A/N: Hello everyone! I'm starting to really miss being able to write fanfiction, so fortunately you'll probably be getting more updates than normal once the month is over. As always, thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews, and enjoy the chapter!

I waited until after everyone had gone to bed that night. When the house was still and dark, I got out of bed and, wrapped in my robe and not bothering to slip on any shoes, slipped silently out into the dark, moonless night. The streets were empty, and I was careful not to disturb the silence as I walked quickly through the darkness to the address that Madame Giry had given me.

The house that I was led to was run-down and had long ago been abandoned by its owner. It loomed over me, looking skeletal in the dim light that the stars provided. I entered cautiously, silently picking my way through empty room after empty room. Finally, in a bedroom in the farthest corner of the house, I saw him. He stood at a window, looking out into the night, his back turned to me. I saw his mask discarded on a small table in the corner, but I no longer feared his face. "Erik," I said quietly.

He turned, and though I could not see his face well, I could feel his surprise. He looked at me long and hard, and at first I was not sure if he could see me. "Christine…" His voice was filled with disbelief. "Is it really you? You're really here?"

I took a few steps forward to close the distance between us, and Erik reached out to gently cup my cheek in his hand. I could hardly believe that this was real, either. But as soon as he touched me, every bit of confusion, every doubt that had filled me went away, replaced by a peace stronger than I had ever felt before. I was where I was supposed to be. I placed one hand on his marred cheek, caressing it softly; I placed the other hand lightly on his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart. "I'm here," I whispered.

"It can't be you," he said shakily. "I dreamt that you would come back to me; that's what this is. It has to just be some beautiful dream. You can't really be here. You would never come back."

I felt tears gliding down his cheeks, and I gently wiped them away. "Why are you crying?" I asked softly.

"Because I will wake, and you will be gone forever," he said, entwining his fingers in my curls and bringing us closer together. "You are getting married the day after tomorrow. You would never be here now."

"Do not cry, mon ange. This is not a dream – I am here. And I will not leave," I said without thinking. But as soon as I said it, it felt true. "I wasn't sure why I was here until now," I began to explain, "but now I know. I cannot leave you. You are a part of me, and I need you like I need the air I breathe." My words began a fresh wave of tears, and this time we both cried together. "Erik, I will not marry Raoul. I will not go back there – I will stay with you, wherever you go. Can you ever forgive me for leaving you?"

Erik kissed my forehead, and even though his lips barely brushed my skin, the contact sent fire running through my veins. He began to pull away from me, and the air between us felt too cold, too empty. I craved him, I craved his touch; I needed to know that I was here with him, and his simple kiss had set my body to life. I pressed my lips to his, but unlike last time, I let passion seep into the embrace. Erik kissed me back and held me tightly against him, desperate to feel me with him as I was to feel him with me.

There was only Erik and me in the world then. Nothing else mattered; nothing else existed. There was nothing now to keep us apart, and we were desperate to feel each other, to know that the other existed. Our kiss deepened, and his hands began to explore my body, shyly at first and then more boldly as he felt my reaction to him. "Erik," I gasped as his lips moved to my neck. My hands slipped beneath his thin white shirt, running over the scars across his chest and back, feeling the warmth of his skin and the racing of his heart.

"Christine," he whispered, his lips at my ear. "I love you. Say you love me. Say it."

"I love you," I gasped, clinging to him, pressing his body against mine. "I love you, I love you, I love you." My robe dropped to the ground, and I could feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of my nightgown.

"Christine," he breathed, his voice low and husky as I undid the buttons of his shirt and let it fall to the ground before toying teasingly with the waist of his pants.

"I love you, Erik," I repeated. It was all I could say; it was all I could think. The realization that I loved him seemed so delayed when I thought back to all the times I could have realized it. But no, I had clung to my childish fantasy of Raoul and the life he offered me, afraid to enter a world of darkness to be with Erik. I was afraid no longer.

My lips hungrily met Erik's again, and we fell back onto the bed. My nightgown was swiftly pulled over my head, and my stockings lovingly rolled down my legs as I fumbled with the buttons of Erik's pants. At last there was nothing separating us; not clothing, not the world. "Christine," Erik breathed heavily. "Are you sure? You won't… regret this?"

I shook my head determinedly, and I knew that even in the darkness he could see. "I won't regret this. As long as I live, I won't regret this. I am sure."

Erik kissed me again, caressing my face gently. "I love you, mon ange."

The night air was cool, and I moved closer to Erik, our bodies tangled in the sheets and in each other. I heard him sigh as I lightly traced the scars on his chest. "Christine," he said solemnly. "You cannot fathom how much I love you. And no matter what, I will love you forever. Please promise me that you will remember that." His voice was filled with a deep sadness that I could not understand.

Instead of replying, I placed my lips back to his, tasting the salt of his silent tears and determined to show him the love that I felt. Lather, as I drifted off to sleep in Erik's arms, utterly exhausted but happier than I could ever remember being, I thought I heard him whisper mournfully, "What have I done?"

When I awoke again, the first thing I noticed was that I was cold. I rolled over, still half-asleep, searching for the warmth of Erik's body. When I realized that he was not there, I pulled the sheets over myself. "Erik, come back to bed," I mumbled groggily, not even opening my eyes. "I'm cold." There was no reply; there was not even any movement in the room. "Erik?" I called softly, sitting up. The room was empty.

I sank back into the bed to wait for him but as time passed, as cold, numb feeling came over me. I understood quickly, but I did not want to believe it. For a while I just sat and waited for Erik to come back. Eventually, I rose from the bed and pulled my clothes back on before searching the other rooms of the house. There was no trace of him, no sign that he had ever been here. It felt like my chest had been ripped in two as I was forced to face reality with terrible certainty.

Erik was gone.

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