And now I'm officially back on schedule. Thanks to everyone who read, alerted and to Phan3145 for reviewing again. Maybe we could possibly get the count up to two reviews per chapter? That would be so awesome...

I opened the door to my room and stopped in the doorway, startled.
Christine Daaé jumped up from the chair she had waited in and made the bare hint of a curtsy. "Mademoiselle, please pardon my behaviour, I..."

"Call me Amélie, please," I said, stepping inside for good and closing the door behind me. "I must say, though, that I'm disappointed you didn't show at rehearsals if you are up."

"I... I don't feel so well, Made- Amélie."

I nodded, walking past her to drop my scarf down on the dressing table. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"I had hoped we could..." She took a deep breath before whispering, "He mentioned you."

I whirled around, raising both eyebrows at the girl. "He what?"

"He said... he said I mustn't listen to what you had to say, because... because you were just as much his enemy as you are his friend."

"Did he, now?" I muttered. What made him say these things to her? When had I ever proven myself to be his enemy? Or was anyone an enemy to him who didn't bend to his every will?

"Well, if the phantom says so, he must be right."

"I... I have seen... his face."

My eyes widened at her confession as everything snapped in place; the fright in her eyes and the hurt look in his when I told him that Christine had seemed terrified.

"My God," I whispered.

"Stranger than I dreamt it,
I can't even dare to think...
The look I stole on his face,
This monstrosity-"

"Silent!" I snapped. "He's not a monster."

I had to go and see him, I figured. Apologize for my carelessly uttered words.

"I apologize, I just... what happened to him?"

"Nothing happened," I said. "He was born that way."

I watched as her eyes watered. "Poor creature..."

I huffed, definitely annoyed with the girl by now. "You should-"

"How do you know him?" she asked.

I sighed. "I was in the rails above the stage and slipped. I would have fallen hadn't he caught me."

"He saved you?" Her voice dripped of astonishment and curiosity. "Why?"

"I don't think even he knows," I answered shortly.
Of course, I had left out the part where I had followed him, down to his home, if you wanted to call it that; down to where he hid away in loneliness and all his pent-up anger. I left out the part where I had almost drowned in his damned lake and he had had to save me once again. I left out the part where we formed something very similar to a friendship over the sheer brilliance of his music.

"You should go... and I should get down there to see him."

"Why would you do that?" she asked, fear clearly sparkling in her eyes again.

Maybe she was a sweet girl after all, being worried about me and all. Not that she needed to be. And obviously, Christine felt pity for Erik, even though she clearly was frightened of him.

"I said something... something rather mean to him this morning," I explained softly. "I should go and offer my apologies."

"Aren't you afraid that he'll...?"

"No, not really," I answered quite honestly. Naturally, there was always doubt when it came to Erik – which was rather sad, looking at it this way – but I didn't really believe that he would hurt me.

"In this case... I wish you good luck."

Minutes later, I was in one of the dark passageways leading to the catacombs underneath the Opera. In the darkness, my candle being the only dim source of light, every sound seemed to haunt me. Even my own steps and the swishing of my skirts seemed ghostly.
He wouldn't be happy to see me, so much was clear. Then again, he never was happy to see me, or always said so, and in the end, we got along just fine.
There was no other option, anyways, I had to-

A scream was torn from my mouth as the ground gave in beneath me and I dropped. It was a wonder, really, that my hands gripped the edge of the abyss that had just opened and that I didn't fall – a damn luck, too. My candle had fallen from my hands; seconds after I had dropped, I heard it clattering onto the ground. I gulped hard, looking down and saw the last, hopeless flickering so many feet beneath me before it expired, surrounding me in darkness.

Frantically, I tried to secure my hold, but it was no use. I was left there, my feet dangling over the abyss, my nimble fingers being the only hold. I did the only reasonable thing.

"ERIK! ERIK! HELP ME! PLEASE!"

No sound could be heard and I felt tears of panic rising in my eyes. Soon, my hands wouldn't be able to hold me up and I would fall... crash onto the ground next to an equally lifeless candle...

"ERIK!" I called again, almost weeping. "PLEASE, HELP ME!"

A few silent moments passed and I couldn't say if it were seconds, minutes or hours – and then, hurried footsteps echoed through the darkness. I almost sobbed in relief as the passageway lightened. Erik appeared above me and now I cried for good.

"Please," I whispered.

He bent down, one gloved hand wrapping around one of mine and the other gripping my forearm. He pulled me up over the edge and I practically fell into his arms, sobbing.

"Oh God, Erik..."

His voice seemed almost uncertain as he muttered, "'s all right... I've got you..."

"Oh God," I muttered again, very carefully pulling back and attempting to dry my tears. "I thought I was going to die."

"Well," Erik said, suddenly very stern. "You're lucky the 'Angel of Darkness' is always coming to your rescue."

"Erik, about that-"

He huffed and turned away, gesturing for me to follow him. I practically rushed after him, grabbing his arm. "Please, don't leave me standing there..."

"Afraid?"

"Terrified," I admitted. "I don't trust myself down here."

"And you trust me?" he scoffed.

"With my life."

He glared at me, even though he made no attempt to free his arm as we kept walking. "Obviously..."

"Listen, Erik, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said these things this morning..."

"No, you shouldn't have."

The tone of his voice quieted me immediately and for the rest of our journey down to the lake, I didn't dare to speak up again. As we reached the boat, he offered me a hand.

"Erik, I really am sorry... I didn't know."

"There was nothing to know," he answered, raising his eyebrows at me.

I sighed and took his hand, allowing him to help me into the boat.

"You know," I said a little while later, looking at the new sheets full of scribbled notes. "Sometimes I wonder why you have about 20 sheets of the same piece lying around..."

"What do you want, Amélie?"

I looked up at him. "I came here – or, I tried – wanting to apologize, but you won't let me."

"You did apologize."

"But you don't try and understand!" I exclaimed, walking towards him. "See, when we talked this morning, I didn't know she had seen your face. I shouldn't have said that she was terrified, or that you're an Angel of Darkness. I know I hurt you and I know it must have stung even more after she..."

"Perhaps she wasn't that scared after all."

"Erik," I said softly, my hand reaching out to grace his cheek, but he shrank back and my hand dropped again. "Look, she pities you, all right, but... that doesn't mean she genuinely likes you. I'm not saying that to hurt you, I just want to protect you from yourself. I know you – you get obsessed about things and when they don't go the way you want to-"

"Then what?" he growled.

"Then you stage a disaster beyond imagination, and quite frankly, I don't want that."

"'S not in your hands," he answered. Dark eyes met mine and he sighed heavily. "I'm not angry at you."

I smiled brightly at him at this news.

"I am glad –
I felt so bad for what I said.

Thank you, Erik."

"Not to worry..."

The smallest smile played around his lips and I grinned back at him.

"No more talk of darkness –
Let's move to brighter things!
Like you – you and your music,
Tell me why you wrote this!"

I held up one of the sheets I had found earlier and he rolled his eyes.

"I wanted to write a Sonata. By the time I had 20 different versions, I remembered that I hate Sonatas."

I chuckled and brushed through the different versions. "Can I have one of those?"

"What for?"

"To play it, stupid," I teased.

"Wait, I'll get you the best one..."

"The last?"

"No, the first."

I chuckled again as he rummaged through the different versions until he found what he was looking for.

"There you go. I should get you back up; you shall be back for the performance tonight."

I nodded, my fingers wrapping around the sheet he had handed me. "You'll be there, too?"

"Will Box Five be empty?"

I pulled a face. "Actually, I think every seat is sold, except Box Five, so... the managers and our patron..."

"Ah, Monsieur le Vicomte..."

"I don't think Box Five will be empty," I finished my original thought.

He hummed lightly, the calmness in him making me instantly suspicious.

"What are you planning, Erik?"

"If I would tell you," he said. "It wouldn't be a surprise."