(Christine)

A rumbling stomach awoke her from her tortured dreams. Languidly stretching her limbs, Christine sat up in bed, pulling the frilly covers to her chest as she yawned deeply, her hands flying to her stomach as it growled loudly. Wondering whether she should call Erik and then deciding against it, she slowly swung her legs over the edge and stood on shaky legs, slipping on the lacy dressing gown that hung behind her door. She paused before she left her room, transfixed by her reflection. Looking like an angel in virginal white, she looked ethereal with her long loose curls messily spilling over her shoulders and framing her delicate doll-like face. Her eyes roving her form, she blushed prettily. She had no idea how transparent her current attire was. Her feminine curves were highlighted by the flickering of the candles that illuminated Erik's home and sensuously cast their golden glow upon her shapely figure. At that moment, she recalled the numerous times she had seen Erik observing her, his eyes wide and fixed upon her until she happened to catch his gaze and he lowered his, and her cheeks tinged a deeper shade of beetroot. Shakily running a hand through her curls, she clutched the fine material closer around her body, and with the rumbling of her stomach audible in her ears, she left her room in search of food.

Silently walking across the living room, she entered the kitchen, clutching her stomach with one arm as she rifled through the cupboards, desperately searching for nourishment.

"Christine." Spinning around, a sheepish look on her face, she faced Erik, dressed in black slacks, white shirt open at the neck and rolled up to his elbows and a deep gold waistcoat that brought alive the spark in his eyes.

"I'm..I'm sorry Erik. I was...I was looking for something to eat." Christine said, her eyes focused on the swirls and patterns that winked in the flickering candle-light.

"Do not stutter Christine." He scolded, and Christine bowed her head, her curls falling like a thick curtain between them to hide her blazing cheeks.

"I'm sorry Erik." She whispered. Erik grasped her face gently within his hand and brought her gaze to his, her eyes looking deep into his.

"Do not apologize Christine. You have nothing to be sorry for." And swiping his cool fingers gently against her heated cheek, he brushed past her and began removing items from the cupboards around her.

"You must eat Christine. I am sorry that I have been remiss in my role. Are you partial to cake?" He asked, filling a kettle and placing it to boil on the hob, and she nodded her head enthusiastically.

"Oh yes. I love it. Thank you Erik." Christine said, and smiled for the first time in many hours.

"Please, do go and take a seat Christine. You must be weary. I can manage, honestly. Rest your sleepy head." Erik said, a gently guiding her arm, he lightly pushed her out of the kitchen, making small shooing gestures playfully.

"Alright Erik." Christine said, and turning to smile at Erik, she left the kitchen and relaxed onto the chaise longue sofa, arranging the skirts of her garments, her mind wandering over the events of the morning.

At that moment, Erik entered, carrying yet another tray laden with huge chunks of chocolate cake, more rolls, a strong, pungent brie and a teapot and cups and saucers. Her mouth watering, she waited as Erik placed the tray down and filled a plate with cake, roll and cheese and handing it to her along with a knife, he began to make the tea. She smiled as he handed her a steaming cup with cream and sugar and took his seat next to her, a saucer of tea held within his hands.

"Erik, I am sorry for earlier. I should not have reacted the way that I did. It was wrong of me to ask you to kill the spider and I am sorry." Christine said, taking a sip of tea, regarding his over the rim of her cup.

"Christine, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for." And taking a sip of his tea, he returned it to the tray.

"I must explain myself though. It is difficult for me to speak of this, but I have a reason behind my despising and fear of spider. You see, it was a long time ago and I was living in the true happiness of youth with both my mother and father. We were on holiday in the Netherlands. It was wonderful. We basked in the golden rays of the sun. That is until my mother became ill. She was bitten by a spider. She died within a few days in agony and there was nothing we could do to save her, although my father tried everything. I've been terrified of them since." Christine said, her voice softening as tears filled her eyes. As if on cue, Erik proffered a handkerchief and she accepted it willingly, dabbing at her eyes gently.

"Oh Christine. I am so sorry. Please forgive me. If I had known..." Erik trailed off, and glancing at him, she could see that his eyes were distant and glistening. Taking her hands within his own, he held them to his chest, pressing a kiss to her palm. She could feel his heart beating through the material of his waistcoat and the steady thud was reassuring to her. She smiled to herself, thanking the Lord that at last she had found someone to care for her. She had shared a very deep, personal moment with Erik and couldn't have been happier to do so. The walls that had been built between them had momentarily disappeared and Christine was privy to Erik's sensitive, weaker side. Progress had been made.

"It was a long time ago. But I miss her terribly." Christine murmured, her eyes wandering Erik's porcelain face.

"I never knew a mother's love." Erik breathed, his fingers dancing in the frilly material of Christine's lacy wrap.

"Oh Erik." Christine sighed, lightly squeezing Erik's hand reassuringly.

" My mother detested the sight of me. My father died before I was born and so of course she hoped that I would be born an exact replica of her beloved husband. But then I was born and reality hit and she realised that he beloved Charles had left her forever as she was instead left with the Devil's child. The first and only gift she ever gave me was a leather mask. I was never allowed to remove it and when she had guests, I was locked away in my rooms. She was ashamed of me. I was her dirty secret and so I ran away just before my twelfth birthday..." Erik stated, breaking off as he noticed that Christine had tears pouring down her cheeks.

"Oh God Erik. I am so sorry." Were the only words that Christine could form. She could barely form coherent thoughts, so stunned and thoroughly distressed by Erik's tale.

"Oh Christine, I didn't mean to upset you. You are too beautiful to be saddened by the tale of a monster. I am not deserving of love. It is I who should be crying for you, having to live without a mother. You deserve love Christine. You are a creature of light and love and I am a monster confined to the shadows..." He was broken off my Christine placing a slim finger to the lips of his mask to silence him.

"Do not say such things Erik. You deserve love Erik. A mother's love should be unconditional and I am enraged that a woman could not love her only son simply because of his physical attributes." The tears making steady paths down her cheeks.

"I have lived too long without love Christine. I am accustomed to it. Please Christine; I implore you not to spill fruitless tears for me." Erik beseeched, and Christine took his large hand in her little one.

"I will be here for you Erik. As long as you need me." Christine said, and shifted closer to Erik's hard body, sculpting hers to mould against his so that her head lay on his shoulder, his hand in hers.

xXx

(Raoul)

Unaware of Christine's current happiness, Raoul continued on his walk around the estate, his mind spinning with conflicting thoughts. What was he to do? He wanted to help, of course he did for in his youth Christine had been the girl of his dreams; he had loved her with all of his youthful heart and had intended to spend the rest of his life with her. But where was he to start? Paris was a metropolis; from the suburbs of the elite to the twisting alleyways of the rabbit warren that constituted the slums. He knew that she could be anywhere in the city, perhaps no longer even with the whole of France, but he had a starting point; Le Soleil Levant tavern.

Several hours later, Raoul was stood outside the tavern, his eyes warily surveying his surroundings. He felt uncomfortable, standing out against the grain even in his oldest clothes which, although several seasons old, were still of finery quality than the majority in this neighbourhood could ever dream of.

"Looking for a good time sailor?" Said one of the many prostitutes, huskily, that stood loitering outside the tavern waiting to sell their wares. She ran her grimy hand up the length of his arm, and he turned, his sense of smell overwhelmed by the foul stench of alcohol and unwashed body.

"No thank you." He said, moving his shoulder to brush her hand off and striding into the tavern, he ignored the cackle of laughter emitted from the gaggle of women.

Marching into the room, he was confronted by the overwhelming absurdity of the situation. He did not belong in a place like this, where men drank away their wages with a succession of foaming pint glasses and women sold themselves for money. He knew nothing about this sort of life. He was a target and he should leave before he found himself at the mercy of a knife pressed to his windpipe.

"Can I help you monsieur?" A voice called from the crowd, and scanning the sea of faces he noticed a man, most likely the landlord, standing behind the bar cleaning glasses as he eyed Raoul almost predatorily.

"I'm looking for a man monsieur." Raoul called, and was soon overwhelmed by the eruption of raucous laughter.

" A man monsieur? Well I'm afraid you've come to the wrong place here, although I do know a great place where a man can indulge in that sort of fantasy." Said one man, grinning like a cat to reveal a mouth full of blackened stumps.

"What I mean to say is I've come in search of a particular man. Perhaps you will be of assistance?"

Sorry to leave on a cliff-hanger. Thank you so much for reading! Please review? :)