Christine traveled all the way down to the lake. She glanced across the lake and saw light. Looking around, she saw no sign of the boat that her angel had once taken her across the lake in. There was only one way to get across. Christine lifted her skirts and stepped into the lake. She carefully walked through the water, trying her best to not get the skirts wet. She finally got across the lake after much struggling. Christine gazed around at the lair. It was littered with shredded papers, a bit of broken glass, and miscellaneous items that once stood in their homes on the furniture. She let her gaze travel farther and she saw her angel with his head on the organ, asleep. Christine slowly padded over to the organ, but before she was within reach of him, a certain paper caught her eye on the floor. She bent down and picked up a torn piece of sheet music. "For Her" was written in black ink on the top. Christine studied the composition briefly.

"The day starts,

the day ends,

time crawls by..."

A groggy, husky voice startled Christine.

"What are you doing here?!" Her angel growled, quickly getting up from the organ.

She turned to him, frightened. Her angel ripped the sheet music from her grasp and quickly put it on the organ.

"You must go," he said, his back hunched over slightly and turned from her. "Now."

Christine stood frozen for a moment, then finally she found her voice. "Why are you here, my Angel?" she asked, concerned. Where did he go while the Opera House was burning? Why had he returned? "They'll find you and kill you for sure!"

Her Angel turned to her, his eyes dark. "Having them kill me would be better than having to live this life any longer."

Christine's face saddened as the strings that held her heart together began to break. Her Angel turned from her again. She took a careful step towards him. "Monsieur, please," she says, he voice breaking. "I have made my choice."

Her Angel turned to her. "Are you here to rub it in my face? This face, the distorted face of the monster you fooled with your games? I know you've made your choice. You chose that boy! That... That insolent boy!"

He turned from her again and leaned on the organ, his hands balled into fists near his temples. Christine took another step closer to him.

"No! I chose you, my angel, you know that!"

Her Angel growled in frustration. "You chose him, Christine!" he yelled.

Christine began to lose her patience. She stomped her foot like a child. "I chose you, my Angel, but you turned me away!" she yelled back.

Christine fought back the tears that were forming beneath her chocolate irises. Her Angel turned slowly to her, remembering the night before this.

"After I kissed you, I wanted to tell you that I chose you over Raoul, but I never got the chance. The next thing I knew, you were yelling at us to leave you and Raoul was pulling me away," Christine spoke softly, her words floating through the air like a feather. "Angel of Music... I loved you..." she said in a half whisper.

He looked at her, his lips parting as he exhaled. Christine took this opportunity to step closer to him and press her parted lips to his. Her hands lay on either side of his face, one hand curving over the cheek of his mask. He stood frozen for a moment, shocked that this was actually happening. Christine, his Christine, had returned to him! And now she was here, kissing him! His hands went to her waist, gently bunching up the loose fabric of the dress in his hands. His body trembled as the power of Christine's lips coursed through him. She pressed herself to him and his heart pounded in his chest. Christine's lips left her Angel's and pressed against his ear.

"I love you, my Angel. Would you tell me your name?"

The man before her tensed and choked up an answer. "Erik," he said quietly.

Christine smiled and looked at him, her chocolate irises gazing into his golden ones. "I love it," she said, kissing him again.

This kiss was more powerful, more heated. They kissed and kissed for what seemed like hours. Erik fought back the urge to touch Christine more, for he knew that if he did, he would not be able to stop himself. It was hard to keep his aching body under control, and Christine was not making it easy for him. Her hands traveled from his face to his neck and chest. She pulled her lips from his as her fingers laid on the buttons of his loose shirt.

"Erik... I want you to be the first man to bed me," she said, her eyes once again locking on his.

His heart lurched in his chest, his body freezing. "C-Christine..." he said, his lip quivering.

Before he could speak, she claimed his lips again. She began to unbutton his shirt remove it, exposing his bare chest. Erik knew that she would not let him reject her, and he had no plans on doing so. He picked her up and carried her to his small makeshift bed, laying her on it and climbing on top of her. She gazed up at him and saw the slight fear in his eyes.

"Erik... I trust you," she said, giving him a reassuring smile.

His hands slowly made their way to her bodice as he undid her dress, pulling it off of her. He noticed that it was very big on her. It seemed that the Vicomte couldn't even buy her a dress that fit her properly. Erik kept his thoughts about Raoul to himself as he untied Christine's corset. He tried to hide his blush as he saw what was before him. An angel sent from God above, dressed in a sheer chemise and bloomers. Her chocolate curls cascaded across his pillow and her cheeks turned a light pink color.

"Christine... there has never been a sight more beautiful than you," he said, his heart filling with joy.

Christine grinned and touched his face. She slowly began to remove his mask, but Erik grabbed her hand. She looked at him and nodded, giving his unmasked cheek a kiss. He sighed and let her take it off. She smiled and gazed at his face.

"No Erik. The most beautiful sight in the world is you."

That night, Erik took Christine as his, claiming every last inch of her. When they had finished, he lay beside her. Christine immediately curled up to his chest, kissing his collarbone lightly. "Welcome home, my love," Erik whispered. Christine's heart fluttered in her chest. She was finally home.

Erik awoke early the next morning, gazing at Christine. She was still there! He smiled and sat up. His smile quickly faded. One Christine's finger was the Vicomte's ring. Erik's heart sunk to his stomach. She was still marrying him. Why had she slept with him, then?! She was not the type of girl to sleep with another man while she was engaged! Erik panicked and stood, quickly dressing himself. He had to leave. As much as it hurt him to do so, he had to. He would flee from Paris before she even awoke. He would leave her to a life of protection and love from the Vicomte. She deserved everything he would provide to her. Erik gathered his music and took one last look at Christine. Oh, how he loved her. Why did life have to be this way? He put his mask back on and quickly disappeared.

When Christine woke up in his bed, she knew something was not right. Where was Erik? She stood and looked around.

"Erik?" She called.

He was nowhere. She searched the entire lair, calling his name over and over. When she found him to be gone, she collapsed to the floor in a state of heartbreak. Tears filled her palms as she sobbed his name. How could he leave her? Didn't he love her? She rose from the floor and dressed herself, grabbing her satchel and making her way back through the water. What would she tell Raoul? She had been gone the whole day and night. He would surely be suspicious of her. Especially since she said she was going to see Madame Giry and collect some things before the wedding... the wedding! She was supposed to be marrying Raoul today! Christine panicked and ran out of the catacombs and to the de Changy mansion.