Disclaimer: Based on the novel by Gaston Leroux. All Phantom related works, as well as lyrics quoted in the story, belong to their respective owners.

Chapter 11 - Reality check

Stay?

Turning around Erik gave Carlotta a questioning look. She just moved her cover aside in silent invitation and when he still stood there frozen she just dragged him down.

Without thinking what he was doing, Erik snuck into the bed and let Carlotta pull him flush against her. Her luscious curves fit perfectly into his wiry frame and he felt his body react against his better will.

Horrified, he tried to put a safe distance between them but she wrapped her leg around his hip keeping him in place.

"It's ok. This is a perfectly natural reaction," Carlotta assured, trying not to show how good it felt to know she'd been the one to cause it.

"I know that. I'm not fifteen," Erik huffed.

This time it was Carlotta's turn to be embarrassed. "Sorry, I just thought that since you never, you know, had sex…"

"I may have not, but in my long life I had some," he paused, unsure how to put it, "some highly educational experiences."

Carlotta's eyes widened in horror.

"I wasn't raped."

She visibly relaxed but he could tell she was dying to know what exactly had he meant earlier.

Sensing she wouldn't get off the topic easily now that he got her curiosity rising, he exhaled deeply and said, "I spent a good deal of time with the Gypsies. They're not exactly prudish. I learned a lot just by watching."

Carlotta nodded. It wasn't any different from kids today learning about sex from watching porn. Still, that didn't exactly count as experience.

"I traveled the world," Erik went on with his story. "I came to know foreign cultures where the approach to sex is very different compared to Europe, where women are being traded like valuables."

"You have been offered a woman as payment for your work," Carlotta guessed.

Erik's face contorted in disgust at the memory before he answered, "Yes, I have, and the first time around I was actually willing to take it."

He'd been young, the newly discovered desires of the flesh burning strong within him. She was a good few years younger, with the skin of gold and long ebony hair.

"So what happened?" Carlotta prompted growing impatient.

Erik lowered his eyes. "I couldn't do it. Not when she cried like that."

He would never forget the look in that girl's eyes. Pure terror. Promises that he'd be gentle, that he wouldn't hurt her like he knew men did in her country didn't help. Then he understood: she wasn't as afraid of the act itself as she was of him. She'd rather be roughly abused by any other men than allow him to even touch her. The mask didn't help when she knew what lay underneath.

"There had been other ones who were braver but I wasn't interested anymore."

Those other women, they neither cried nor pled for his mercy, but he could sense their fear and repulsion, even when they tried to hide it, and it effectively turned him off. Ultimately the experience taught him to regard sex as nothing more than just another form of violence, one he'd rather not engage in.

"You seem interested now."

The comment brought Erik back to the present. "What?" he asked, unsure of what he'd just heard.

Carlotta shifted, making a shockwave travel all the way up his spine. "I said you seem to be interested now."

"Stop it," he warned, feeling his control waver.

She just laughed and then, without a warning, she straddled his hips, then pulled her top off and tossed it away.

He swallowed hard, his eyes skimming over her half naked form.

Why? What did she have to make this so difficult? Didn't she realize that all in all he was just a man like any other, a man that found it very hard not to get excited at the sight of a beautiful girl?

Before he could stop her she leaned down and kissed him. The moment their lips connected the remains of his self-control dissolved as he gave in to the pleasure. His hands shot up to her waist, then traveled up, exploring every inch as if she were a new kind of instrument he was just learning to play.

When they eventually broke for air, he panted, "Stop trying me or I will not hold myself responsible for my own actions," and to make his point he grabbed her hips and ground them hard into his.

"Looking forward to it," she replied, tugging at his waistband.

That was it! In one swift motion, he turned them over and crushed her lips again.

She did nothing to protest, just threw her arms around his neck and pulled him closer still. Before he knew it her fingers found the hem of his shirt and she pulled it over his head, careful not to tear his mask off in the process. Her hands moved down his torso and around his waist, sneaking their way inside his pants.

Before she had a chance to act, Erik pulled her up and holding her with one arm, he yanked at her hair. A second later she felt his lips graze the sensitive skin of her neck and a quiet moan escaped her lips.

There was a click and the lights in the corridor went on. Erik and Carlotta froze, their eyes glued to the door which, they both only now noticed, had been left half open. A shadow passed by, then there was a small creak and a thud of another door being opened and then slammed shut.

"Phew! That was close," Carlotta whispered, getting off the bed to close the door.

When she returned back Erik was on his feet and putting his shirt back on.

"I'd better go now," he said, slipping past her.

She let him, admitting it had been a really dumb idea to try to fuck under their parent's roof. Before it had likely been her brother going to the bathroom. If he had caught them, it would've been a disaster.

Returning to his room Erik dropped into bed feeling like scum. He couldn't believe he let himself go this far. Hadn't it been for that unexpected interruption he would've gone all the way. He knew that he would've. It had been way too hard to resist when Carlotta was this… inviting. Even now, closing his eyes he could still feel the touch of her skin and the taste of her mouth and his pants grew tight again. Consumed by shame he tossed and turned in bed until breaking dawn when he finally fell asleep.

Waking up the next day he decided he had to apologize to Carlotta for his outrageous lack of respect but he couldn't find a moment alone with her, thrown in the whirlwind of Christmas traditions.

After a several-course festive dinner, everyone gathered in the living to unpack their presents. It appeared that Carlotta had thought about getting a little something for everyone: a warm shawl for her mom, a book for her dad, a CD for her brother and a doll for her little sister. Eventually, she approached Erik as well and handed him a small package.

"Come on, open it up!" she urged excitedly.

Erik unwrapped the paper. Inside there was a box containing a modern phone complete with a set of headphones, charger and a sim card.

"I thought it would be handy," Carlotta said, noticing Erik's downcast expression. "I'm tired of talking to walls and mirrors. Makes me feel stupid."

"I like it! Honest! It's just that," Erik's eyes dropped to the floor, "I don't have anything for you."

He hadn't really thought about it. Back in his time, it wasn't custom to exchange presents. Sometimes the rich did it but only for children. Personally, he never received a Christmas gift in his life. That is, until now.

"Erik," Carlotta lifted his chin up so she could look him in the eyes, "I don't need you to buy me anything. You coming with me was all I really wanted."

"I would still like to repay you and your family for the hospitality."

Looking past her, his eyes fell on a black polished piano standing in the corner. An idea formed in his mind and standing up, he announced, "I must shamefully admit I haven't bought anyone presents but perhaps may some music be my gift for you?"

"Sarebbe stupendo!" Elena exclaimed gleefully and Carlotta remembered how her mother always enjoyed listening to her father play.

Sitting at the piano, Erik lifted the lid and caressed the keys almost with reverence. Then he began to play.

Everyone fell silent as pieces from Mozart, Hendel and Bach merged into a single melody under the ghost's skillful fingers. When the last note died out, the room filled out with enthusiastic applause.

Leaning towards her daughter, Elena whispered, "Now I understand why you like him, my dear."

Carlotta blushed. "It's not like that," she mumbled.

Elena only smirked. She could tell her daughter was head over heels for that man. She knew she would've been had she been in her place. Tall, slim, dark-haired, charming, mysterious and above all, musically talented. He just fitted perfectly with Carlotta's usual preference for men.

The afternoon went on filled with more music and chatter over some good food and a couple bottles of wine until eventually, people began to retreat to their beds.

Carlotta was the last one to go, and getting out of the shower, she was surprised to hear music being played downstairs.

Peeking into the living she saw Erik was back at the piano, his black-clad silhouette barely visible in the dark.

The music he played was nothing she would recognize. There was a kind of sadness to it which began to fade as the melody evolved, giving space to joy and hope that soon began to transform into something else. Passion. Rage. Guilt.

The music stopped abruptly.

"I'm sorry."

Carlotta blinked in surprise. Erik knew she was there?

"I'm so sorry," he repeated. "I've been wanting to tell you all day."

It took her moment before she realized Erik was talking about the events the night before.

"It was my fault," she said regretfully. "I shouldn't have forced myself on you."

Now that she thought about it, she'd been acting like a cat in the heat, putting them both in a more than awkward position. God only knew how bad Erik must've felt for the whole day.

"I must admit you were rather," he paused searching for the right word, "straightforward, but it doesn't justify me. I should have had more control over myself."

"Erik," Carlotta said quietly, "you didn't do anything that I would want you to."

"Still, my behavior was disrespectful for the least."

She sighed tiredly. "Then I forgive you. Can we get over this now?"

"Friends like before?"

She nodded. "Yes. Friends."

Erik gave her a smile and she forced herself to smile back.

"Will you play some more for me?" she asked.

"Of course," he said, turning back to the piano.

Making herself cozy on the sofa, she listened, the knot in her stomach tightening with every note. Friends, she thought sadly, they'd always be friends.

Next chapter: Erik visits Milan and finds out a little bit more about Carlotta's past. Stay tuned!

Was she sweet to invite him to stay and sleep with her? Or was she stupid?

Is he an idiot for making so much fuss over a good make-out session?

Did Carlotta get it right when he asked her to stay friends? Or may she be misinterpreting something again?