Thank you again for all of the reviews! I'm having so much fun spending quality time with these characters =) Keep letting me know what you think!

Chapter 10

Christine woke very early the next morning and left the apartment long before Erik and Aunt Alice stirred. Paris was so peaceful in the morning with the first light shining over the buildings and the sounds of the vendors and street workers preparing for the hustle and bustle of the day.

It was a nice morning, the warmth of spring finally settling over the city. Christine walked along the Seine, taking in the sunlight glistening off the water as her mind spun in circles.

Even before she had kissed him, Christine knew where this was headed. She knew that as soon as she brought his lips to hers she was making a far bigger commitment than one simple kiss. Erik loved her. Christine didn't think Erik could handle the emotional trauma of her leaving him again. If any part of her had thought that may have changed, the way he kissed her and his declaration of love afterward had proven that theory wrong.

But what about her? Christine knew what Erik needed, but she mattered too. Did she love him? She knew she shouldn't, and yet, she longed to kiss him again. Any time Erik smiled at her, Christine's heart contracted. But even if she felt something for him, where did she see this going? Could she marry a man who was dead to all of Paris? A man who had murdered so many others and haunted her for months? A man who had kidnapped her and tried to force her to marry him?

She had told him in the lair that any tears she shed for his dark fate had grown cold and turned to tears of hate. Was that true now, though? Christine knew Erik so much better. She understood his tortured mind and the desperation that had led him to such drastic measures. He was not a phantom; he was an abused child who had never been loved. And yet, he found in his broken soul the ability to love her. He cared for Christine, held her when she was crying. They could spend hours together, lost in their music. When she looked at his deformed face, Christine saw the man he was–broken and beautiful. Forever a perfect contradiction.

Christine stared out over the water of the Seine, her mind moving to her father. What would he have said about Erik? Christine remembered her father once telling her that a person's music revealed their soul. Erik's music was often so angry, but when he played for her, it was so tender, almost like a lullaby. Her father would have loved Erik's music for her.

"Christine?"

At the sound of her name, Christine practically leapt from the bench, awoken from her reverie. Standing before her was Meg.

"Meg! What are you doing here?" Christine gasped.

"I was just going for a walk before call time at the theater," Meg said. "Are you alright?"

Christine nodded, sliding over to make space for her friend to join her. "Yes, I'm fine. I was just lost in thought."

"About what?"

"Erik."

Meg nodded. Christine had told Meg that Erik was living with her again as soon as she had found him. "What about him?"

Christine took a deep breath. "I kissed him last night."

"Christine!"

Christine's cheeks flushed at Meg's surprise.

"Do you love him?" Meg asked in a quieter voice.

"Maybe…"

Meg shook her head. "How is it that I am still looking for a rich man to run away on the arm of and you've managed to fall in love with two of them? Granted, one is the opera ghost, but still."

Christine laughed. "I don't think Erik fits your definition of 'proper marriage material.'"

"He loves you and can take care of you, right?"

"Yes, but I've also been taking care of him a lot these days," Christine mused.

Meg thought about this for a second. "True, but also you're Christine. You always take care of others–your father when he was sick, your aunt, even Erik in some ways when you first met him. I always thought you fell in love with Raoul because he promised to take care of you for once. But at the end of the day you don't want to be taken care of. You want to be free."

Christine stared at Meg, her words racing through Christine's mind. "You may be right, Meg."

"Of course, I am! I'm your best friend after all!" Meg jumped up from the bench and held out her arm. "Come on, let's go for a walk before we have to be inside all day!"

Christine returned home after a two-show day feeling exhausted. She found Erik curled up on the sofa, lying in fetal position, mask and wig discarded on the coffee table. Christine smiled. He looked so vulnerable and innocent like that, though he slept with a troubled expression.

Christine knelt beside the sofa and gently ran her fingers down his good cheek, his deformities almost completely hidden by the pillow. Erik's eyes fluttered open at her touch.

"Sorry," Christine whispered.

Erik blinked a few times before speaking. "Don't apologize. I'm glad you're home," he said.

"Me too," Christine said.

They fell into a comfortable silence, gazing at each other's faces. Christine continued to absentmindedly graze her fingers across his cheek.

Erik disrupted the moment by sitting up. Christine moved to sit beside him on the couch, curling into his side. Erik tensed uncomfortably beside her. Christine took Erik's arm and guided it around her shoulders. He relaxed a bit. He glanced at her, and Christine caught a glimpse of the childlike wonder on his face.

"How was your day?" Christine asked.

"It was good. I've been composing a piece for you to sing. It's not ready yet, but I cannot wait to hear you sing it."

"I can't wait to sing it," she said.

They sat together, discussing their days. Christine told Erik about her performances, what went well and what went poorly. He told her more about some compositions he was working on. This moment felt so normal. Christine could have sworn she was curled up with Raoul on the sofa, but instead it was her strange angel beside her.

Christine felt a pang of guilt and sadness thinking of Raoul. She missed him. She also knew, though, that she would never be curled up on the sofa with Erik discussing her performances had she stayed with Raoul. And she wouldn't trade this moment for anything.

Soon, Christine felt her eyelids beginning to droop. Erik glanced down at her as she nestled closer into his side.

"You're tired," he observed.

Christine nodded sleepily into his shoulder, her eyes closed.

"Alright, bedtime for my beautiful opera singer," he announced. He scooped her into his arms and easily lifted her off the sofa. Erik carried Christine to her room and laid her in her bed. He carefully covered her with the blankets then turned to leave.

"Erik," she called.

"Yes, Christine?"

"You can kiss me goodnight," she said.

Christine's eyes were closed, but she sensed him tentatively approach the side of her bed. He knelt down beside her and kissed her forehead tenderly. Christine smiled.

"Goodnight, Erik."

"Goodnight, Christine."

Christine attended mass the next morning, dutifully ignoring Raoul, who sat with Philippe on the opposite side of the sanctuary. She spent the rest of the day reading in the sitting room while Erik poured over his compositions. Alice was feeling very fatigued, so they let her sleep most of the day. Christine tried to tell herself that this was normal, but she still worried for her aunt.

The bright sky outside the window turned pink then eventually faded to black. Christine and Erik prepared a simple supper together. As they finished eating, Erik took a deep breath.

"Would you be willing to go for a walk with me?" he asked sounding confident, but Christine could sense the uncertainty in his voice. He seemed nervous.

"It's dark outside," Christine pointed out.

"I'll keep you safe. I would love to get out of this apartment for a bit, but I don't want to go anywhere without you."

Christine blushed. "Alright."

The next thing Christine knew, she was walking down the streets of Paris in the dark of night beside a masked man in a large black cloak. Christine slid her arm through his, even though he didn't offer.

The streets were quiet, and there was a chill to the air. Erik seemed to have a plan of where they were headed, and Christine allowed him to take her there without a question. She nervously looked around, keeping her eyes peeled for dangerous folk. Erik seemed to notice this.

"I won't let anyone harm you," he said quietly, a warmth to his voice.

She nodded. "I know. It's just instinct, I guess."

"A good instinct."

"That's how I've survived so many years on my own," Christine said.

Just then, they arrived at the Jardin des Tuileries. As they wove their way through bushes and trees, the night became quieter. Finally, they arrived at a fountain. Christine saw no one, although she was sure there were homeless people sleeping throughout the gardens. They sat on a bench looking out at the water together.

"You're not what I expected, Christine," Erik said after a few moments of silence.

"How so?" she asked, unsure what to make of this observation.

"I guess, for so long I built up this idea of who you were in my mind. I expected you to serve me and sing for me. You were supposed to be the doll in the wedding dress, not a living, breathing person with your own agenda and story. When I realized you had a will of your own, I became angry. I lost myself."

"You dropped a chandelier on me," she said quietly.

Erik nodded. "And I kept thinking tricks and deception would bring you to me. But I was wrong, and I lost everything. And then you came back for me…" Erik trailed off.

"I thought about you every day since I left you at the Opera. I thought about our kiss and the way you said, 'I love you.' When I found out where you were, I knew I had to find you. It wasn't even a choice," Christine said wistfully.

"How could you think of me when I treated you so?" he asked, his voice breaking.

"Because I understood you, finally. I always cared for you, from the first day you spoke to me in my dressing room. But that night after Don Juan Triumphant, I finally understood your desperation and realized you had hope."

"When I came to live with you, I don't think I even really knew what was happening. And then you fed me, let me become a part of your family, and treated me with compassion. Christine, I love you. Not the idea of you I had, but the real you. The Christine who makes me laugh and takes me by surprise." Erik spoke with utter sincerity, as though the words were coming from his heart rather than his mind.

Christine turned to face Erik. His mask reflected the moonlight, and beneath that his eyes were full of emotion. He looked so beautiful. Christine took his face in her hands and kissed him gently. She felt his mask digging into her face, but she didn't mind. She knew, though, that she preferred to kiss him without the mask. When she pulled away, she cuddled into Erik's side. This time he put his arms around her without being asked. He even wrapped her in his black cloak, protecting her from the cold night air.

"What can I do to make you love me?" he asked after a few moments.

"Just keep being you," she said simply.

With her words hanging over them, they both gazed out at the gardens and up at the night sky. They were no longer confined to the depths of the opera house. Instead, the vast array of stars above reminded them of the multitudes that surrounded them.