As Erik saw her in the doorway, fear filled his mind. He did not know how much she had heard, how much she had…felt…God forbid. He knew his music was powerful, and he had never exposed Christine to anything less than beauty in all the years he had taught her. He never wanted to poison her mind with the darkness that music could bring. And now, as she innocently stood in the doorway, he was afraid lest he had scarred her innocence forever. He screamed at her to leave and she turned and ran out of the room.

As soon as the slam and lock of her door was heard, Erik felt himself go weak. He leaned against the wall for support.

"Imbecile. Idiot. Lunatic. You bring her down here and yell at her? How could you have let this happen? How could you have let yourself slip?"

He sighed, and stood up straight once more. He knew that he had to do something, lest he ruin his chance with the girl forever.

"Chance. Ha!" He laughed at the thought. "As though a creature like her…"

He stopped his thoughts as he heard his own fist knocking gently on Christine's door. No answer. He knocked slightly louder.

"Christine. Please…forgive me. I have so much to explain. I am sure you are frightened to death, and I cannot begin to express my regret for all of this…but…I… simply think that it would be wise for you to let me explain." He spoke softly.

"I…don't…understand." She spoke through sobs. Hearing her weeping pierced through Erik's heart like a knife.

"I know, Christine. First, let me begin by introducing myself properly. I can be a proper gentleman at times, you know. And I think now would be an appropriate time to be so-" He caught himself rambling and took in a breath. "My name is Erik. I am the one who has been teaching you all of these years. I am your Angel of Music."

"I know that. I recognized your voice the first time I saw you in the passageway earlier this evening. You stopped me from pounding again on the wall…"

"Ah, yes." He spoke cautiously, debating on whether or not to reveal the secret of the two-way mirror that she was actually pounding on. He had been afraid that she would shatter it. "I did not want you to hurt yourself."

"I fainted…after that…yes?"

"Yes, and I explained this before. I carried you down here, and…put you into the night-robe you wear now…and then laid you to bed."

"Yes, thank you for showing concern. Those corsets can be rather constricting." Her sobbing had stopped. She spoke louder and more confidently, but showed no signs of wanting to unlock and open the door.

"I offered you supper, but you fainted again. I left to play music and-" He stopped himself.

"That music. Who was it's creator?"

"I'm afraid that I cannot answer that."

"And why not? It was beautiful. It reminded me of my Father…" She drifted off.

Realizing that she was talking about the beautiful music he had first created, he allowed himself a shred of comfort. "Perhaps she did not hear the rest."

"That music, was written by me. Although I must say that it is the first of it's kind. My compositions are not usually that…cheerful."

"And…the rest of the music. The melody that was playing before I opened the door."

Erik felt his heart beat faster. What was he to do? What was he to say?

"What about it?" He snapped.

"I…Nothing." She sensed his anger, and wishing to avoid it, stopped the conversation. Obviously the man did not want to speak of it. "You said your name is Erik?"

"Yes. That is what I have been called all of my days. And being called such, I assume it is my name."

"It's a pleasant name." She said through the door.

Pleasant. That was new. Never had he thought that so benign of an adjective could be associated with him. Monstrous, loathsome, devilish, those words were familiar….but pleasant? The thought brought a faint sort of smirk to his lips.

"I'm glad you think so. Now, I will ask you again. Would you like some supper, Miss Daae? Please, do not faint this time."

She laughed slightly. "I am feeling slightly peckish, yes. Supper would be lovely."

The lock slid out of place, and the doorknob turned. As the door opened, Erik knew that there was no going back to the way that things had been just hours ago. Whatever happened, she knew that he was a real man, there was no more Angel façade to hide behind.

Erik laughed to himself at the irony of not having something to hide behind. Isn't that what he was always doing? Hiding his soul? Hiding his face? He wondered why Christine had not asked about the mask in amongst her other questions. Perhaps she was being polite. Perhaps she was petrified that he would lose his temper again. Either way, he was silently grateful that she hadn't brought it up.