The Bridge is Crossed
It took her weeks to find where he was hiding. No one found the ghost when he didn't want to be found, and years later Christine would reflect that she probably only found him once he realized she was looking and allowed her to know.
It was dark that night – a new moon, and Christine could barely see where she was going. The forest clearing was utterly silent, but she knew he was there. She'd always been able to feel him even when she couldn't see him behind her mirror, and the prickling along the back of her neck told her he was near.
"Why did you come, Christine?" his voice was quiet. Flat. It nearly broke her heart, although she didn't know why.
"I... I had to see you," she heard a sigh, "The way things ended..."
There was a long silence, and she thought for a moment he had left. A horrible feeling rose in her that it was a bad idea to come here, and tears stung her eyes as she turned around.
The hand that grabbed her wrist was tight, but she didn't struggle. In fact, Christine felt relief and she turned around slowly, feeling how close he suddenly was.
"Why did you really come, Christine?"
She couldn't see, and instinct told her to press closer, to seek out protection. Perhaps too close, she realized, as she felt his breath on her forehead and was suddenly aware of the warmth of his body. They had been this close before on the stage, but this felt different. He didn't recoil from her touch now, although she swore she heard his breath hitch as she tilted her head up.
"I don't know. I think I chose... I needed –" as his hand tightened reflexively on her wrist, she felt his other hand slowly caress her cheek. It was then that she felt a jolt in her stomach, and her breath quickened, her chin tilting infinitesimally. "I missed you."
Later she couldn't be exactly sure which one of them moved first. Maybe they both did at the same time. Either way, their lips met with a frantic need that shook Christine and stole her breath. Their first – and last – kiss had been loving, meant to seal their future. This was something new – it was pure, unadulterated passion.
And suddenly Christine understood those lyrics she had sung what seemed like ages ago. When will the flames at last consume us? Maybe she even whispered it out loud – he groaned her name, and she knew in that moment she was lost.
Her hands were frantic as she pushed the coat over his shoulders and reached for his shirt buttons, and he hesitated only for a brief moment before she felt him reach for the strings of her dress. Neither one was entirely aware of their actions, but later Christine remembered confessing things no decent girl should ever admit to (I do want you – I've always wanted you), and she knew he spoke words in her ear that would have seemed inappropriate in the light but now – in the dark – made her clutch at his shoulders and pull him to the ground with her.
It was like nothing she had ever felt before, Christine thought, and she had never believed she could feel so amazingly alive. The heat of her burning skin, the sensation of his mouth upon her own and then slowly moving down her throat made her gasp his name and as they both clung to each other at the end she swore she saw stars.
Afterwards, when she was breathing heavily and flushed with exertion, she considered that proper ladies didn't do this sort of thing. But she really couldn't bring herself to care. Nothing had ever felt so incredibly right before. So it was that she heard Erik's murmured words of love and his astonished gasp as she reached for him and pulled him back to her. In this moment she realized what it truly meant to feel love and passion for another person, and if she couldn't find the right words to tell him right now then she would show him.
Again and then again.