seemed to think she had a question to ask her. Raoul knew that look though, he'd seen it on every woman who he'd ever met. He'd seen it on Christine, directed at him, only once. Now she never looked at him like that anymore. He'd begun to think she never made such a face—he was wrong. She was making it now, making it earnestly. Making it at Raoul's new, and sworn enemy and rival. She batted her eyelashes, and looked at him through lowered lashes, "Shut up and kiss me, Erik."

Raoul's heart stabbed with pain when the couple kissed in the starlight. When they parted, Raoul noticed that Christine's lips were drawn into a stunning and soft loving smile. He saw the man's eyes become almost hypnotized by her gaze, as he leaned his head on her breast.

Then, spinning, and fearlessly careless, they descended, clinging to each other. Christine made quiet simpering noised, which seemed to make the solid man besides her melt. "We shouldn't be out so late...." Christine giggled conspiratorially. "I know. Do you regret it?" The man called Erik asked, sounding the opposite of apologetic. "Not one bit!" Christine laughed, like Erik had caught her in a lie, and loved being exposed. she tapped the man on his white nose. He leaned forward, and kissed Christine, his arms wrapping around her. To his horror, Raoul saw Christine's arms wrap around that Erik's neck.

They separated, laughing again, "We should go home, I fear.......Or Madame Giry will think I've corrupted you, and this time, I don't know if my control will hold." Raoul's eyes widened at that comment. Were they to be married, then? Was there no hope for Raoul at all?

"Why Erik! How racy and bawdy of you! I should march myself to Madame Giry's, to protect myself from such an indelicate, indecorous, indecent—what a wicked man you can be!"

But even Raoul could tell her protests were as thin as a leaf found in late fall. He knew she didn't care, not one iota.

Raoul bent over, but he stood up, because he could not bear to see Christine leave.

Erik touched her cheek, "Oh, love, I'm sorry....I beg you forgive me!" She laughed, "I shouldn't but I already have." She kissed his cheek, "Is it just me, or is the roof cold now?" Erik picked her up bridal style, "If my lady is cold, we must move inside. Let us away, My Christine!" She giggled, as both she and he disappeared through the doorway.

Raoul came out of the shadows, his heart pounding.

He felt the crack in his soft heart, a crater compared to all else, which was now bleeding with his unrequited love....

Who was this Erik, and why was he close to Christine's heart? Raoul was not a fool; he'd seen the way those two looked at each other. Any great fool could see they adored one another.

So why were they so close?

"Oh Christine...." Raoul murmured, thinking of the supper he'd planned for the two of them. It would have been so wonderful, and he was planning on proposing that night! She wouldn't have refused!

And then, he couldn't find her......And when he did, it was with another man, in that man's arms. She was glowing in his arms.

Raoul rapped on the Angel's statue. He was going to find out who this Erik was; who he was, an how to destroy him in Christine's eyes. Everyone had skeletons in their closets. This man surely had his. Raoul was going to find them; find them, expose them, and make Christine recoil in horror from the man.

He vowed he would bring Christine back to him!

That he vowed.