Christine hurried into the boat quickly.

She had realized, less than an hour ago, that Raoul was the wrong one for her. She had been standing in front of the mirror in her white wedding gown. It was beautiful – she was beautiful – everyone said that she was beautiful – but she didn't notice. All she kept on wishing that she would suddenly see that familiar face materialize behind the mirror. She realized that she couldn't break Raoul's heart by seeing another face when she married him instead of his own.

Raoul had been a gentleman about the whole thing, she admitted that. He had been disappointed and Christine thought for a moment that she had seen a tear on his cheek, but then he said quietly, "Do as you feel you must, my darling."

And so there she was, making her way across to the Phantom's lair. Excitement bubbled within her. Her dear, beautiful Erik. She remembered the look on his face after she had kissed him that one eventful time. He looked like he had been touched by an angel. His smile, so overwhelmed with joy, had nearly melted her resolve right then. But, Raoul had been there that time – so handsome, so – so safe.

But she had realized that she didn't want safety. She wanted love – and to be loved for who she was. With Raoul, she would have always been considered "beneath him" by his friends. She would have had to give up singing. And to him – he would have always considered her "Little Lotte." She had been that as a child, and she cherished their friendship...But she was a woman now - and he was still stuck in the past.

Erik – he understood her, though. He understood how important it was for her to be standing there, on stage, and making beautiful music. He understood. He may look disfigured to some, but she had seen the look on his face when he sang, when he composed, when he played. It transformed him – it was enough to make even the random passerby stop with amazement.

To her, it was extraordinary. She barely recognized his looks now as being "un-normal." Every unexpected dip, bump – she loved them all. Because he had a heart of gold underneath. And, when he played, it was released to the world in the forms of shimmering vibrations. So when she looked at him in his glory, her knees went weak.

He was like that now. She gazed at him from the steps from which she had silently ascended. His back was to her, but she could see him rocking back and forth with emotion and passion.

She swallowed hard at the notes he played. They were beautiful, as always – but they had such a mournful quality to them now. It was a simple melody. Almost like a child's dance. But it tugged at her heart. She felt tears bordering on her eyes, just as there must have been on his as the chords suddenly swelled into great, heartbroken gales. She started towards him. She couldn't bear to hear this sadness that she had caused – she was his angel. She would bring him joy.

Suddenly, the music was silenced. Instead, the echoes of dry sobs echoed off of the walls. Erik had hunched over, his face in his hands, and was crying bitterly. As Christine grew close, she could hear him murmuring softly, "Christine…my angel…why…"

She timidly stretched her hand out and laid it upon his shoulder. With a gasp, he jumped up and whirled around. His eyes grew wide. His artist's fingers, long and white, clenched. Christine gazed at him with somethink akin to tortured pity: he was so thin, so white. Had he been starving himself?

The Phantom ran a hand over his face. "You..." Then, his shoulders slumped. He stared past her shoulder, gazing at that place at the grate. The place where his life had ended. "Such sweet sorrow..." he murmured. "That a muscian's heart would do such to himself..."

Christine bit her lip and looked up at him, gazing into his golden eyes. "Erik, it's me. Your angel of music. Love, I came back."

At that, the genius turned away from her. "No, no," he whimpered. "How can the mind be so cruel? Hell truly leaves no place for happiness for a demon like me."

At this, Christine frowned. She reached up and caressed his face, her left hand feeling the cold white leather of the mask. He flinched and shut his eyes tightly. "My poor Erik," she whispered. "What will it take for you to see me?"

He started to turn away with a weary sigh, the soft whoosh of his cape billowing around his ankles like a black thunderstorm already. In desperation, to end the anguish of his hollow voice, she did the only thing she could think of. She slowly peeled the mask away.

His eyes burst open as his hand automatically came up to cover his cheek.

Christine caught it and covered the side of his face with her own hand. "No, Erik," she said. "Stop hiding behind your memories. Wake up. The music of the night is over, but the music of dawn has arrived. I've gone past my point of no return - and I have decided to be with you." She stared into his emotionless eyes. "Angel, I'm here! You don't have to drown yourself in pain anymore." She slowly removed her hand.

Erik still made no move. His expression was one of tortured shock. "Christine...you had everything. Go...don't... " He swallowed. "Don't do this to me. I'm still despicable. Despite the image I've created...I'm still this under the mask! You can't...you can't bond yourself to me."

"Angel, I came back to be with you. Can't you see that? I love you, Erik. Not the mask, not the body that you think is so repulsive – I love your heart."

He began to shake. "Christine."

She leaned up and brushed her mouth against his. They were suddenly moistened as she felt a tear slip down his face. She smiled slightly against his lips and gently ran her hands through his silky hair. "I'm yours."

Erik broke away for a moment, then sobbed dryly one more time and captured her lips passionately with his. She found herself clenched to him in a vice grip, felt him shaking as he kissed her. She surrendered herself to him.

When he finally broke away from her, chest heaving against hers, he stared down at her. Christine gently pushed him back down onto the seat before his organ. Carefully clearing away a stack of note-filled music paper, she sat down next to him. She saw the crystal ring she had given him - was it only a week ago? it seemed so long without Erik there - on the organ shelf and held it in her palm. She stood up and entwined her hands with his. "Erik, I don't want to be with you just for a few weeks." She took a deep breath. "If you want me...That is, if you still..."

He pulled her tightly to him and rested his head upon her breast. "Christine, would you?" he said in a voice rough with emotion.

Christine smiled at him and leaned down to kiss him again. "With all my heart. Angel, I want to make music with you forever. Will you help me make our song take flight?"

Hope you enjoyed!

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