He watched her sleep, as he always did, that night. Carefully tracing her curves with his eyes, jealous of the very sheets that clung to her, he sat cautiously at her bedside, dutifully prepared to comfort her when she awoke from another nightmare.

God, he knew nightmares himself. He hardly slept because of them…

I shouldn't of played that music for her…she isn't ready for it…any of it…

Silently he edged from her bed, going out into the little hallway not closing her door all the way. He made sure a few candles were lit for her, in case she did indeed wake from her dreams. Why must he always have these thoughts of her? His pure, little Christine…although it was easy to imagine her writhing beneath him!

He cursed himself, removing the mask and splashing what seemed to be ice water on his face. She had tried to touch me this morning! What can I make of that? She must love me…even if it's only a little…

Was this normal to think of such carnal desires all the time? Was this primal cloud of desire that fogged his thoughts the most human he had ever come to be? It disgusted and enraged him to think of her as some common whore! But how could he not think of it?

He loved her with every terrible fiber of his existence, he assured himself. But why such vulgar and vivid imagery's? Why this internal torment he subjected himself to?

He had to blame his Don Juan for all of this. Whom else could put such thoughts even in his head…or perhaps Christine's? He shuddered at the thought of her thinking such things about him.

Never had he felt any woman's touch. Not even of his own mother's embrace! He would die a thousand death's to feel that child's hand on his scarred flesh! That simple caress of his mask and the bit of flesh not covered by it had been seared by her! He was good at faking sleep, and when he felt her shift beneath him and begin to caress him it was near undoing to him. He had to shift his own body so that she would be frightened away…

Even her small caresses and inexperienced kiss could drive him to the point of insanity. He couldn't give in to it…not now…less his inability to control these desires welling up inside him take over…then he would be a "true" monster.

The overwhelming want to taste her lips nearly made him topple over, finding himself back in her room without even knowing how he had got there. Did he walk there? Or float? Did he even leave the room at all? He couldn't remember!

All he could concentrate on was the angel lying before him. Uninhibited, calm…not frightened nor trembling. A living breathing angel…that was his!

He kneeled at her bedside, hearing her sweet breath leave her lips, her breasts swelling with every inhale of air. Her head moved slightly, a sigh escaping her lips. He was holding his breath, temptation drawing closer…winning.

So beautiful…

He pressed his malformed lips as gentle as he possibly could to hers, at that moment of sheer need. So gentle it didn't interrupt her breath, nor her sleep. Still kneeling he pulled back slowly from her mouth, the urge to just rip off her chemise and take her in his mother's bed overpowering. He closed his eyes, resisting the urge to scream at his own body for reacting so cruelly to him.

"Erik?" A small whisper in the dark.

He opened his eyes, finding her sitting up in the bed, a look of confusion and terror upon her sweet innocent face.

The mask…

Erik covered his face as if any more vision of it would poison Christine to death.

"Forgive me…forgive me…" He cried, angry at his own tortured soul. What was he so forgiving for? For letting her look upon his deformed skin…the kiss…taking her from the light above the cellars? He didn't know.

He didn't hear her move from the bed, and in instant she was kneeling beside him on the wooden floor, her hand, trembling, coming to touch his shoulder.

As if a child to his mother, without giving her another glance of his face, he turned and pressed his cheek to her chest, hearing her rapid heartbeat. Christine swallowed nervously, her arms coming around him.

"Erik…" She whispered, her fingers coming up to caress his black hair. She could feel him shaking in her arms, tears running from those once beautiful eyes! "Shhh…" She hushed him as he had done to her many a night.

She rocked him gently, beginning to sing a lullaby. One that her father had so often sang to her to make her sleep.

Erik clutched himself to her thin chemise, all at once ashamed and relieved. She didn't pull away from me! She's holding me now…singing to me! I don't deserve this…

"Come, Erik…come lie with me…I will still hold you…" She whispered innocently.

"I don't deserve you, my child…" He whispered, his voice still powerful even in the midst of tears.

"Please…I want to make your pain go away, Erik…" Prying his hands from his eyes.

"No! Please…don't look at me…please…" He pleaded, covering his face again.

She kissed his hair, his forehead, the fingers that covered his face. Seeing him so vulnerable was new to her…a different side of him revealed.

Finally she brought him to stand, on unsteady feet, bringing him into bed with her. Her face flushed as he nuzzled next to her breast, his fingers tangling in the sheer fabric of her chemise. She held him for a long time, continuing to sing to him.

"Erik? Are you asleep?" She whispered, her fingers combing through his hair.

"How can I sleep when I lay upon an angel? I want to savour this forever…" He whispered in reply, his hand sliding down from her side to her waist holding her tighter.

Bravely, and boldly he lifted his head up to face her, the only candle left burning giving his terrible features a warm glow.

A surge of…love hit her? Her hand came down from his hair to caress a scarred cheek, Erik's eyes closing at the sensation. When his eyes opened, she could almost see the desire beginning to boil within him.

"You…are not repulsed by my cursed face?" He whispered shakily.

"No, Erik…at one time I was afraid…but not now…" She continued her caress of his deformed flesh, memorizing every line, every contour.

Her small hand burned on his skin. No one had ever touched his face….at least not as so gentle and…loving…as she had.

Slowly he brought himself to be hovering over her, their eyes never leaving one anothers.

"Don't deny me any longer, Christine…" He whispered gently in her ear, leaving her no time to protest as his mouth was on hers.

A shy cry of pleasure escaped her throat, making him add more pressure to their lips' embrace. His tongue quickly parted that sweet mouth, delving into her, tasting her. His skillful hands sliding up from her waist to hold her mouth to his. She did not fight him, desire stirring in her as well, letting him do to her what ever he wanted.

His lips left hers for a moment, grazing over her cheek, jawline and to the sensitive skin of her throat. His hand drifting over the ties of the chemise.

"Do I please you, my love?" He growled against her flesh, moving his lips and tongue to her collarbone.

"Yes…" She breathed, her eyes closed, her hand once again tangled in his dark hair. He groaned, devouring the sensitive flesh at her shoulder. The chemise easily slipping down so that he could do so.

They both seemed to be trembling…not used to all of the exquisite contact of another.

Mixed emotions for Erik confused her…She loved him…or maybe it was pity? No…she desired him…cared for him…hated him? What was it that she felt? His dexterous fingers tangling at the ties of her shift made her sober from her drunken, desire filled thoughts.

She gasped, her hand coming down on his to stop him. "I…I cannot…" She breathed anxiously.

"Oh, Christine…you know that you want me to do this to you…your mind is screaming at you to let me…but is your heart willing?"

"My heart always tells me no when you touch me…I can't trust it anymore…" She gasped again as his hand ran across the tops of her breasts.

"You want this…as much as I do…I see the want in your eyes, Christine…you are afraid…afraid of the unknown…" He said softly, respectfully removing his hand from below her throat, sliding it back up to meet her blushing cheek.

She swallowed, finding it hard not to be caught in his gaze. "Yes…" She whispered, just before his lips found hers again. He could drink from those lips for an eternity!

He layed at her side, bringing one knee to rest just between her legs. His own desire evident to her, making her blush a deeper crimson. His hand was still holding her porcelain face, the skin so warm beneath his death's hand. He could feel the heat from her on his knee, making him kiss her all the more deeper, the taste of her not satisfying him completely.

She sucked in a shuddering breath, breaking the kiss, turning her head away, only for his lips to kiss and lick at her neck…sending shivers down her spine.

"Erik…" She whimpered, wanting desperately for him to be off of her…inside her…she didn't know what she wanted! She felt his leg over hers, so close to her, their body heat near unbearable.

"What do you want, Christine? What do you want me to do?" He continued his trail of kisses on her neck and throat. His hand sliding down from her cheek, down the curve of her breast to rest on her hip.

"I..I-I don't know, Erik…"

"Please don't tell me to stop…I don't think I'll be able to…"

This both frightened and aroused her, knowing full well he could take her at any moment if he really wished to. What was stopping her? Raoul…he was gone…happily, with Meg.

Erik…a man…loved her completely…to the far reaches in his dark soul…He wanted her…she wanted him…He was her husband now…and she his wife.

Maybe it was the little girl in her…that always dreamed of the big white wedding…with all the fine details…her handsome husband…sweeping her off her feet…

But this was real life. She was not about to let her childhood dreams affect their lives, as it would never be. In truth, she had wanted a husband to love her unconditionally, forever…and now she had one.

She placed her trembling hands on his scarred face, the skin rough beneath her soft fingers. He stopped kissing her, letting her guide his face up to look at her. She found his golden specs easily, finding them darkened with desire.

"What is it, my love?" He whispered, his hand coming up into her hair, caressing it back.

"Be gentle with me…"