(A/N: Woohoo! More updates! This is DEFINITELY my favorite so far... and you guys who've been following it will love it too, I think. Jess is my hero and made this update as hot as it is... so YAY JESS! Enjoy, haha!)

Suddenly, Christine couldn't remember where she was. Her senses were slowly coming back to her as she laid down with her eyes softly shut. After about a minute, she was able to recognize the voice that was singing to her.

She let her eyes flutter open and smiled, seeing that her Angel of music was sitting by her bedside. He looked completely different than she remembered him; he looked like he'd been through a lot in the past year. He had terrible bags under his eyes as if he hadn't slept in weeks and his hair was rugged and loose; a complete turnaround from his usually combed and neat jet black hair.

The phantom no longer looked so threatening; he'd obviously been affected by his change in lifestyle. When he noticed that she'd awoken, he stopped singing. Christine's eyes immediately drifted to the uncovered mutations that spread across the right side of his face and he timidly lifted a hand to block it from her view.

Christine realized that she must've dropped his mask when she fainted earlier, but after a moment of looking at his face once again, she realized that maybe it was for the best. She recalled the dreadful night when she'd last seen him, remembering how he'd changed his ways to let her marry Raoul no matter how much he hated to see her go. Those final minutes with him gave her a new perspective on his unfortunate circumstances; he was no longer a deformed monster in her eyes, but a real person with feelings. It didn't take her long after that to realize that she'd made a mistake.

"No... it's alright, Angel," she said, parting from her memories. She slowly sat up and reached for the hand that covered his face, placing her hand gently over it.

But he couldn't bring himself to remove his hand. The last time she'd seen his face, Christine left him forever and he was forced to retreat here... to this slimy sewer of a home. However, the longer her soft hand touched his, the more he wanted to surrender to this beautiful woman he'd fallen in love with so long ago.

Christine kept her hand on his, determined to get him to move it from his face. She pulled slightly on it, but he stopped her. "Please don't." He told her. His eyes pleaded with her silently.

"Why?" She asked him softly.

"I'm hideous." He said it softly, his eyes down towards the ground, his voice shaking slightly. She would regret it, he thought. No one was ever okay with his face, no one had ever loved him and looked at him as though he was a human being. Why should Christine be any different? They all wanted to know, needed to see what was behind the mask, and once they did they would run. That was how it had always been. He closed his eyes and held his hand firmly against his face.

"No." Christine said. She squeezed his hand tightly. She waited for a response, but there was none, his eyes remained closed, his head down. "You're not." She removed her hand from his and brought it below his chin, lifting his head up. He opened his eyes. "You're beautiful." She whispered. And with that she removed his hand from his face and took it into her own.

Their eyes connected. "You're beautiful." She repeated. His eyes brimmed with tears. Christine smiled at him softly. She brought his hand to her lips and kissed it gently before releasing it. She expected him to cover his face again, but he didn't. Instead he sat in stunned silence, tears running down his face.

Christine's expression softened as she saw that yet again, she'd gotten to him. It seemed as if every time she made him feel even the slightest bit good about himself, he couldn't keep from crying. She felt terrible, having this effect on him but was determined to get him feeling more comfortable nonetheless.

Leaning closer to him, Christine reached up to gently wipe the tears from his eyes. As soon as he realized what she was about to do, he backed away from her touch. "Angel, I'm not going to hurt you..."

"When are you going to realize it, Christine! You've already hurt me... more than anyone ever has!" he raised his voice, standing up and backing away from her.

"...What?" Christine said quietly, gazing at him with her big brown eyes. She had no idea what he was talking about. "Angel, I..."

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!"

Silencing herself, Christine sat there and looked at the Phantom. He'd gone from being so sensitive and emotional to defensive and agressive, so she thought it best to let him calm down on his own.

"Why did you come back here! What made you think that you can just barge right back into my life when you had everything going for you!" He yelled.

Christine barely whispered, afraid to anger him even more, "I... I missed you..."

The Phantom had now turned away from her, but she could see from behind that he was carefully planning his next verbal attack. She affected him more than she could ever know. He slowly turned back around again, looking at this amazing girl who'd obviously given up everything she had to be with him. And his mind couldn't seem to process why in the hell anyone would give up their perfect fairytale ending to be with him.

He took a deep breath and sat back down on the bed, his back towards her. Neither of them spoke for awhile. Christine simply stared at his back, wondering whether he would lash out at her if she was to speak again. A time or two she made to reach out and touch his shoulder, but thought better of it and returned her hand carefully to her lap.

"Erik." He said finally. He turned slightly so he could look at Christine's face.

"What?" She asked him softly. He raised his head up slightly to catch Christine's eyes with his own.

"My name. It's Erik." Christine smiled.

"Erik." She tested it out. She moved closer to him, chancing finally to touch him. She placed her hand on his own which was on his lap. "It suits you."

Neither of them dared to speak or move; neither of them wanted to endanger the connection that was quickly forming between them. Christine breathed slowly and shallowly, watching Erik's eyes closely for any sign of discomfort, but there was none. Her thumb moved gently across his hand and his eyes broke from hers to look down to the place where their skin was touching. He spread his fingers out, interlocking them with Christine's.

She remembered that his hands had been cold before, but now that wasn't the case. His fingers were warm and soft against her own and Christine let her own gaze trail down to their hands as well. She wondered how something so simple, so innocent as holding hands, could be creating such a charge between them. After all, she thought, she held hands with Raoul everday, but it was never like this. Carefully, as not to scare Erik, Christine brought her free hand to his face, touching his deformed skin. He flinched slightly, but her touch was so soft, so gentle that he had no reason to fear her.

His skin was rough and strange against her fingers, but she didn't mind. Her fingers traced the contours of his face, memorizing every line. There was nothing frightening about him now, he was so vulnerable, so undeniably human that she wondered how she'd ever doubted it, how she could've ever been afraid of this man. Her eyes flickered innocently to his lips and she noticed how different they were from the rest of his face. So soft, so innocently untouched; except by herself. She thought back to the night she'd left him, to the kiss they shared. As mad at him as she'd been, as afraid for Raoul's life and her own, she had never been able to deny the feelings she got from kissing him. There was no comparison. No matter how many times she'd kissed Raoul, no matter how intimately, it couldn't ever compare to the gentle and innocent way Erik had kissed her.

And then Christine found that her eyes were fixed on those lips. Her fingers ran across them gently. They were as soft as she'd remembered. As she touched them, Erik gripped her hand tighter and took in a sharp breath of air. Christine's gaze went immediately to his eyes and she found that his were already fixated on her. There was a dark passion in them, one she'd only ever seen in him when he was playing his music. The thought of it sent chills up and down her spine. There was nothing he loved more than his music, he craved it in a way that should've been sinful and yet, he craved her just as much. Christine shut her eyes momentarily, trying to regain composure, but it was impossible. He craved her. It was imprinted in her brain now, there was no denying it, she needed to feel it all again, that connection. She licked her lips absentmindedly and slowly closed her eyes and leaned in towards him.

(A/N: Don't ya love us? Review and maybe we'll update soon!)