So, here's chapter 4! I know, I know, both Erik and Christine are very stubborn. Review please!

Enjoy! :D

Disclaimer: I do not know own POTO. All hail Gaston Leroux and Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber!

Chapter 4: Turning Tables

- Christine's POV -

Christine looked through the window. Christmas Eve. Everything was covered with snow. Paris was truly beautiful in the winter, especially when this time of the year arrived. All stores and streets were marvelously decorated with countless lights and ribbons, chants filled up the air.

She hadn't seen the phantom since he left the room to call Mme. Giry. The middle-aged teacher had come and took her to her primma donna room. Just like that. Of course there had been severe looks of disapproval and a few harsh words such as "Are you a child, Christine? I thought you had more sense than that! Mon Dieu, coming to these catacombs all by yourself!" and "You were lucky that he found you, you really were". While listening to the reprimands, Christine felt she'd let herself down by doing something so irresponsible, so thoughtless.

Surprisingly enough, she didn't regret what she'd done. Christine knew she'd put herself in terrible danger, but with that feeling also came the certainty that she would have done it again if put in the very same situation. Not that it was wise, not at all. It had been stupid to allow despair to take the best of her, Christine knew it. She also knew that it was best not to act as if she were the heroine of a novel or a fairy tale. The Phantom had come to her rescue, that was true enough. As was also true that it had been sheer luck - some might even consider it a miracle.

So, there she was. Back to square one. Christine couldn't help but sigh. It felt like all the effort had gone to waste. All those letters, being able to face him and tell him how sorry she was - all she got was an "I will consider your words". Which really meant he wasn't going to forgive her or even talk to her again. Well, at least she had tried, not that she was conformed with that. But for the time being, it was better to give the phantom some space, she reckoned. Hopefully, things would turn out alright.

After spending a few weeks in bed, she'd progressively returned to rehearsal. Mme. Giry had called in a doctor, who confirmed she didn't have a concussion. Still, he advised her to rest and to slowly resume her routine, which she was almost accomplishing.

Raoul came to see her almost everyday, which had made room for gossip in Opera Populaire. Even though she refused all of his advances, he insisted on coming and giving her presents, most of which she would refuse, give to Meg or throw into a drawer never to see daylight again. It was expected that they should be a couple, which they were not. Just friends, she told herself. He knows that I don't wish to marry him. I've told him that a million times! But the Vicomte wasn't giving up on her easily, he'd proven as much. And as flattered as she could feel, she also felt flustered. What if the Phantom heard the gossip? Worse, what if he believed it? She didn't want to give him any more reasons to hate her. Well, not that my romantic life concerns him anyway. But that wasn't entirely true, was it? She was actually quite worried over the possibility that he might think she was in love with another. Not that she would ever admit it, but she kind of liked his possessive strikes. And lately she would find herself thinking that he wasn't that bad-looking. He had presence, was a literate man and a fine gentleman. He sang, composed, wrote, drew and God knows what else. And most importantly, he had passion… The way he'd held her in the lair proved as much. Even if that wedding dress was a little over the top, it showed he cared for her. For all these years, he'd taken care of her.

Christine sighed once more and prayed that things would get simpler, just like in the old times.

- Erik's POV -

This time of the year didn't used to mean much to him. It was Christmas, a time for celebration of all things good in the world and love for one another. Having never felt loved by anyone or acknowledged particular nice things about mankind in general, it didn't bear particular meaning to him. That was, until he met Christine. Then it had become a magical night where we would make her dreams come true and remind her that she was not alone. It had become a spectacle, something he prided himself on offering her. He would leave her flowers and pastries by her nightstand and at midnight sharp he would always leave her a small present. The look on her face was priceless and filled his heart with something he'd not know until then. Love. All he wanted then was to make her feel like that forever. Neither one of them would ever have to feel lonely again. Things used to seem so simple when it was all about Christine and him. They had a world of their own, something only theirs than no outsider could ever reach. Until now.

He'd been spending too much time thinking about what she'd said, weighing her words and expressions, trying to decode it all. And thought that maybe she deserved a second chance, much for both of their sakes - he couldn't possibly imagine his world without her. Not now, when he'd come so close…

That's why this night was so important. It was a different Christmas. All repressed feelings were out, and none of them could draw back now. Christine would have to make her choice. And he wouldn't take it any other way. For how many years had he longed for her, for her love? He'd built his world around her, until she'd become his world. It was madness, he knew it. He felt like he was no longer in control of his actions, not when it came to her. His wildest side had been unleashed and the temptative brunette was the one to blame. Things were greatly changed: she was no longer a child, and beneath the angel façade was a man. Their friendship, if one could call it so, was held on a very fragile thread. He wanted more. Having the chance to get more, he wouldn't set for anything less. And the phantom would no longer treat Christine as his adored protegé. Not today.

This time, there would be no presents at midnight. They would talk and sort things out for once and for all; everything about this situation was draining him of all patience and energy and he had the feel that both of them needed the give an end to it. Erik had to obtain answers and, in exchange, was preparing himself for all the unavoidable Christine's questions.

It was almost time. Erik gulped.

- Christine's POV -

Christine looked at the clock and yawned. In 10 minutes it would be midnight and she was restless. In previous years, midnight meant mysterious presents and an even more mysterious presence. She gave a deep sigh. Maybe this time midnight would bring her something nice as well. At least that was she was hoping for.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and Christine's heart was about to jump out of her chest. Her voice quivered when she said "Come in."

She turned around quickly, hoping to see the man who had saved her life.

The Vicomte de Chagny was standing next to the door. Christine's hopeful smile faded immediately.

"Raoul? W-what…"

"Good night, Christine."

She composed herself. "Good night. I'm sorry for being so rude, I wasn't expecting anyone to come here." Liar. I'm a ruthless liar. "To what do I owe this visit?"

Raoul gulped visibly and nervously unbuttoned his winter coat.

"Little Lotte… I've meant to ask you this for a few weeks, but for some reason I thought today was just… right."

What? What could he possibly want of me at midnight - midnight! - On Christmas Eve?

"You certainly seem distressed, but wouldn't it be wise to speak tomorrow instead? After all, it's late and I was about to go to b-"

"Christine."

Before she could utter any other word, Raoul was kneeling, a small square box in his hand. Before she could stop him, he opened it and said "After years apart, we met again and I can't help but feel like fate has brought us together. These past months have been magical and my only hope is that you give the chance to spend more and more time by your side. Would you marry me?"

Christine was petrified. This was mostly unexpected, especially given that she'd been practically ignoring him ever since the rooftop incident. How he'd concluded they should be married, she had no idea. They'd never kissed, their conversations were never long and she had been constantly dismissing him. And now she would have to refuse him.

"Christine, is there anything wrong?"

Raoul was growing impatient, no doubt. She hadn't said anything at all yet and was still thinking about the most courteous way to address him without hurting him too much - something that seemed rather impossible but needed to be done anyway.

"I can't marry you".

It wasn't exactly a delicate way to put things, but at least she was going straight to the point. There was no easy way out; it was better to put an end to his false hopes quickly and hope for the best.

He got up and grabbed her hand swiftly. "Christine, you don't need to be afraid anymore - the monster is long gone. That creature won't keep us from being happy, he can't. I'll do my best to protect you from it."

Christine drew her hand back and the Vicomte stared at her bewildered.

"I'm afraid you don't understand. I don't wish to marry you."

"Little Lotte, you don't need to pretend-"

"I won't marry you because I don't love you." There, she'd said it. It was a horrible thing to say, she knew. But lying about it wouldn't make it less true.

- Erik's POV -

Erik was behind the bedroom mirror, not being able to leave. He almost had, when that sneering boy had entered the room; but some strange force had compelled him to stay. By the time the Vicomte gallantly proposed to Christine blood in his veins froze for what seemed like an eternity. That is, until he heard her say "no". He thought he was dreaming; after all, why wouldn't she want to marry the boy? "I don't love you", she'd told Raoul. She hadn't spared his feelings, that was for sure. However, the phantom couldn't help but think about her actions the same way the Vicomte seemed to.

Maybe it was him the reason why rejecting Raoul so blatantly. But she hadn't quivered, there was no regret in her eyes, nothing that indicated hesitation in her actions.

Suddenly, he heard the boy.

"You're scared Christine, I know it. Last weeks were not easy on you and this proposal came to you as a shock, I have no doubt of it. But soon you'll cool your head down and you'll cease to be scared. Until then, I'll wait for your response." His tone was slightly desperate, but at the same time commanding.

Then, Christine snapped.

"I have already given you my answer. And don't act as if you know any better than me what is it that I'm feeling or thinking. I'm not a puppet!"

That was… interesting. And certainly not the reaction he was expecting. His Christine, always so kind and gentle, was using the harshest tone of voice he'd ever heard from her. She was growing to have a mind of her own. That fact comforted Erik the most and scared him all the same.

"You are clearly out of your mind! I'll come back when you think it through. Merry Christmas, Christine."

The Vicomte left indecorously and slammed the door. No doubt, he was furious and things had not had the outcome he'd expected. Well, that applied to Erik as well. Christine had certainly managed to surprise them both.

His look was on Christine, who was blushing furiously out of rage. She sighed and turned to the mirror. For how long she stared, he couldn't tell. Some would say she looked rather disappointed, but why? He figured that things were complicated enough was they were; there was no need to walk into the room and blow away his cover; she would immediately know he'd seen everything and he didn't wish to upset her even more. Also, Erik wished to confirm what she'd said - that she didn't love Raoul De Chagny.

This night had certainly turned the tables around, but not the way Erik had anticipated. Maybe it was best to leave things as they were for a while.

Christine went away and blew the candles.

There was nothing left for him to do.