i meant this story to be on permament hiatus because i saw no development in the characters. but as i was reading it, i realized that something could be done.

disclaim, disclaim, disclaim...

That night, Christine dreamt again. She tossed and turned in her sleep and moaned. Beads of sweat formed on her pallid forehead and shaky breaths escaped her parted lips. Erik watched from the shadows, shivering with embarrassment at what he was doing; he was a peeping tom but he didn't want to end the night as he had. He wanted to hold Christine in his arms and caress her pain away with sweet whispers and gentle rocking. Instead, he settled for watching from afar, making sure that Christine was safe.

From the moment Erik opened the letter, he knew that he finally had a purpose in life. For whoever the letter was addressed to, Erik wanted to find a way to help the poor girl and influence her with his undying passion for music—it had helped him suppress his hatred and fear of himself that he had no doubts it would help the young girl as well. Who knew that the same girl was turning out to be the young woman that he was falling desperately in love with? In all of their sessions together—her in her room, practicing her arias while Erik listened intently from the walls and ceilings—Erik found Christine to be a zealous student, never failing to impress him with each song. At times, she was stubborn, insisting that what she was singing was in the correct pitch and Erik, despite his firm but gentle chastisement, admired her for that.

"No…E-Erik. No,"

His heart stopped beating and his breath hitched in his throat. He could not believe his eyes and ears. Had his angel really twisted on her bed and whispered his name? Erik dared himself to stalk closer to her bed but suddenly Christine opened her eyes and sat up on her bed. Erik knew how to be stealthy and unnoticeable so he quietly moved back into the shadows, away from the soft moonlight filling in a part of Christine's room. She looked around her room, searching for something, found nothing, and then finally laying back on the bed. Within seconds, Erik could hear the soft purr in Christine's throat signaling her deep sleep. All the while Erik's knees were shaking and his fists were caught in tight clenches. Erik decided that he had risked himself enough that night and crept back through the glass window that served as the doorway to their two worlds.

-oOo-

Christine had no intention of getting up from her bed that muggy morning. The weather was frigid cold; clouds overhead were ominous of even worse conditions of sleet and rain, and a troubling weight pressed sporadically on her chest. She turned to her side and tucked herself tightly into her bed sheets to fight the cold in her snug bed. Pondering the night before, Christine swore that when she woke up in the middle of the night, a pair of glowing emerald eyes was staring at her—not in a stalking, fearful kind of manner, but in a protective, primal need to gaze deeply into her eyes. Satisfied that her Angel of Music was watching over her, she went back to sleep unafraid.

It was too early in the morning to be fretful about trivial things such as a man watching a girl sleep, so Christine set aside those thoughts and decided to think about something else. Raoul had not personally said goodbye to her, and she was somewhat hurt that he didn't even have the time or patience to wait for her. Christine could not even understand her relationship with Raoul. She loved him, yes, but at times she feared that Raoul only loved her as a prize to be won and that he valued his career more than he cared for Christine. She shook her head knowing that through all their childhood years, she was certain that Raoul had a true heart—and that hers belonged to him. She just had to satisfy this certain need to see Erik again.

But recent turns of events muddled Christine's mind. Erik revealed himself to her and has been making himself more and more visible to him. Last night was probably the most erotic night of Christine's life and it puzzled her why Erik would have that effect on her so. What confused her even more was why she wanted so badly to see him again.

Just as Christine closed her eyes and succumbed to sleep, someone barged into her room and slammed the door shut. Mme. Giry looked stolidly at the startled Christine but maintained her composure. Christine sat upright in her covers and rubbed her tired eyes, her wavy hair disarrayed around her face.

"What is the commotion about, Mme. Giry? Am I not expected at practice in a little over two hours?"

"Where were you last night, Christine?" snapped Mme. Giry in the most eloquent yet demure ways as possible.

Christine didn't want to explain the entire night to her, especially while she was sleeping, but she didn't want to lie either. She was terrible at lying and she wouldn't be able to do it to save her life.

"After my performance, I went to visit my Angel of Music. Erik is his name, mother! He revealed himself to me, and oh," Christine's eyes closed, reveling in the memory of last night, "I learned so much from him," like the fact that he was there, watching, as my father died, added Christine mentally. Even so, she could not keep herself angry at Erik.

"Christine, I cannot have you dallying around especially now that your career is finally blossoming. Think of how much the de Chagny's have invested in this opera, in you." Mme. Giry tried to explain, walking closer to Christine and sitting at the foot of her bed. She was playing the sweet mother card but Christine's brow furrowed in confusion. She certainly wasn't dallying with anybody! She merely took time after her performance to meet her teacher.

Christine knew not to be cross with Mme. Giry but despite her better judgment, she couldn't control what came out of her mouth. "Dallying? You think I was dallying?! All the time I have been here, I've done nothing but work and practice, and even when my throat was raw and blisters formed at my feet, I still worked and I still practiced! Can't you spare me at least one night to do what I want for a change? I make my own decisions and I am not a girl anymore!" Fuming with anger, tears began to puddle in Christine's eyes.

"Yes, you are not. But then stop acting childish! What has gotten into you, Christine? Is this about Raoul? Because so help me—,"

"This is not about Raoul! This is about me and Erik. I wanted to see him and he wanted to see me, madam. I hardly believe that to be a fault for truancy! I know you know who he is, how else could he have kept himself hidden from me for so long? I forgive you for keeping him from me before, Mme. Giry but I shan't forgive you if you keep me from him." Christine was almost certain that she knew what she was talking about but she was surprising herself as well.

"How dare you speak to me like that, Christine Brigitte Daae! Oh, we shall see about letting you see Erik. From now until I've forgiven you, you will stay here in this room! You are not allowed out, and no one is allowed in. I shall have Romano bring you your meals." With that, Madame Giry stood up and walked to the door. Before she made her way out, a broken whisper stopped her cold in her track.

"Why can't you let me see Erik? Nothing is happening. Nothing…" Christine bowed her head, ashamed to face Mme. Giry with salty tears running down her face. She clutched her bed sheets in favor of not lashing out like a stubborn child despite the fact that she was feeling like one.

Quietly, Madame Giry replied. "You will disobey me, Christine. I know it. But I shall leave it up to you to realize what a mistake it is to fall in love with him." The last thing Christine heard was her bedroom door closing softly.

-oOo-

Erik could not believe what he had just heard. He was still feeling guilty about snapping at Christine then stalking her at night, but his feelings recoiled when he heard with his own ears that Christine had truly wanted to see him again! Surely, she would not want to lay her eyes on his wretched face after what he had done to her? It was terrible enough to watch her run away from him, anguished and torn, but to have her—desperate—to see him again? The very thought of relinquishing her soft touch upon his hand was sinful for his nature.

But the temptation is there.

It was like a drug to him, he needed to be back in the warmth that was Christine or he'd find himself losing his mind. As he paced around in the darkness, he wondered what it was about the girl that caused him to be so drawn to her. Her beauty was unique, timeless, and youthful, but Erik never saw physical beauty to be a characteristic to admire. But her eyes. Oh, her eyes. A man could get lost in a single stare. It was a rarity to find such eyes to be ocher, brown, and amber all at once. The depth of her eyes and the finesse of the shapes of them were most beautiful to Erik. One look and he would fall back in love with her again and again.

Like a candle burst into flame, suddenly there was purpose in Erik's steps as he walked aimlessly in the catacombs of Opera Populaire. He just couldn't ignore the fact that his fate was slowly becoming tied to Christine's. He didn't know how; he didn't know when, but somehow and sometime, he was going to find a way back to her.

-oOo-

After Christine cried for an hour in bed, she decided that wallowing in self pity was not the best way to solve her problem. She never really was much of a rebellious girl, but Mme Giry sparked certain feelings in her that only spurred her intentions of seeing Erik. She got up from her bed, washed her body with the basin on her dresser, and put on a purple dress. As she was brushing her hair, Christine already had plans zooming through her mind: when it's dark, she'd creep out of her room…she'd escape now and find her way into Erik's cave once again…the possibilities were endless—and so were the consequences. She could just hear Mme Giry yelling her head off as Christine looked at her blatantly. Chuckling to herself, Christine knew that she couldn't be so hard on Mme Giry. She only wanted the best for her but Christine wanted to see Erik again and it wasn't going to change. Raoul would be furious with her, she knew, and she had no excuse for herself.

It was twilight and the purple, orange, blue, and yellow colors at war in the sky was soothing to Christine but it couldn't totally suppress the anxiety that she was feeling the whole day. Her hands shook as she sewed some curtains; her palms would grow sweaty as she attempted to sketch in her notebook. Her ultimate plan was to wait until everyone was quiet and it was dark enough to find a way into the mirror where she had first seen her Angel of Music.

It was near that time now, and already the noise outside her room was the clattering of stowing props and costumes away, the quiet chatter of gossips for the day, and the heavy footsteps of tired dancers retiring for the night. Christine's heart beat loudly in her ears and she chided herself for acting so fidgety.

Christine closed her eyes and counted to a hundred before she got up from her chaise and walked quietly over to her full-sized mirror. She looked into her reflection and she realized that she was forgetting something. Just then, there was a quick rap on her door and Christine jumped in surprise. It was only Romano bringing her supper over to her. Christine thanked him and mentally kicked herself for forgetting about him. She abandoned her bread and soup and made her way to her mirror. She took a deep breath and attempted to open the mirror-door. She remembered this certain gateway to be a sliding door and she tried with all her strength to pull the side of the mirror's frame. It wouldn't budge and Christine slammed her tiny fist into the mirror in annoyance. She wiped a couple beads of sweat off her forehead and rested her hands on her hips.

It was dark in her room now. Only a single candle emitting soft light helped her see a little in her room. There wasn't even any moonlight tonight. It was as if even the heavens were giving ominous warnings of Christine's actions. Little did she know that it wasn't only her actions being frowned upon.

She tried opening the door once again but she was stopped as the temperature in her room lowered substantially and a familiar chill ran down Christine's spine. Gathering her strength, she turned around and extended a quivering hand in front of her and felt for nothing in the air.

"E-Erik, I know you're there. Please, show yourself to me." Christine called out into the darkness. Her fingers tingled knowing that they could very well come into contact with his body.

Suddenly, a very cold yet gentle grip took hold of Christine's hand. Long, deft fingers intertwined themselves with hers and the breath that Christine had been holding onto came out in quiet shudders. In the darkness, Christine immediately began searching for Erik's face, bringing up her other hand to feel for it but that hand too was caught in a cold grasp and placed on what seemed to be a broad shoulder. Erik wound his left arm around Christine's waist causing her body to move closer to his. In doing so, Christine could make out the shadows of his clothes, the contoured edges of his mask, and his enigmatic, glowing eyes.

"What are you doing?" Christine managed to whisper. She didn't trust her voice enough so she settled for speaking softly.

"I am dancing with you." A deep, purr-like voice replied, followed by gentle swaying and small movements of their feet. Erik leaned into Christine, seeming to want to kiss her but she heard him inhale deeply. He was smelling her hair. Christine instinctively leaned her head against his chest, satisfied with the vibrations as Erik begun to hum a soft tune as they danced in her room, in the dark.

After what seemed like an eternity of slow dancing, Christine came to her senses and realized that she should actually still be angry with Erik for what he had said to her. He couldn't buy his way out of this one by slow dancing, and making her swoon for him. With that in mind, she quickly shimmied out of his grasp and slammed a fist into his chest in hopes of injuring him but causing him to be startled at most.

"Christine? Why did you hit me?" Erik almost laughed at her feeble attempt to hurt him physically but the ferocious look on her face kept his guffaw at bay.

She didn't reply; he knew the answer. Instead he exhaled and apologized, "Christine, I am truly, deeply sorry for what happened to you father. But I need you to know that it was in my best interests to help you." Still she said nothing.

"Oh, this is ridiculous." Erik saw her move away from him and his heart faltered a beat or two. "I can't see you without any light." Christine moved over to her side table to retrieve the candle and brought it up to her face to see his. Erik realized that she looked more beautiful than any other woman that he laid eyes on in that moment where the candlelight glowed near her face, casting shadows but accentuating her brown eyes.

"Will you forgive me, Christine?" Erik was still guilty. She closed her eyes, shaking her head in defeat. "How could I not?"

Erik grinned widely, feeling like a little boy who was given a piece of candy. He rushed over to her and wrapped his arms around her in a hug.

"Come, we must go." Erik said after breaking the hug.

Feeling elated, Christine could barely hear him through her happiness. "Where are we going?"

"Well I'm taking you away with me, of course!" Erik grabbed her hand and led her to the mirror where he simply pushed and pulled a hidden latch on its side. The mirror gave way and soon a long dark hallway unfolded itself in front of Christine. She knew that she should actually be frightened at his remark but she could careless as she was being led into the darkness, back to Erik's cave, where a swan bed was waiting.

ok, what do you think is going to happen? answer in a review!!! :)