Disclaimer: I hope, I wish, I pray, I yearn, but still I do not own The Phantom of the Opera.

Title: Peccata Mundi

Summary: The history of a man lies behind his white mask and his devotion to those in need. Through the shadows of his past and the light of the future, he seeks to right the wrong.

Assignment 2: The Fountain of Youth

Summary: After her big debut, Meg mysteriously goes missing. Add in multiple child kidnappings, and Erik is more than concerned. With the aid of his newest resident, he will have to solve the kidnappings and rescue Meg before it is too late.

Author's Note: Hello all! I just wanted to apologize to whatever is going on with the third chapter. I don't know if it is the website's doing or somehow my doing, but I heard that there are problems occurring when trying to view it. Anyway, sorry about that. Hopefully it will fix itself soon.

Section 4

- Dinner for Two

The day passed swiftly with neither Erik nor Christine seeing one another again since that morning's encounter with Raoul de'Chagny. Erik had remained locked up in his study. Now and then the violin could be heard, but it would last only minutes before a sharp frustrated note ended the tune. Christine had been busy about tasks in the house that needed to get done. Every so often, when passing by the study door, she would stop and stare at the blank wood as if longing for something hidden beyond it. Then she would walk away from the spot and go about her chores like nothing had happened.

Madame Giry, paying witness, would sigh and shake her head. Every day it seemed those two got into some sort of argument, but never had it ended with mere silence and ignorance. Their banter was always traced with humor or playfulness. There was never tension or awkwardness or strained feelings during or afterward. The quiet atmosphere that had befallen the entire house was bursting with all of those things and more.

Madame Giry worked across from Christine hand washing some sheets and towels. The girl had her eyes downcast on the fabric in her hands. She kept her mouth shut, which was very unusual. Normally, during any task that involved both of them, she couldn't keep quiet. Now it was just the opposite. Madame Giry found the silence almost unbearable. She wanted to learn more about what was causing this strange behavior between Christine and Erik.

"You are oddly quiet today, Christine," Madame Giry brought up as casually as possible.

It took a moment before Christine could respond. The intrusion of speaking had caught her off guard and she needed a second to compose herself and properly answer. Her gaze had shot up toward Madame Giry, who had intentionally dropped hers before asking the question.

"Odd? Is it really so odd that I am not boisterous?" Christine answered defensively, yet nonchalantly.

"It is when you normally are so." Both women kept their gazes focused on the water in the large bucket and the material they rubbed roughly against the wash boards. "Are you in a fair mood?"

"I'm just trying to concentrate on the task."

A heavy silence fell between them. Madame Giry knew that Christine would not disclose anymore information. She was stubborn, and she wasn't about to complain about the new lifestyle and family she had been welcomed into. That quality about her was impressive. Madame Giry ventured a glance at Christine, who still had her head bowed. She could feel the discontent radiating from her. However, she would give Christine this one and didn't even think about bringing the subject up again. She lowered her eyes and allowed the chore to continue in peace.

-----

Needless to say, dinner that evening could only be described as awkward and uncomfortable. Erik would not have attended at all if Madame Giry hadn't basically dragged him out of his study. The dining room had been empty when he took up his usual seat. But with the food and tea, Christine emerged from within the confines of the kitchen. She hesitated and was about to turn right back around, but Madame Giry had blocked her way of escape.

"Go set the food down, you silly girl," Madame Giry told her.

Christine did so.

"Sit and eat. I'll tend to the mess in the kitchen," Madame Giry then informed.

Christine couldn't complain. She would have gone to the other end of the long table, but Madame Giry pulled out the chair perpendicular to Erik's.

"My, how strange both of you are acting today," she said on her way back into the kitchen. "One would assume someone had died at how somber your moods are."

Now the two of them had been sitting in strained silence, listening to the soft tick of the grandfather clock from the hall and slowly eating the food on their plates. This had been going on for quite some time. It seemed even longer due to the lack of conversation. However, neither of them budged. Acknowledging the other would mean admitting defeat at this point in the game.

Nonetheless, when the clock struck the next time, Erik couldn't contain commenting more to himself than to her, "Meg is late. I wonder what could be keeping her."

Christine raised her emerald eyes to Erik's bent frame. He huddled over his plate in order to avoid seeing her. Hearing him speak first let her feel safer talking. Being quiet all day was difficult. And without seeing him, they hadn't been able to work anything out. She was ready to face that head on now that he had broken the ice with the parting of his lips and vibration of his vocal cords.

She cleared her throat lightly, pushing food around the dish with a fork. Erik glanced up, but for just a second before averting his eyes again. She attempted to sort out everything that had gathered in her head over the course of the entire day. It took a couple of minutes before she found what she wanted to say.

She dropped her fork noisily against the china, grabbing his attention, and rapidly said, "I cannot read your mind."

Erik paused, blinking a couple times. It didn't register. He had expected Christine to say something eventually, and was not at all surprised at that. He just didn't understand what she was trying to get across.

"Pardon me?" he asked.

In the same fast, yet quiet style, she explained, "All day long you shut yourself up in that office of yours. You say nothing to me. You don't even take the time to properly apologize for flying off the handle this morning."

"Apologize?" Erik cut in.

However, Christine continued as if he had not just broken her train of her thought. "Meanwhile, I don't know what to think. I don't know whether or not you are angry with me or what I could have done wrong." She finally brought her eyes up to his for the first time since the rant began. Sincerely and slower, she stressed, "I cannot read your mind. You must talk to me."

Silence fell yet again that day. Erik allowed himself a minute to come up with a rebuttal. He shifted in his seat, feeling the stare cast by Christine resembled that of a judge's. His resolve broke down from the emotion behind her voice and eyes. He was uncomfortable and ashamed. He knew he had been wrong to treat Christine the way he had that morning, but he was also too stubborn to go down without a slight fight.

"Privacy is very important to me, Christine," he stated slowly. "The more people who are able to just waltz into my house, the more that privacy is diminished."

"Raoul's appearance surprised me just as much as it surprised you. Believe me, I have no intention of ever changing you or upsetting you."

Erik looked at her with a furrowed brow as if trying to examine her or figure her out. Genuineness was all that he could find there. His heart thumped harder in his chest and he felt like a blush could creep across his face. It didn't, though. He wouldn't have been surprised if time had stopped all around them. His breathing muffled his ears.

"No intention of changing me…?" he echoed inaudibly.

Christine didn't react. The next second he shook he his head and resumed his normal composure and mind. All of the anger and ill emotions had drained from his body. He felt heavy and weakened all of a sudden. His head turned away from the girl. He couldn't look at her anymore. He leaned his elbow on the table and kneaded his forehead.

"Do not worry yourself over the events of this morning, Christine. My reaction was purely of shock and misunderstanding," he told her defeated.

That was as close to an apology as he could come. She knew this and did not complain. Instead, her expression softened, and her own feelings were lifted. She relaxed and pushed slightly closer to him.

"Monsieur, if I worry it is over you. You hide behind that door and these strong emotions." Adding in a whisper, "You hide behind that mask." He didn't react to the line, probably not hearing it. So she continued. "As long as you are content, Monsieur, a smile will be on my face."

He stopped, and she leaned into the table, trying to move into his view, with a small smile on her face. She caught his eye. He turned his head in her direction, allowing her to sit up straight. The smile remained in place. He couldn't place it, but whenever she smiled, he couldn't help doing the same. His spirits always became lighter. His mood always became happier. What was it about this woman that changed his personality so?

Erik smiled genuinely, which produced an even bigger grin on Christine's face. She sat back, upright, pleased with the change in attitude. This was how she tried to live: in bliss and happiness. Life was meant to be enjoyed. It was short and temporary. There was no time to be miserable.

"That's what I like to see," Christine said. She stood up and began collecting the used dinnerware. "I think it is time to clean up. It seems Madame Giry has discovered some preoccupation for the couple hours this dinner has lasted. I must join her in the kitchen and remind her that eating is not that time-consuming of a task." Christine disappeared still smiling.

Erik slowly looked forward, his lips still upturned. He propped both elbows on the table and entangled his fingers in a praying clasp. Leaning slightly against his fists with his mouth, he became lost in his thoughts. He was still unable to fathom the magic possessed in the small frame of this young woman. What made her eyes shine with so much life? What caused her presence to radiate through the entire room, even if it was racked with crowds and crowds of people? Why was she so…