Author's Note: This chapter is in the point of view of Erik, as requested by a few readers. I didn't originally plan to include this, but I thought it was a good way to show what exactly is his train of thought, as well as feature what drives him to act the way he is. I wanted to show it at this point because it is the trust transition where not only we see the difference in Erik's behavior, but Christine sees it as well. I haven't really written a phic in Erik's POV, so this chapter was interesting to write for me. It is in all italics to emphasize that this is covering material already written and that it is inside of Erik's mind. I hope you all enjoy, and thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews, your favoriting and your following. I love and appreciate each and every one of you!

P.S. - anybody know where the title of this chapter comes from? Extra points if you remember the significance to any Phantom story :)

- Phantom's angel

She was the most stunning thing I had ever imagined. The beauty seemed to glide as she moved down the street, sweeping the pavement with her magic as she walked away from me, as all beauty should. No woman deserved to be sought after by a beast such as myself, yet the curl in her hair and the pout of her lips… I couldn't help but follow. I resigned from keeping within the shadows I lived in and kept a distant pace from her for nearly 3 months. Her schedule became mine and her steps guided me to the parts of the city I once avoided, drawing me away from the University where I first fell to her spell.. I became a teacher and a student to her course, lured in by the aesthetic purity of her face. I learned that she was a student and a server at a diner, acquiring finances from the well-being of her parents living upstate. Clearly, she lived the charmed life I never knew, as she should. For the meantime, she was pleasing to stare at.

I'd never intended to come into her life. I just wanted to observe her from the side; to view her life as a story I'd never get to experience.

Until she made one wrong turn.

I kept my distance as she entered the alley, knowing from observation that this particular corridor would be unwise to travel through. I'd seen the man with the hood before, and watched as he called another young woman 'beautiful.' She was not nearly as striking as this evening's girl in passing. He pulled the plain looking girl in the same way he'd held my interest and held the knife to her neck. Unfortunately for her, I was not inclined to aid in her protection. Instead, I watched with a repulsive mentality as he completed his task of raping the girl and slitting her throat just as he was finishing up. But tonight, he would not get his fill. He would not dispose of this beautiful creature the way he was accustomed.

From across the street, I could see his attention turn to the alley, catching his next victim from the distance. He stepped off the curb and quickened his pace just in time to meet Christine near the end of the alley's entrance. He addressed her in his usual manner and then pulled her around, giving me a brief thrill as he held the knife close to Christine's neck, then lapped up the blood like a wolf. I gave him his moment of thinking he would get away with his deed, then took him by surprise.

I removed the demon who tried to taint her and cradled her in my arms the entire journey, far from the safe streets of the city and into the slums of Alphabet City. The girl was light as a rose; small and fragile as she rested with her cheek against my chest.

She rested for so long in the hole which I was forced to live. Away from the world, I tried to maintain distance from the unstable of mind who found themselves homeless and separated my status enough to at least feel ownership of a run down basement dwelling. It was the best I could do given my circumstances, and the best I could provide for the beauty. I feared her concussion to be much worse than I'd measured and dreaded that I would lose her, though her corpse would make a lovely prize to look at for at least a few days. But finally, her muscles began to react to dreams and eventually, I realized I would get to keep the angel as a living being. Her hand rested against her waist, lifting with each breath she took in, while her lips formed the slightest smile, clearly content in the sleep..

Gently, she began to stir.

The girl was panicked when she realized what had passed the night before. She thrashed beneath the cover and looked around the room for an answer, but I remained quiet. I suddenly didn't want her to be awake. I didn't want to deal with explanations, but as her eyes turned from the rose I left for her on the nightstand, she looked in my direction, scanning over my form. Then she looked back toward the door across from us both, looking at the slight trail of light from the window partially above ground. As a migraine took hold of her pretty little head, I gained my courage and spoke to her for the first time.

The poor girl noticed the mask. If only she knew the terror that lie beneath…

She was so vulnerable laying there in such a state. How easy it would have been to take on her original attacker's plan, yet I was not that much of a monster. Instead, I spoke to her and answered her questions, assuring her I was indeed not that man who had attacked her the night before.

I coaxed her back to sleep, which allowed me more time to reflect on the situation. How could I go about this fixation of mine now that I had her in my home?

Oh, there were many hurdles to cross, but after saving her, I felt far more entitled to her. The obvious issue was her attachment to that boyfriend of hers. She believed she was in love with him, but she didn't know any better. Surely, he had never given her the thrill I was feeling then, as she looked at me from my own bed, petrified from her whole ordeal. Surely, she'd never experienced the love I now felt surging through my veins. I'd die for the girl, then and there. Hell, I even killed for her.

Yes, these hurdles would be taken care of. Even though it was the boy she sought out first upon her arrival home, she would come around. She would come around and she would learn who truly loved her. I just needed to get into her head.

I started off slowly by reintroducing myself. I felt I'd need to spend time persuading her, but after one night, she was asking for my return already. It was all going better than I'd planned.

Despite her preexisting anxieties toward men, she trusted me enough as a cover against them, shielding her from their lustful eyes as we walked from the university in Greenwich Village to her apartment in Sutton Place. What a lovely little neighborhood she lived in, and how truly pleased I was to escort her there every evening. She shied away from me quite often, but as she returned back to my side, I knew there was hope. She lived against her divinities, reason which should have shunned a creature like me from her life, but her wounds made her different. I knew her fear was heightened by the encounter that brought us together, but it was the one mystery that remained just that from me. The rest I learned was just surprises…

Such as her artistic abilities.

I was pleased to be invited to attend her art gallery, where her greatest work was inspired by me. It showed me how much she was truly meant to be mine. Yet I found myself even more pleased to see how much she'd seemed to be forgetting about that boy of hers. I watched her send him out, and I had her alone again. What a foolish man he was, to leave dear Christine alone to me.

With the rapid progress we had been making, I dared a tricky move. It started as just a mere fantasy of mine, but turned to reality during our first encounters together. I wondered, 'perhaps she'd follow me?' Her pretenses made her hesitant, but eventually she gave in and did follow. I was able to release her hand and she stayed. She did not cower from me as I led her through the darkness of my world, but looked about herself tentatively.

Yes, I offered her escape, and she wanted it. Her life of schedules and order would be vanquished by my offer of quiet and darkness. I wanted her to feel like I did; to see that darkness was nothing to be afraid of, but to cherish. That she was not meant to live the ordinary lifestyle of the bustle in the city. She was meant to shine, but even diamonds grow beneath the surface of the earth. She grew comfortable with the idea; with me holding her against me. Her head rested within my arm and I could feel her weight pressing against me. She was giving herself to me. She truly wanted what I had to offer…

And then she withdrew.

Nothing I wasn't prepared for, though I do regret having to take the extreme of measures. The silence of my world now mocked me as I carried her once again in my arms, but this time, there was truly no turning back.

She was quite angry when she woke, though not as bad as I had expected. Her little fists beat against me, but I remained strong despite feeling afraid I'd loose her. My fears were confirmed when she kept herself inside of the room, spending nearly a full three days locked away. My fear grew to anger as I began to believe that she would rather starve herself rather than spend the rest of her time in my presence. I resigned to letting her choose that course of fate, cursing her in each piece I wrote and feeling I'd forever fail in the art of women.

But then she emerged.

Surely, the starvation was getting to her, as I saw her cheeks puckered in and her already petite frame looking emaciated. Her eyes were swollen and shadowed by sorrow, and I knew her only purpose for removing herself from her shelter was for nourishment. Her resentment for her predicament sent her back rather quickly to her confines, but I had faith now that she would give in. It was the only thing I ever had such faith in.

As the time slipped by even more, her image was still fresh within my mind. It was my constant reminder that if I just crossed into the room and forced my way in, I could see her in person again. Meanwhile, I occupied my fragile mind with nothing but her. Her lips, her eyes, her hair, her nose, her hips, her waist... All so fragile and pure, and all I could think of within the silence of the room.

Even as she came from the room again, she was silent at my side, just as I liked it. Her questions were few and she wanting nothing more than my presence for her company. If I didn't believe it before, I fully believed now that this girl, my Christine, was sent solely for me. I only feared what would become of her soul.

She too must have feared it, because as she asked of the man who tried to rape her, I watched her skin turn pale. A wash of grey enveloped her porcelain features, but she remained calm. Oh, I knew she didn't know it, but I could see the glint of satisfaction cross over her eyes, pleased with my work. I had pleased the angel…

Christine was beginning to understand. She had learned how we live and how to enjoy being alone. It is clear that she longed to see me each morning and that she needed my aid. She knew that no other man could possibly be worthy of her, because they could not appreciate her beauty more than I. Her questions to me were no longer interrogations, but asked through curiosity. Like me, Christine was born to create, like I have molded her into her new form.

Her beautiful blue eyes, still soft despite her troubles, gazed upon me as a real man; the mask no longer existed! Her fear had transcribed from her heart to the pages of her drawings and she sees more clearly now. She uses the supplies I stole for her as an outlet and returned to look to me as her only protection. I was her one and only in my world.

The proof lied across the wall, where all that existed was her and I. Within twelve days, I'd molded a fearful child into a woman who found a new idol.

Time began to fly,, but we could stretch it on forever. She had clearly forgotten the boy and her fears. All she needed now was me. Despite my disadvantages, she remained beauty enough for the both of us, and she remained mine. For twelve days, she had been mine, but for a million more, she will remain.

I reminded her of the count on days, and I felt her catch her breath. She knew she can't leave now, but I wouldn't offer her a permanent place here until the last of fourteen days. Two more days, and she would truly be mine…

Even now, I feel it. She trusts me, and remarkably, I trust her to make the right decision. I trust her enough to share the few pieces of life I've lived worth sharing. We trust each other enough to listen, and I listen to her biggest of fears; the cause of all her mistrust toward man. Her most vital secret is out and we are both still alive. Her confession binds her to me and I will never, ever let her go now.

And she grabs me, and kisses me, and holds me… my angel – my beautiful, precious Christine – wants me. She is mine and she is beautiful. She is more beautiful than I should be allowed, and I try and resist her. I should not have her, because I should not place such damnation on her lovely soul. She lives in the light and now shines it down on me, in my hell of a world. She pulls me closer and presses against me. I should not be allowed this bliss.

I wrap my arms around her anyway. I slip my tongue against hers, feeling my passion take over. Neither of us should be diving this deep, but she presses closer and accepts my offer, running her lips against mine. I am holding a woman for the first time in all my life, and I'm not letting go now. I regret nothing more in my life than this moment, but I keep at it, holding on to the thread which she dangles over my head. After all this, and she is now in control of me.

All my life, I hid from the world and had been ousted, abandoned and ridiculed, and now, I hold true beauty in my arms. And nobody else can have her, as I swore in that moment. As I ran my fingers through her hair, I was placing my claim over her. I felt her delicate hands pull me closer, her breath hot against me and her body pressed so close…

I felt a stretch from my stomach to my loins, begging me to initiate further, yet my stubborn brain denied my actions. It would be so easy – much easier now than ever before – to take her as mine. I deserved her because she chose me.

I felt the boil inside me, her body against mine, her hands against my cheeks, her breath against my neck, and a breeze against my face…

"Damn you!"