A/N Song in here is called 'The Dark Waltz'. It's by Hayley Westenra.

xoxo

Chapter 4. An Unwanted Friendship.

A few days had passed.

Christine sat next to Erik whilst he played the piano, enjoying every minute next to him. At least when he was at his piano, he was comfortable around her. That reason alone became the reason why Christine asked him to play for her a lot. She even brushed her arm against his subtly… which he did not fail to notice. He just didn't realize it was because she loved him.

"Perhaps we can take a walk?" Christine asked as Erik finished the Moonlight sonata by Beethoven. She wanted to take a real walk with him this time, not a running away, crying and spilling your beans fest… like last time. Christine still felt embarrassed for that. Erik, of course, nodded his agreement, liking the idea of walking with her and perhaps slipping his hand into hers... Christine stood up and took his hand into hers, squeezing.

Both were happy. After the incident two weeks prior, Erik started to open up to her more. He went from being her Angel of Music, to a stranger, and finally to her friend. She now knew what he liked and didn't like; such as his opinions on songs, books and such. He taught her new things every day; from making certain dishes, to learning new languages. He seemed full of knowledge. The only topics that were totally unapproachable were his mask and past. And she accepted that. She had her share of things she didn't want to talk about either.

Erik knew even more about Christine then he did, when he was her Angel of Music. Not only did she talk about her times with her father, but all the things she enjoyed. She was a great fan of Bach's works.

As they walked along, they joked and she talked about her father. She was annoyed about the whole friendship thing. She loved him, and she knew it. She may have been scared of him during the years at the Opera House, but she felt she had finally grown up and accepted her feelings. She didn't want to be his friend. She wanted more. Erik on the other hand was glad they were at least friends. He loved her, and he knew it. He had loved her since the day he saw her at the Opera House, singing to herself. But he knew that her returning the same feelings was pushing it. She may have promised that she would never leave, but that didn't guarantee her love either. He would never quite understand why she chose him that day, but perhaps one day he would ask.

"Do you still like to sing?" Erik asked suddenly, picking a yellow rose from a tree and pushing it up to his nose and in taking its scent.

Flowers, especially roses, were such a beautiful creation. He could have sworn it was something made specially, by God. They were the most innocent creation on Earth. But when they wilted, it was as if the devil had touched it.

"What?" Christine asked half shocked. The last time she had sung was the night she left with Erik. Singing almost felt foreign to her now.

Memories of singing on the stage and feeling her Angel watch her, passed through her. She felt nostalgic for the times when she was young and innocent and just wanted to make her Angel happy.

"Do you still like to sing?" Erik repeated.

"Of course. I love it." she said looking down, embarrassed.

"Will you sing for me?" he asked her. He absolutely adored her voice, and wanted just a tiny piece of heaven.

Not only had Christine been blessed with outer and inner beauty, she had also been blessed with her innocence and talented voice. He sometimes wondered why though, some people were better off then others. How did God choose who? And better yet, why?

"I do-don't know." she stammered. She really didn't want to... but it could be nice.

"Please?" Christine looked up. Erik was looking at her in the way that caused her to feel like she was slowly being hypnotized by his eyes and voice.

"Alright," she relented after a few moments pause. "But what would I sing?"

"Anything. Just sing for me. I yearn to hear your voice." he implored.

Christine paused for a moment, trying to think of a song. She decided to sing the first song that came to mind. Something her dad had once sung when he was thinking of his deceased wife. She thought it to be very beautiful and sad at the same time.

"We are the lucky ones,

We shine like a thousand suns,

When all of the colours run together."

Christine started off a bit timid and hoarse sounding, but her voice eventually became louder and clearer. Erik smiled at her, encouraging her to continue. She was still just as beautiful as before, if not more.

For some reason, a picture of her singing this song when she was eight months pregnant with his child ran through his mind. It was almost so beautiful and perfect; he wanted to weep at the idea.

"I'll keep you company,

In one glorious harmony,

Waltzing with destiny forever."

Christine smiled at the words of the song, wishing them to be true. Perhaps.

"Dance me into the night,

Underneath the full moon shining so bright,

Turning me into light,

Time dancers whirling past,

I gaze through the looking glass,

And feel just beyond my grasp is heaven,"

Erik didn't recall ever hearing this song before. It was beautiful. Christine was his heaven, and was beyond his grasp. He was beginning to find it hard now, not to kiss her soft, moving lips. He found it to be a great temptation.

"Sacred geometry,

Where movement is poetry,

Visions of you and me forever."

The words began to die in Christine's mouth as Erik started to lean towards her. She was soon met with a light, but sweet kiss. She immediately returned it, shocked yet very happy. Erik began to run his tongue along the seam of her lip and it instantly opened to him, joining his tongue with hers.

Everything seemed to be going wonderful. Both were lost in the feel of each other's lips and forgot reality for just a few precious moments. But Erik seemed to remember the situation the two were in before they kissed, and broke apart.

Erik stood up abruptly. Christine sat there shocked, not quite sure what to do. "We should go, it's getting quiet late." he said hurriedly, running his hand through his hair in shock. He didn't wait for Christine to respond; instead he began to quickly stride toward the house, needing to get out of there as fast as humanly possible.

What have I done? He thought bitterly. Something that took years to build has been destroyed in the few seconds that I forgot who I was! It is over now.

Christine on the other hand, just sat there. After a long few pauses of silence, she began to cry. She was doomed. She was consumed with feelings of love for him, and was beginning to think that there was nothing here for her. He didn't appear to love her back.

She couldn't live with a man who didn't return the same feelings.

xoxo

Christine lay in bed, trying to sleep. Her thoughts were plagued with the kiss from before. She softly touched her lips with her fingers and traced them. They felt hot… and her stomach felt like it was in her throat. She tossed and turned, trying to force sleep upon herself when all she could think of was Erik.

Fed up of trying to sleep, she sat up and got up from her bed and went to the music room to play the piano for awhile. Music was wonderful for taking her mind off anything.

And it's only three in the morning, he'd be asleep. Her thoughts reasoned as she sat down on the bench and pushed her curly, brown locks from her face and behind her ears.

Truth be told, her and Erik hadn't spoken to each other since the kiss. Erik had gone immediately to his room afterwards… and had yet to come out. This saddened Christine immensely. He's become a stranger yet again.

Christine ran her fingers along the ivory keys, deep in thought. She began to play Beethoven's ninth symphony after a few moments, always having enjoyed that piece of music. She soon became absorbed and engrossed in the music, and forgot all about her problems... at least for now.

xoxo

Erik sat in his bedroom glaring into the fireplace. He'd been in that damn room for eight straight hours… basically staring at a damn wall. She's probably gone by now. His thoughts reasoned. Even that in itself was not a happy thought. He decided it was safe to leave what he now called his make shift prison cell. He was beginning to hate the world more than he had in his previous life before Christine.

Standing up, he stepped out of his room. He went to get something to eat, for he was starving. He grabbed the first thing he saw, bread. Then deciding that wine would be the perfect problem solver and would go well with the stale bread, he went into the cellar and fetched some red wine.

I shall drink my problems away. He declared as he came back and sat down and began to finish off the bottle's contents and eat his bread. Once finished, he set the empty bottle down. And just as soon as he forgot about her, her face entered his mind. God damn it all to hell!

Would there ever be a moment in his life when he felt peace? He just wanted to love another and have it returned without any disruptions. He wanted to live like a normal man and rid himself of the curse upon his face.

Guilt washed over him as he felt like a weight on Christine. She was young, beautiful and sweet - something any man would want. He shouldn't be tying her down to him, the hideous monster with a disturbing fascination with her.

He turned, picked the bottle up and threw it at the wall in sudden anger. He watched as it smashed and lay broken and dejected on the floor. Just like my life. Not bothering to deal with the broken bottle, he went to his music room to forget about her. Something the wine seemed to be proving impossible at the moment.

As he neared the room, he stopped dead though. The door was ajar and music was wafting from the room. Beethoven's ninth symphony. He smiled. He had always enjoyed that piece of musical art. The smile became a frown though. Christine? He burst into the room and saw Christine sitting at the piano. Her brows appeared to be knitted in frustration as she appeared to be taking her anger out on his poor piano.

He smiled. She's here. But his smile soon faded again. No wait, I must be drunk. She wouldn't stay. "Christine?" he called, expecting her to disappear any second now. After all, he was drunk. Perhaps this is a dream. A lovely dream where she'll come to me... If only.

Christine turned and looked at him in shock. Her gaze was immediately drawn to his lips, remembering quite well were they had once been. His gaze was drawn to her clothing. Well, lack of clothing. She was only wearing a chemise, a thin chemise at that too. He subconsciously licked his lips. "Erik?" she asked. What's he doing here?

Erik realized at this moment, that this wasn't a dream.

"You shouldn't be here." he spoke suddenly. He couldn't have her sitting here, especially in a thin chemise. It was like being Pandora and having the box sit in front of you, knowing you shouldn't open it, but not sure if you could control yourself. He knew his desire for her insatiable at this moment.

"What?" she asked. Why was he sending her away now? She felt like any second she could be wrapped up in a box and sent to Raoul's doorstep.

"Go." he ordered.

"No." Christine was fed up his little games. This was ending now.

"No?" he said threateningly.

"I'm not leaving. I shall sit here if I want." she held her head up high and mighty, trying to anger him.

Erik couldn't believe what he was hearing! Christine was arguing with him! In a chemise no less! "I said leave, Christine!" he barked.

"No!" she yelled back.

Erik marched over to her and began to shake her by her uncontrollably by the shoulders. "Why not?" He demanded. He left her no time to respond. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because."

"Don't you give me one statement answers! Just answer me!"

"I will if I want too!" she yelled, crossing her arms in a huff. She knew of course that she sounded like a five year old.

Erik put his face in his hands and groaned. Why is she doing this? Anger seethed from him as he picked up a vase and threw it at the wall.

"Stop it!" she screamed, getting up and trying to grab a hold of his arms. He resisted and fought her grip on him off, causing him to bonk himself and his mask to fall off as his arm accidentally bonked it. The two stopped and stared at the mask on the ground, and a deadly silence filled the room.

Christine closed her eyes; waiting for his yells and screams at her to start. Erik just stood still, waiting for her screams of disgust to start. He suddenly couldn't take it anymore, and he began to bolt. Her shut eyes were a sign enough that she didn't want to see.

"Wait!" Christine yelled as he began to run from the room. She couldn't let him leave like this; it could ruin everything that had attempted to build. Not knowing why, Erik stopped. Why am I listening? "Face me." she ordered. Again, he did what she said, not knowing why. He slowly turned and faced her. She studied the twisted side of his face, a single tear sliding down her cheek. He wanted to wipe it away, but didn't dare touch her. He was frightened and angry at the same time. "Erik." she whispered.

"I'm sorry." he whispered back. Sorry you have to look at me.

She stepped forward, her eyes questioning him. At first all they did was gaze at each other. Till softly, Christine raised her hand up and caressed the mangled side of his face tenderly. A few tears fell from his eyes as he watched her intently. Her free hand instinctively reached out and brushed them away. The corners of her lips began to lift as she took another step closer, causing Erik's breathing to pick up.

"Erik," she whispered again. He looked at her, his eyes pleading with her. Christine had never felt such pity for anyone in her life. He was alone, and terrified, just like a lost child.

She began to lean up towards him and kissed him soundly on the mouth. He instinctively responded, forgetting about everything else, just wanting a little taste of heaven. She could taste his salty tears. Perhaps I can show him how it feels to be truly loved. She smiled.

Erik finally pulled back. But instead of running, he stared at her, breathing rapidly. He prayed to God that this wasn't some dream. He wasn't about to wake up and find out that he still lived in the sewers, longing for Christine's love again. But just to make sure, he pinched his arm. He beamed when it hurt.

"Oh Christine." he muttered, before pulling her into another kiss again. Now that he officially knew what it was like to be kissed, he never wanted to let go of that feeling again. Christine groaned and ran the tip of her tongue along the seam of his lip, causing his to open.

Erik parted his mouth from hers and asked, "How can you bare to look at me, let alone touch or kiss me?"

"Because," Christine said softly. Erik's eyes locked with hers intently. She began to lightly touch his cheek, stroking his chest with her other hand. "I love you."