Erik gazed at the sleeping face of the woman in his arms. Her lovely, expressive eyes were closed gently and her curls shadowed one of them. He fondly recalled the passionate kisses that she had peppered all across his face the night before. He loved how she hadn't paid any more attention to one side of his face than the other; neither avoiding the damaged side, nor overcompensating for its ugliness and smothering it. In fact, it was almost as though she didn't realize it was there.

Where had he found such an angel? Erik had been so afraid that this belle would leave him when given the chance to, but she had rejected that other rich boy yesterday, and remained in the Lair with Erik. What had possessed her to do such a thing? Erik worriedly considered pinching his arm for fear that his lovely night of passion had been a fantasy or hallucination. He made a vow to himself that if this was indeed a cruel figment of his imagination, that life wasn't worth living without that feeling of completion, imagined or not. Erik squeezed his eyes shut and pinched his arm. He winced. He was definitely not dreaming. The gorgeous girl of his obsessions was truly lying peacefully in the arms of the infamous Phantom of the Opera.

That being established, Erik reverted back to reminiscing about the night before. Her innocence was apparent by the virgin blush that dusted her face and chest. She was at first ashamed by her nakedness, but a few reassurances went a long way and she allowed her hands to let go of the red silk sheets. As the smooth scarlet cascaded down her body (only pausing once to catch slightly on a well-formed breast), he felt himself unable to breathe. He didn't think he could touch this Aphrodite without being burned by her purity. He wasn't sure he was worthy to look upon her inexperienced form.

And then she'd asked "What about your clothes?" oh-so-innocuously. He was so entranced with her that he barely recalled disrobing and only awoke from his daze when they began kissing. She caught onto the motions quickly and before long they were lost in a sea of crimson silk. The details became vague after that and all that Erik could remember was the overwhelming feeling of her love and her body pulsing under and around him.

A small sigh came from next to him.

"Erik?" Christine mumbled sleepily.

"Yes, Angel?" Erik stroked her cheek softly. She rubbed her cheek against his chest for a moment and then abruptly sat straight up.

"You lied to me!" she said, eyes narrowed.

Alarmed, Erik tried to recall everything he'd whispered in her ear the night before to reassure himself they weren't, in fact, sweet nothings. Tendrils of cold fear swept through his stomach. Would he lose his beautiful angel again? What was she talking about? How would he survive without the torrid passion he knew dwelt within her?

Then she smiled softly at him; her grin containing a slight cheekishness. "You said either way I chose, I couldn't win."