Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews those few of you have left. Like I said in the beginning, I haven't contributed to the Phantom fandom in ages, and those contributions I made in the past weren't exactly awe-inspiring. This is a very short story which I hope will serve as a springboard for me to write more, and longer, Phantom fics. Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoy!

C~E~C~E

With no small amount of hesitation, Erik entered the cabin once more. After giving the ruffian on board to the lawmen, he had meandered on the deck, trying to sort out his whirlwind of emotions. It was when he gazed up at the stars and thought of the lullaby he'd sung to Christine numerous times that he stalked back toward their cabin, worried for her safety. Usually, where one ruffian was, another would be. And none would harm his Christine simply because he was too much of a coward to stay with her in the cabin.

Christine was settled beneath the covers, her hair spread out across the pillow. Though he'd known she was safe, he was relieved to find her in such a peaceful state. She was so beautiful, so innocent of all the horrors he'd seen in his life. What had he been thinking, ever putting her in such a position to choose his darkness over the light? She deserved more than a disfigured, murderous monster. But curse it all, he loved her! Loved her with his entire soul, loved her more than his music. He hadn't gone about showing her the right way, but there was no doubt in his mind she was the only woman he would ever love.

Unable to stop himself, he moved toward the bed, his fingertips trailing over the soft blanket under which she was sleeping. Sometimes he believed her nothing but a dream, a lovely, perfect dream that kept him sane. Almost in a trance, completely enchanted by her – nothing unusual – he removed his cloak, letting it drop to the floor, and curled up beside her on the bed. He was not an inch from her, but made sure not to touch her. Even that urge he could not resist for long. His fingers trailed over her long, dark curls, caressing the strands and reveling in the silky feeling of them. He remembered how soft her skin had felt when she'd kissed him. Even though he had heard the opera mob creeping closer, he'd marveled at her fervent kiss, the fact that she was choosing him. He had to feel her softness now. He stroked her cheek, and shivering at the smooth feel of her.

Suddenly, her hand wrapped around his wrist. Her stunning blue eyes flew open to look up at him. She was breathing shallowly, her gaze holding his, her thumb stroking his wrist. And then she kissed him.

He'd never felt anything better than her lips on his. One of her hands slipped into his hair, and she melded her body to his, deepening their kiss with such passion he wasn't sure he could breathe. Completely lost to her, he wrapped her in his embrace, pulling her close. Her tongue tentatively touched his as she pressed her body against his insistently, and he gasped into her mouth.

With a groan, he jerked away from her, covering the uncovered side of his face with his hand and rubbing warily. "How can I know you are sincere? You would do anything to protect him. This… this is not necessary for you to keep him safe from me." He struggled to control himself, very near the verge of tears. He hated showing weakness.

But Christine was crying. Her desperate sobs racked her whole body, causing her shoulders to shake. It was such a heartbreaking sound; he felt tears spill down his own cheeks. But before he could say anything, she was clutching at his lapels franticly, startling him.

"Why will you not believe me? I want you, I have told you over and over I chose you, I want you…" She was rambling, clutching wildly at him, her eyes enormous. "How can I show you, Erik?" Her hands began to roam all over his chest, into his suit jacket, as if she were trying to smooth her hands down every inch of him. She leaned forward and pressed fervent kisses to his chin and then his neck, her arms wrapped around him tightly as if she feared he would leap away from her. If he could've found his senses, perhaps he would have. But he was completely taken aback by her show of dedication. He'd seen the way she'd kissed the boy on the roof of the opera. She was kissing Erik differently. Her kiss with the Vicomte had been sweet, so achingly sweet Erik had had to turn away when he saw it. But her kisses with Erik were on a different scale entirely. There was a wildly passionate side to Christine, and he brought it out in her. She moved him with her kisses.

Erik wrapped his arms around her, embracing her tightly to him. He buried his face in her hair and breathed her in, letting her scent wash over him. He felt like an utter fool. He finally had someone who wanted to be with him, and he had been pushing her away. And he had been willing to let her get away! He wasn't sure he could ever not fear losing her, but he could at least return her love wholeheartedly.

Christine pulled back away from him, staring into his eyes with so much love he was astounded by it. "Won't you let me love you?" she whispered softly. One of her hands cupped the uncovered side of his face, and she lifted her lips to his.

Completely undone, Erik molded their bodies together once more and returned her kiss. Her hands clutched at his back; her legs shifted restlessly underneath the blanket. Instinctively, one of his legs slipped over both of hers in an effort to get even closer to her. She moaned into his mouth, and their tongues dueled fiercely as they grasped at each other.

Yet again, she pulled away from him. Erik hadn't thought it was possible for Christine to be any more beautiful, but he had been wrong. Her face was flushed from their heated kisses, her lips plump and scarlet. Her eyes were slightly glazed but sparkled with happiness. He was so in love with her.

But then she fingered the edge of his mask, and his eyes widened, nostrils flaring with swift anger. He grabbed her wrist in a steel grip, glaring down at her. Amazingly, instead of cringing away from him, she simply pouted prettily up at him.

"I only wish to kiss you deeper, Erik… won't you let me?" She was reaching toward his mask, despite his grip.

He shook his head as if to clear it. He never, ever thought his beloved Christine would be asking to remove his mask so that she could have better access to love him. He wanted to rave at her, insist she was asking for too much from him too quickly, but with that look in her eyes, he found he could deny her nothing. Not even this.

Erik released her wrist, and Christine slowly, reverently slipped the mask off of his face. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, and then Erik captured her lips with renewed fervor, feeling his heart burst with happiness such as he had never felt. Christine wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his ardor, melting into him.

After endless moments of tasting each other delightedly, Christine pulled back, a satisfied smile on her face. "That's much better," she said, reaching up to stroke where his mask had been.

Not liking for her to see him without the mask, and eager to taste her again, he leaned forward to resume their kiss. But Christine turned her head to the side, and his lips pressed to the corner of her mouth. He shifted uncomfortably, unsure, confused, but she simply pulled him close, hands on either side of his face, and traced her lips over inch of the ravaged side of his face. Erik expelled a shaky breath, afraid to believe such acceptance could be for him. Tears came to his eyes, and seeing them, Christine hastily took his mouth in a fierce kiss, effectively distracting him.

Christine rolled him onto his back and came out from under the covers, kicking them back and lifting her dress so that she could straddle him. Hands on his chest, she leaned down to kiss his distorted skin, and nibbled on his chin before pressing kisses to his neck. Her fingers deftly untied his cravat and began to unbutton his dress shirt. Erik's eyes screwed shut; he'd never felt such incredible pleasure. His hands wrapped around Christine's thighs beside his waist. He'd never touched her inappropriately before, but she'd started this, and there was only so much he could take. His fingers slipped under her dress, and he stroked the flesh of her thighs, groaning at the warmth and silky feel.

There came a knock on their door and a loud shout of, "Dinner has been prepared!"

Both of them blushing profusely, they struggled away from each other. Erik avoided her eyes, but once she'd settled her dress back into place, she moved to his side of the bed and buttoned up his shirt herself. It moved something within him. He wanted her to do that for him every time he dressed, to be his wife and lovingly attend to him like this. He'd never hoped for such a thing.

He grabbed her upper arms and kissed her gently, then smoothed her hair for her. Offering her his arm with a small smile, which she returned, he led her from the cabin.