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Every day before and after lessons, I dutifully traveled down to the opera catacombs to bring supplies and company to Erik. The genius that he was, he had begun composing an opera, and had transformed the eerie grotto into a livable and quite magical place.

One day, about three weeks since we had first met, I went to his home and Erik was no where to be found. "Erik?" I called, pushing away a piece of old scenery to journey down a dark tunnel he had found with me a few days before. "Erik?"

There was only silence. 'Erik?" I tried again, continuing on the damp path. Fear was starting to invade my senses, and I shivered. "Erik?" I began shaking uncontrollably; yet I had to keep walking. There was a loud creak that echoed off the stony walls and I whirled about, but nothing was there. "Erik!?!" I cried, my voice shooting through two octaves.

Suddenly I was grabbed from behind, a gloved hand muffling my scream of terror.

"Shush!" He hushed me, spinning me to face him. 'It's me, ma petite moineau, Erik!"

After my pulse had stopped racing and I could breathe once more, Erik led me back to the grotto. I was still terrified so I held onto his strong arm for dear life, my eyes shut tight.

"Why did you try to find me, Christine?" he questioned softly, stroking my hair with a comforting, yet hesitant hand. "when you are obviously so frightened of the darkness?

"B-because," I opened my eyes. "I was worried about you. I-I don't like it when you're by yourself, with no one beside you. I c-can't bear it when you seem so lonely."

Erik was quiet. We walked on for a few more paces. Then he spun me once more so that my back was to the wall, his tall, lean form in front of mine. "Christine..." his voice was thick with emotion and, whether he was going for it or not, undeniably seductive. "I know I just met you less than a month ago. I am only seventeen, and you are younger than me, even. But I...I cannot allow you to be allured by some rich, good-looking noble's son who will never appreciate you, how amazing and unique you are, and your musical prowess. I cannot-" he broke off, shaking, "I will not stand by idly, lurking in the shadows as I am doomed to do, while you are taken from me." His eyes were desperate. "I love you, Christine Daae. I need you with me, to love, to cherish, to create the music only we can create. I can't promise a simple, easy life, but I can promise a life with everlasting care and devotion from me."

I was speechless. He was right, it was soon, but was it really? What if this was something like Shakepeare's Romeo and Juliet? What if this was something real, something sweeping and true, something beyond either of our control?

As I pondered this, I discovered something as well. I did care for Erik, deeply and unshakably. But did I love him? As I thought back to what had occurred this night, I realized. Yes, yes I did, much more than anyone or anything I had ever known.

"Erik," I gazed up at him, touching my small hand to his bare cheek. "I love you too."

If one could bottle all the happiness in the world, and Erik had drunk from it, his face would not have been as jubliant, as joyous as it was now. We held each other close, too happy to speak. Then, slowly, Erik leaned down to tenderly kiss me. Passion burned in our lips, and we kissed urgently and deeply. My arms twined themselves around his neck. Caught up in the heat of that moment of bliss, I slipped my hand underneath his mask and tossed it to the floor. Erik froze and drew back, a hand over the right side of his face.

"No!" I cried, taking his wrist and attempting to move it back to my waist. "It's alright, Erik, I prefer you this way."

He looked at me incrediously, his hand still clamped on the side of his head. "Christine, every chance that I can spare you the sight of this, I will take. Hand me my mask, ma cherie." (A/N: "ma cherie" means something along the lines of "my love" in English. Just fyi.)

I sighed and did as I was told. "Erik, I love you. You don't have to hide from me."

He fastened it on, ignoring my words.

I carressed his hair, his face. "Let me love you, and love me in return. That's all I ask of you, Erik."

He ran his smouldering emerald eyes over my features. "Alright," he murmured, and I kissed him fiercely.

Our hands moved all over each other's bodies with gentle, loving touches. I slid my hand under his mask again, and he whimpered slightly. "All I ask of you," I reminded him breathlessly, casting his white leather barrier aside.

Yay! Happy moment!

Unfortunately I am going on Thanksgiving vacation so I can't update till next week. Sorry!

Don't own it. Wish I did.

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