Christine

I awoke in Erik's tight, warm, comforting embrace. His soft—now unmasked—face was burrowed into my neck, his legs tucked up and bent against my bent legs. His soft breathing tickled the hair against my neck. I tried speaking, but found I could not even make myself move—let alone speak. I closed my eyes, feeling my body flow towards Erik; trying to melt into him, become his heart; that which beat for him, kept him alive. He mumbled something like a gentle breeze, and scooted closer to me. I felt myself blush, as he pressed himself even closer to me. The nerve of him.........And yet; was I not the one who had asked him to sleep next to me, ..............Had I not been the one to run to his coffin, when I had that nightmare?

I was blushing at myself now.

He cooed something again, something that sounded curiously like, "My only love...."

His arms were around my waist, hands interlocked just above my stomach. I let my eyes close, giving in to the languid, luxurious happiness I was feeling.

I felt a hand stroking my cheek; so I opened my eyes slowly. I looked over at the hand, blushing. I made my breathing slow a little; for I wanted Erik to think I was still asleep. His body was still pressed up and melded against mine. One hand was still wrapped tightly around my midsection. I felt my face heat up, and struggled to keep my breathing even as his hand rubbed little circles against my cheek. It was soft, his hand, and warm from the sheets we were wrapped up in—though they weren't, by any standards, winter sheets. I felt his lips press against the back of my neck, warmth spreading across my neck. His warm mouth trembled against my neck; perhaps whispering some soft words I knew I would want to hear.

I sighed softly, and my Angel tensed. "You are awake?"

I shivered at his voice, scooting closer to him. "Yes....But I cannot make myself get up........It feels so wonderful to be in your arms...." He chuckled a little, mumbling something into my neck, "You enjoy my embrace do you?"

I laughed shakily, "Of course I do........You, um, make me feel so safe.......And I am always happy with you..." I mumbled, looking down at the hand holding me against him. His hand truly was so beautiful...........

"I see......" He murmured. His other hand resumed its gentle caresses on my cheek.

I felt so warm, so safe; so happy in that moment, that I could think of nothing else. It was bliss, that moment. I knew it would be written, seen, and etched into my memory forevermore. I felt his soft, warm breathing on my neck; playing with the fine down on the back of my neck. "I know we should get up, Erik, but I cannot even make myself move my head, let alone my whole body." "Then stay here with me..." Erik voice was almost a purr, but the way he said the sentence was so tender I could hardly believe it.

"I like that idea......What time is it, though?" He hummed a tune I couldn't recognize before answering, "I would place the time at, perhaps, six in the morning." I sighed, "I do not have to be at rehearsal until nine." "I know." There was a smile in Erik's voice. I had to see his face, so I wiggled until I was facing him. I saw an expression of almost childish glee on his face, mixed with a tenderness in his eyes I adored. I smiled, and touched the side of his face. I let my fingers stroke his cheekbone, chin, and forehead, marvelling at the softness of his beauteous face. As I was about to trace his brow, he turned his face, catching the underside of my arm with his lips. His mouth lingered on the soft underside of my arm for a few seconds. He kissed up my arm, stopping at the underside of my upper arm. Only then did he pause, and look up at me; his eyes wide, soft, and almost intoxicated by the look of it. His eyes sparkled, were starry. "Christine...." His voice, that rich, velvety musical voice with hints of sultry words, and suave phrases. The almost elemental, hauntingly stunning voice I could all but drown in. I loved the way his subtle French accent lifted his speech; the way his deep, soft, wonderful voice surrounded me whenever he spoke, made me safe, and happy. I often blushed because of him, but I did not truly care. I loved blushing for some reason, whenever he was the cause....

"Christine, darling, did you fall asleep on me? You eyes were almost closed, and foggy; I surmised you had fallen asleep on me." I looked up at him, "No, Erik, I was only thinking..." He cocked his head at me, a finger coming to hold me under the chin. He lifted my face to look at him, "What were you thinking of?" I answered without thinking, "Your voice...." He raised a slender, artistic eyebrow, "My voice? Why were you thinking of that?" I blushed, "Oh, I was just thinking about how your voice is wholly unique as far as voices go. Yes, you sound like the music you play, but your voice is like no other human's out there..........I love your voice.......It is unique, and special, just like you are." He was the one who blushed this time, "You flatter me too much, Christine. How am I supposed to react to such a comment, such a compliment?" I shrugged, "Take it as it is, perhaps. Something true, and nice?" He laughed, "I love the way you look at the world. Now that is something to love....." He sounded reverent. I laughed, "You love the oddest things."

He shrugged, "We cannot all love the same things, Christine......"

I snuggled into his embrace, "That is only too true...."

We lounged in bed for a long while, talking softly, our heads pressed close together.

We stayed that way; until both of us decided it would be a very good idea to get up and eat something before rehearsal started. I padded to the parlor, with Erik close behind me, and looked at the clock. I turned to face him, "It's only seven-thirty....Perhaps it is good that we got up when we did......I know neither of us want me to be late to the second-last rehearsal...." "Indeed, that is true." Erik agreed, placing a hand on the small of my back. I felt the warmth of his hand seep into me; making me want to, again, sink into him.

"I do believe we should have left the bedroom sooner, for I shall be rehearsing you before you leave." Inwardly, I sighed. I should have known Erik would want to rehearse me. Our nightly rehearsals had been getting better as the time to opening-night grew closer. I no longer stuttered when singing my lines, or shivered a little when I spoke something a little lustful. I knew the part of Aminta backwards and forwards. That made our rehearsals run smoothly, and well. However, that did not make them any easier. Erik knew every trick out there for singing, and how to make a few hours turn into a rigorous, and tiring vocal workout. I smiled tiredly, "No one teaches singing like you do." He grinned, "I will take that as a compliment." I smiled back, "That is how I meant my statement, Angel." He led me to the organ in his room. "Sit on the bench, and practice your scales, and stretch, while I go fetch you breakfast." When it came to things like this, Erik truly was the Angel of Music, and my teacher.

I did as he asked, and practiced my scales while I stretched. Erik came in, some minutes later, carrying a platter of fruit and cheese. I didn't stop my warm ups, knowing he would be disappointed in me if I stopped. Erik set the platter down on the shelf beside the organ, and sat beside me. "I could hear you out in the kitchen, Christine. You sound lovely." I blushed in thanks.

"Now, let us begin."

He led me through every aria he could think of for half an hour; then he made me hold the highest note possible for fifteen minutes, then the lowest note for another fifteen, and a middle note for ten minutes. He nodded once, and I knew he was pleased with that. "Now we shall run through your lines." I was ready for this, and knew all of my lines backwards and forwards. I sang with every emotion the part demanded, and more. Erik hummed softly beside me, accompanying me on the organ.

"Alright, Christine. I believe that will be sufficient for now. Eat your breakfast, love, you've earned it." He stroked my cheek. I smiled, and nibbled on my food. "Of course; you will be rehearsed by me, for two hours, after you've eaten—when you come home." I sighed, but could not truly blame him for wanting to make sure I truly was prepared for my role as Aminta. "Of course, Angel." I nodded, nibbling on my cheese and bread. He smiled at me, "I am glad you understand Christine..." I grinned, finishing up my meal, before kissing him on the cheek. I stood up, hugging him. "I'll be home in ten hours, Angel." He nodded, "I shall miss you until you return."

I teared up a little, but turned so he wouldn't see. "I'll miss you too..." I mumbled, my back to him. I padded out of the room, and left my home.

Walking up to the surface left me with a long time with only my thoughts. I felt this urge telling me something bad would happen during the performance of Don Juan. Why that was, I didn't know, nor did I want to. Why would something bad happen during Erik's prize opera? Why did I keep getting this bad feeling? What could possibly happen that night?

I sighed, pushing a lock of hair out of my face. I decided there was no point in worrying about what might happen. It would just make me miserable, and life was too sweet at this point to become miserable. Why bother worrying about what might happen, when I needed to focus on what was happening.

I felt my face heat up. What was happening?

Inwardly, I looked backwards; towards all my memories of the past. It was all too sweet and tender to be real................What if one day I woke up and I found I had only dreamed all this? What if I had just imagined Erik?

That was utterly foolish!

How could I possibly dream up someone as.........Spectacular, remarkable, and unforgettable as Erik? He was like no other person out there, one of a kind.......extraordinary, and wonderful.....

I giggled a little, and almost tripped over an uneven stone. Cursing myself for my lack of attention, I hurried along the road until I reached my dressing room. I opened the mirror, which was habit now, and stepped inside. Sighing, I shut the mirror, and sat down in my chair. I heard a knock at the door. Sighing, I walked slowly over to the door. Opening it, I found Raoul at the door, smiling like the annoying idiot he was. I sighed, "Come in, Raoul." He did not hesitate; walking in the room, and going to stand by the mirror, his back facing me. I stepped in after him, closing the door. "Well, hello Raoul. May I ask what brings you here?"

He grinned at me, his long blonde hair tied up in a navy blue velvet ribbon at the nape of his neck. He had his navy blue jacket with the gold buttons and ties, and the dark black pants and black dress boots. He grinned at me, "Hello Christine! I am just stopping in on a friend! Would you allow me to escort you to rehearsal? And you're still on board with our plan?" I nodded, trying to ignore the annoying part of what he asked me, "Oh, of course I'm still for the plan of ours." I grinned inwardly—seeing as there was no way the plan would ever work. "Yes, but may I escort you to rehearsal?"

I groaned inside—so he was insistent on this. "Oh, of course...." I said, feeling like that was the last thing I wanted. He grinned, and held out his elbow to me. I sighed; taking his elbow, letting him escort me out the door, and around the corner. But when we neared the stage, I broke from his grip, instead walking beside him. I did not want to seem like his little woman, or that he and I were courting.

As far as I was concerned, I was a free woman.

Erik's face flashed by, warm and tender, and loving...

What about him? A voice in my head asked.

You're not a free woman! It continued, scoffingly, Certainly not when you live with The Phantom of the Opera....

I blushed, and quickened my pace, trying to get away from Raoul and my thoughts. Was that true........?

Of course it is! The voice announced. I had to admit that was the truth, of course it was.......

I wasn't Raoul's. That was true.

But I wasn't a free woman, either. Not at all.

Madame Giry beckoned to me, and Meg's face lit up. I quickened my pace even more, and was soon with my little family. "Christine, you are almost late. What kept you?" Was that teasing I saw in Madame's face? I blushed at her insinuation, then my blush faded, "No, it is not what you suppose, Madame. Raoul came by, and had to escort me here...." Meg grinned, "I see........My, how annoying you find him........I wonder why that is....." I swatted her.

M. Reyer came over, plastering a fake smile on his face, "Ah, our leading lady! Why aren't you dressed? This is a costume rehearsal, Miss Daaé!" I flushed embarrassedly, and rushed off to the wings so I could don my costume.

I returned, and found Carlotta and her little puppy Piangi in a heated argument with M. Reyer and Madame Giry. I sighed. Of course we could not have a peaceful, nice rehearsal! Of course not!

I grimaced as I neared the arguing group. Meg came up next to me, lacing her arm through mine. "What's going on?" I whispered, leaning in to meet Meg. "Oh, just the usual Carlotta drama. You know how it always goes. Carlotta is really upset that she has such a small, horrid part, and Piangi agrees. That man has no opinion of his own, I'm convinced!" I giggled at little. That was only too true!

"It is not fair to my Cara! Her talent must be given it's due!" Piangi was crying. Carlotta stood, holding herself like a peacock. "I'mma so much better than Christine Daaé!" Carlotta screeched. "It's true!" Piangi parroted. I sighed, as Reyer looked more and more exhausted, "Yes, yes, I know you're talented, but the manager saw fit to put Christine in the role. That's not to say you wouldn't play the part correctly! But Christine has more youth and innocence on her part, and plays the part the way our manager demands." Reyer was trying to be soothing. Carlotta's face reddened, "You think I could not play the part right?" "No, no, madam! I-I...." Reyer sighed, then looked my way, "Ah, miss Daaé! We can begin now!" Reyer grinned, looking like that was what he wanted most; an end to the tiresome argument.

"Places, all! This will be a long rehearsal, and we will break at one-thirty, for a half hour, for lunch. I expect you to be back by two, so do not go too far for lunch! Now—we begin!"

I sighed, getting into place.

Erik

With my Angel gone, and the Opera beginning only tomorrow, I had some things I needed to do.

Pacing around my room, I tried to come up with the best way to propose to my one and only Angel, my love. How should I propose to my light, my life?

I stressed, and obsessed about how to propose for as long as I was able; then threw my hands down, away from my head, throwing myself onto the bed. It was impossible to figure out how to correctly address this situation! She was only the most perfect creature in the world; and I was only one of many who loved her. I was nothing compared to her, a subterranean demon who loved, adored, and would do anything for her. Who was I to try and propose to her?And I did not even know if she loved me, returned my feelings!

I thought about all our time, and smiled softly. So maybe I did know, at least a little, that she cared for me. So back to my original ponderings: How to go about proposing her? she was my everything!

Perhaps Nadir could help me?

True, he would tease me something rotten.....And yet, he was my friend; and I needed his help, even if he did nothing. His company would clear my muddled, tempestuous head. He could, and would help me! I sighed, relieved, knowing he would help me. In a rush; I was up, and running towards Nadir's home.

Nadir opened the door on my second knock, grinning broadly. "I knew you'd come, so I prepared tea. You would like some tea, Erik, wouldn't you?" I sighed, overly relieved, "Of course I would. Thank you, Nadir." He looked at me strangely, "Whatever for?" I grinned at him, "For answering the door, for inviting me in, and for all that you've done for me." He looked at me like I was crazy, "Erik........Have you gone mad?"

I stepped inside, laughing, "Perhaps I have. I'm going to ask Christine Daaé to marry me tomorrow. I could use a cup of tea, and some soothing talk. Will you help me with that?" He walked to the parlor, waiting for me to follow him. I followed, sitting in the parlor as Nadir poured the tea. "All right, Erik, what troubles you?" I laughed, "Everything. I'm so......So insane.......I don't know what to do......Or what to say....I'm so worried I will not do this right. Nadir, I have no idea how to go about proposing to the only woman I'll ever love...."

Nadir smiled reassuringly at me, "Take your tea, and let me talk to you, let me tell you what I think." I complied, fidgeting a little. "And for heaven's sake, Erik, sit still!" He laughed, taking a drink from his cup. I sat still, focusing on my tea. Its temperature was too warm for Christine, but perfect for myself. "Now, Erik, you know I've been married." "Yes, I know." He grinned, "Well; I know your circumstances are different, but here is what I can, and will, offer. Tell Christine how you feel, what she means to you. You love her, right? You cannot live without her in your life, yes? She is your everything, your light, your one and only love, is she not?" I nodded, "Yes." "Then tell her so. Examine your feelings for her; take the best sentiments you've ever felt, and tell her about them." I drank my tea quietly, thinking, "Nadir, all I can say is thank you—thought even that is not enough. Thank you." He looked away, "Don't say things like that!" I looked at him, studying his profile, "Nadir, are your eyes watering?" Nadir turned, laughing, "Erik, you've gone batty. I do not cry." I laughed, "Yes, of course, I must be mistaken." I hid a smile with my teacup.

"So, the performance is tomorrow? What time's the show?" "Seven o'clock sharp." "So, how long is this show of yours?" "It will end at nine-thirty, Nadir........... That reminds me, here." I handed him the show ticket I'd planned to give him later in the day. "Ah, I was wondering if I'd have to buy my own!" He laughed. "What?! No, Nadir! You've been helping me so much these last two months; and I needed to repay you, plus you wanted to see the show. Also, it's sold out, my show. For such a genteel crowd, they seem to burn for something more, ah, salacious or licentious. It shocks me that people who are so decorous would watch such a show that is the opposite of their character." "It would surprise you, then, how many people aren't what they seem." "Not at all, Nadir. I know they pretend to be what they are not. I know they hide their true nature. It is just amusing that they would betray themselves so fully and completely." He laughed, "I see. That makes sense, I think."

"Well, be sure to come early. I've set you up in Box Five, Nadir." His shock was instantaneous, "What? In your own box, your beloved Box Five—You're letting me sit in it? This isn't a joke, a tease?" I sighed, "Look at the ticket if you do not believe me." He did, indeed, look at the ticket. His eyes widened, "You really want me to use Box Five, then?" "Of course............Um, I warn you; be careful, Nadir." He raised an eyebrow, "What now?"

That was the Nadir I knew well.

"It is simply that Christine warned me the Viscount and ex-managers are planning to shoot me while I sit in Box Five......I shouldn't have placed you in Box Five, but it's the best spot.......I do not want you to get hurt, so be wary....." "Ah......I see. Well, thank you for the placing, and for the warning. It is duly noted. And I'll be there, in the Box all alone?" I sensed something almost bitter, and I spoke quickly, "No, you'll not be alone in the Box. I'll be with you until Aminta and Don Juan's duet is upcoming." He looked less worried, "Well, that is no ideal situation...." "You'll still come?" "Of course! I'd not miss your Opera, or you making a fool of yourself for anything." I scrunched my nose beneath the mask, "Make a fool of myself? How so?" He laughed, "Everyone is a fool in love. I made a fool of myself when I was proposing to my wife—she loved me, and I did not know it. I went in a roundabout manner for no reason; and you will make a fool of yourself, too." I was irritated by what he had to say, and did not truly understand what he had to say. "What do you mean?" I asked, annoyed. "If you don't know, I'm not telling you."

No matter what I did, Nadir would not tell me what he meant. He'd just smile secretively, and wink at me. Finally I had to change the subject. "All right, then! You'll not tell me what I want to know. So, um, how is life?" He laughed loudly, "That is a horrible way of switching the subject, and you know it. All right, I'll bite. My life is fine. It would be more quiet if a certain someone wouldn't bother me so much; but I do not mind. It keeps my life interesting." I laughed, "Well, that is good for you, I think. And soon, you'll be fully retired; so your life will go back to the way it was, before I asked you to help me out." He smiled, "Oh, I do not mind, not really. It keeps me occupied. If you did not keep me busy, I do believe one day you would find me on the floor, doing cross-word puzzles—and you know how I hate cross-word puzzles."

I laughed again, "I see...." He smirked, standing. Nadir reached across the table, taking my teacup. "Are you joining me for lunch?" I thought about it, "I'd like that." "You mean you'd like to eat my cooking." He commented. "I would like the company!" I protested. He sighed, smiling, "Well, come on, then." Nadir walked towards the kitchen. I had no choice but to follow.

Christine

Rehearsal had almost reached the lunch break—I could not wait!

If I had thought that the rehearsal with Erik was stressful; this one was twenty times more so! It was full of Carlotta's drama, and her screechy high notes which were almost drowned out by the chorus. The chorus was, to be honest, not too horrid or screechy. They weren't superb, but they would have to suffice.

The dancing, I thought, was lovely and well-choreographed. Erik, of course, would not think that. How would most-likely say the dancing was a lamentable mess. However, I suspected even he wouldn't complain too much; after all, they were doing their very best—sorry as their best was. The only exception, in my opinion, was Meg. I thought she was a superb dancer, and deserved all the credit she got. Erik had other views—"She can do so much better!" He would say; or, "She is not even trying hard!"

I let him have his opinions, so long as he let me have mine.

"Miss Daaé, I know this is trying; but please, focus!" M. Reyer jerked me out of my musings. Carlotta smirked and muttered, none to quietly, "I would pay attention if I were Aminta." "Yes, M. Reyer—I'm sorry. What was the last line said?" I asked. I knew the whole play backwards and forwards. "We were talking with Don Juan—your first meeting." I grinned, and said the line that was next, displaying—perfectly—the stage directions that were needed. Reyer gave me a look of approval. Carlotta's expression was dumbfounded. I smirked at her, "I bet you would have known that, right?" She made a horrible face at me, and I smirked.

"All right, everyone. I think that is enough for now. I expect you all back here at two." I sighed, stepping off the stage. "Christine, will you join me for lunch?" Meg asked, looping her arm through mine. I smiled gratefully at her, "I would be delighted!" "Shall we go to the Café near the Opera House?" "The one I love so much?" I asked hopefully. Meg looked playfully at me, "Is there any other?" I hugged my friend, and we moved off.

"Christine! May I speak with you a moment?" I heard Raoul's voice call as we nearly exited the Opera House. I sighed, "Ignore him, please. Maybe he'll go away..." Meg laughed, waggling her eyebrows at me, grinning wickedly.

"Christine! Oh, do wait!" I gritted my teeth, "We had better wait and see what he wants. He'll not stop unless we do." Meg laughed, and we stopped moving, waiting for him to catch up. Shortly, he was with us. "Christine, may I speak with you alone?" "Whatever you want to say to me, you may say to Meg, also. She is my very dear friend." Raoul looked uncomfortable, "Well, this is on a very personal and dear matter, and I would wish to speak with you alone.........Ah, well...." He looked very uncomfortable again. "May I speak with you, alone, after the maiden-performance of Don Juan Triumphant?" I pretended to think, "Oh, I suppose that I could speak with you...." He brightened, trying to maneuver himself so he could kiss my hand. However; I saw through this and stepped back, linking my arm through Meg's, and smiling at Raoul emptily. We turned breezily, and walked out of the Opera House.

"Oh, he wants to propose to you!" Meg laughed once we were out of earshot. "I know," I said grimly, "Any chance lightning will strike him, and he'll forget me?" She laughed loudly, "I doubt it. That man is persistent!" I grimaced, "Yes, I know." She looked at me oddly, "You do not enjoy his advances? Truly?" I looked at my feet, then back at her, "I find them nuisances." She laughed, "And I know why!" She grinned slyly at me, as we sat down in the Café.

"Two cups of coffee with milk, and three spoons of sugar, and—What do you want Christine?" Meg looked at me. "I'll have a chicken salad." "And two chicken salads!" Meg announced to the waitress. Once she was gone, Meg turned to me with a smirk.

"So, when is your lover—The Phantom of the Opera—going to propose to you—if he hasn't already...." I blushed, "Erik is not my lover......and he hasn't proposed." "But you want him to?"

I looked down at my hands as the waitress brought our drinks and food. "I don't know........." She made a face at me, "How can you not know? Do you love him?" "Um.....I do not know....." She sat back in her seat, exasperated, "How do you not know? You must know if he makes you gloriously happy or not!" "He makes me extremely, gloriously happy, Meg......" She grinned, "You feel safe with him, right?" "Of course I do!" "And you adore being around him, yes?" I looked down at the bowl, "I hate being separated from him."

She giggled, grinning. I swatted at her arm.

Meg leaned in, a wicked smile on her lovely face, "Do you want him?" I dropped my cup on the table with a clatter. "Meg! how can you even hint at such things?! How scandalous you are!" She grinned wickedly, "I am, aren't I?" I swatted at her arm, as she looked mock annoyed, "But that is not the point! You didn't answer my question! Do.....You....Want.....Erik?" I blushed, trying to focus on my food. "Don't act all naïve and unworldly. I know you're a woman, and you have passions, just like everyone else. Do. You. Want. Him?" I pillowed my head in my arms, and looked up at her. "I don't know..........I feel like my true feelings are hidden from me; like there is a veil masking what I feel, and I only get brief flashes of what is hidden underneath." Meg gave me a scandalous face, "What is underneath, then?" "Didn't you hear a word I said? I don't know?" She laughed, "Oh, you will......Soon enough!"

I crossed my arms over my chest, "What is that supposed to mean? Meg, are you hiding things from me, your best friend?" She giggled, "I'll not tell you!"

After we finished our food, and payed; we headed back to the Opera House, careful to avoid Raoul, and Carlotta.

Erik

"That was simply charming, Nadir. You must know I enjoy your company?" Nadir looked at me, shocked, "What—The Phantom admitting that he enjoys the company of his greatest annoyance?" I gave him a withering look, "You've always known I enjoy your company!" "Do I?"

I grimaced at his teasing, "You do." "Ah, how The Phantom has changed! You would never have admitted that before Christine!" I thought about that—it was true, indeed. "I suppose so...." "What do you mean 'I suppose so' ? It's true, Erik!" I shook my head, sighing, "Oh, all right, then! So what if it is true? Are you not happy I am admitting it at all?" "You are very touchy, Erik. You needn't be, you know. Not every one wants to kill you." I laughed sardonically, "Did you not want to kill me once?" He grimaced, "That was a long time ago, Erik. Things have changed since then." "That may be, but who is to say you do not change your mind, and want to kill me again?" I winced as I heard how weak that sounded. He sighed, "Ah, Erik, I'm sorry.......Why do we set each other on edge, do you suppose?" I sat down again, "I know not.......Though it is not always that we try to kill each other, not now anyway...." He laughed, "You were the one who always tried to do the killing—don't deny it, Erik." "And you did not want to the same—to kill me—albeit secretly, and as a better kept desire?" I asked, an eyebrow raised. He laughed, "Ah, yes, that is only too true....." I grinned, "I annoyed you, and you annoyed me....." He laughed, "Again, I cannot deny that."

"Well, Nadir, thank you again. I believe that I should take my leave of you. Farewell, Nadir. It's been a rather lovely visit." He smiled genuinely, "I am glad to say the same. You'll visit again tomorrow, I guarantee it!" I made a face at him, but he only laughed, "Do not try denying it. I know you, and how you think—for the most part. You're overly worried, so you'll stress and obsess, and come to me again looking for more help. Then we'll have tea, and lunch."

Again, I made a face at him, but he ignored it. I sighed, "If you are right, I'll-I'll..........I'll make you a pie!" He made a horrified face, "I understand the sentiment—and thank you for that—but there is no way I will ever receive a pie—or any baked good, for that matter—of yours. I remember the time you were fifteen and wanted one of my cherry pies, but I was out of the house and there were no pies left, so you tried to make one yourself. I don't want a repeat of that incident, thank you."

I flushed. He was right—my attempt at the cherry pie had been badly mixed, soggy, bland, and—to top it off—burnt.

The ingredients were not written down, so I improvised with them. When I had all the things I thought I'd need in a bowl; I was not entirely sure what to do with them, so I shook the bowl twice, before trying to spin it around with my finger. Only later on did I learn I needed to mix the things with a wooden spoon until the mixture was smooth. I hadn't made the pie crust right, either; so it ended being soggy. I had to substitute the cherries for custard—which I did not make right; and I did not know how long to put the pie in. At the time; two hours seemed like a proper amount of time, so I waited for two hours, letting it cook.

"I was lucky you didn't burn the house down, Erik."

I laughed, "So was I. I have learned that when it comes to baking, I am quite out of my depth, unless I have someone willing to help me." He laughed, "I thought you thought there was nothing you couldn't do?" I rolled my eyes, "When did I say that?" "Only about twenty times a day for most of your life." I snorted, "Well, I had better be going, hadn't I?" He smiled, "Perhaps....I'll see you tomorrow, Erik. Until then, farewell."

I waved goodbye to Nadir, as I turned, heading towards home.

Hopefully Christine would be home soon.....

Christine

I sighed, trying desperately to stay focused. Oh, this rehearsal truly was tiring! What could I do, but pay attention and try to make the rehearsal go more smoothly!

I spun in the correct fashion, as the role demanded. "All right, everyone! I want us all to stop and try to put the scenery together!" We all halted, and stared at M. Reyer. "You want us to do the stage-hand's job?" Carlotta screeched. For once I agreed with her. We were actors, not stage hands. What was Reyer thinking? I had no objections to helping, but it was so odd a request!

"Ah, yes, well; I sent them home by mistake, so we need to do this ourselves..." Reyer looked embarrassed. "You WHAT?"Carlotta screeched, stepping close to him and pressing her face close to his. "WE donna' do things like this, Understand?! This issa notta my job!" She turned at us, "I cannot stay in a place where all has gone to—" She swore in her native language, stamping her heeled feet. "You must understand that—" M. Reyer interjected, looking stresssed. "No! You must understand that I DO NOT DO These things!" With that sentence, she stamped her way off the stage, with Piangi in her wake. Reyer sank down to the floor, "What are we going to do without her?" I took pity on M. Reyer, and walked over to him, "La Carlotta will return. Let me help you up." I pulled him to his feet, looking at the others who were left. "We'll help you, won't we?" The others, looking determined, nodded. M. Reyer smiled at me, "Thank you, Mille Daaé." I smiled at him, "You are most welcome."

Piangi came into the room, and quietly stepped onto the stage. "She won't come back....I think I can convince her to comma' tomorrow...." He looked sheepish, and stepped to his place softly. Reyer coughed, "Well, that's fine. She's not needed, anyway, now. You must make her come tomorrow, though." Piangi nodded, "That I can do." "Well, let's get back to work—we'll be finished soon!" Reyer announced.

"We've past the point of no return!" Piangi and I sang, finishing our circling duet at the end of what was supposed to be a hallway. My outer layers had slowly been pulled off, leaving me in a little shift—well, that's what the audience was supposed to think. In truth, I was in a well-made dress of soft mesh fabric around my shoulders, a satiny yellow bust, and a soft, velvety, dark amber skirt. There was a rose just above my bosom, a bright dusky red one—like the ones Erik grew in the garden, only this one was cloth. Don Juan touched my cheek, our chests heaving from singing. "Come here, My Aminta..." Piangi said in what he probably thought was a sultry, suave, and seductive whisper. I, however, knew otherwise. His voice was watered down and washed out in comparison to Erik.

I walked forward, as if in a trance, towards Piangi's beckoning gloved hand. His face was full of what he probably thought was lust as I advanced and he slowly retreated. Our dance was revived, albeit in a different manner.

Then Passirino, pretending to be Don Juan, entered; slamming the door like the crack of doom. I turned at the sound, flinching at the noise. Then I jumped backwards, seeking comfort in "Passarino's" embrace. Piangi's arms wrapped around me, one hand at my waist, the other just below my neck. "Come, Aminta, we must away before the master catches us; come, to my room, we'll be safe there!" he chuckled, like he was supposed to, despite himself. I shivered, letting him lead me towards Aminta's doom.

"All right, then! Move it to the next scene, then!" Reyer called as we headed in the room.

The scenery was moved around, and soon; the door of Don Juan's house, and his bedroom window, came into view. I moved into position, just behind the door, as Piangi waddled up the stairs. "Scene!" Reyer called. I opened the door; scurrying past, heading towards my gypsy camp. When I was nearly offstage; Don Juan's head poked out of the window, his face tortured. "Aminta," He cried, voice dripping with heartbreak, "I love you!"

"And that's curtain!" Reyer called, grinning. I stepped offstage, sighing. "Well, thank you everybody for coming! That was a spectacular rehearsal with all the expected bumps! Come here tomorrow at three for the last rehearsal!" I sighed again, relieved. "Goodbye all!" I called, air kissing everyone.

I ran down the halls as fast as I could, to my dressing room. Once inside; I ran to the mirror, opened it, and dashed down the path towards home. Once at the lake, I hopped in the boat, nearly capsizing it. I sighed, trying to calm myself. Once my breathing was fairly steady, I rowed as fast as possible to the shore of home. I got out of the boat, wrenching the door open. I dashed inside, slamming the door closed. I sighed, resting against the door. Erik came around the corridor, an eyebrow raised, "Why were you running, Christine?" "I could not wait to come home, and see you." I answered, launching myself into his strong arms. He laughed, spinning me around in circle. I giggled, and he grinned, before kissing my nose and cheeks. "That is a wonderful way to say 'welcome home'." I giggled, and he kissed me full on the mouth. "I'll do the same thing—every day—so long as you continue to come home to me." He smiled, setting me down. I blushed, smiling, "Of course, Erik! I don't think I'll ever want to leave you."

Erik

I stared at her flushing face for a moment after she said that. My jaw felt like it was dropped. She never wanted to leave me!

Could that perhaps mean she loved me?

Could it?

Christine blushed when she caught me staring. "What is the matter, Angel?" I shook my head, slowly placing the mask on the table in the kitchen where we were sitting. She smiled broadly once my mask was off, and picked at the food I'd placed on the table. "Are you not hungry, Christine?" I asked, concerned. She smiled, "No, no, I'm just tired. That rehearsal was completely exhausting!" She looked at me pleadingly, "Would you mind rehearsing me tomorrow? I do not have to be at rehearsal until three. You could rehearse me from when we get up, until one-thirty?" She offered, looking hopeful. I sighed, "How can I disappoint such a face? Of course we can rehearse tomorrow, love. We'll rehearse tomorrow after we get up and have breakfast." She beamed after sighing. "Well, come, let us eat. I need my songbird to keep up her strength." She laughed, "Oh, if you insist!" I grinned, "I do."

And soon, perhaps, I will ask you—my songbird, my angel, my life—to marry me....

And, perhaps, you will agree....

Christine,

I love you.....