Éponine fought to get his hand out of her hair, pushing and shoving at his arm to loosen his grip. She was used to her father jerking her around but she was not going to let Erik. "Please Erik," She stared at him, reaching her hand out to gently place her hand against his disfigurement. His eyes flickered close at her touch, "If you'd let me I could help forget."

His eyes opened and he let go of her hair, his hand moving along the side of her cheek. Erik could see the fear in her eyes, she was cautious of what his hand was doing and where it would stop. "You fear me."

"Who wouldn't?" She replied, the tips of her fingers tracing the lines of his disfigurement.

Erik narrowed his eyes, wetting his lips with a quick flick of her tongue. "There is no one who doesn't fear me."

"It doesn't have to be this way," Éponine inched closer to him, ignoring the weight of his hand on her shoulder.

"Still pitying the creature?" His hand ran up her neck , staying there to stroke his fingers across the tender skin above her most vital blood vein. "I don't want your pity, Éponine."

Éponine couldn't argue that this wasn't out of pity. How could any person live their life without a kind touch, or gentle pat, a loving kiss. "It's not pity, I just want you to know comfort and compassion."

"Don't." He warned even though he stepped closer to her.

"Your contradict yourself."

"Don't damn yourself." He warned again, staring down at her. She was so bold and so full of herself, she took no warnings and held nothing back. She was a force to be reckoned with.

"I damned my life a very long time ago," Éponine stepped up on her toes, crushing her lips against him.

Erik's mind whirled, launching into a half a dozen questions. He was without his mask, and she still touched him, still kissed him. His lips were free to move against hers, nothing holding them back from indulging in her. His hands grasped her waist, holding her close.

Éponine had expected him to push her away, curse at her, scream at her. Just like last time. But this time she found him desperate for her lips. Her fingers knotted in his hair, brushing her fingers through. His hands ran up the curves of her side, sending shivers through her body.

"No." He hissed pulling away only a breath apart.

"Yes." She pushed her lips back against his. She knew his will was strong, his belief that a man with a disfigurement could never be cared for – or even loved. "Just let go." She said as their lips parted, he pulled her back desperately savouring her with an unbridled ferocity.

Erik pushed every thought of breaking the kiss to go and write the music that was playing in his mind far away. He would not let her get out of this that easily. She'd sealed her fate, and hell had signed his.

He took one step forward, pushing her back with each step. His fingers were tugging at the bodice of her dress, pulling the laces from their homes. Éponine gasped as she felt the swan bed behind her knees. How had they cleared the space so quickly? Was she really that engrossed in his lips?

"No second thoughts," Erik hissed in her ear, as his mouth moved to kiss just above her vein. "No backward glances."

Éponine let him push her back onto the bed, pulling him down with her. "Abandon thought and let the dream descend."

How could she know the music in his soul? "Our bodies entwining, defenceless and silent." Erik bit his lip as she pulled the shirt from his back. His back. He closed his eyes, ready for some piteous question about the scars that were deep and old that covered every spare spot of his body.

But the only thing he felt was her hands tracing along each scar, her lips suckling against the ones on his shoulder. She would be the death of him.

~o~

Antoinette stood there, watching as the Monsieur Pontmercy strolled away. She could not let his arrogance ensnare Éponine in the Phantom's trap for the rest of her living days. She raced after them, "Monsieur!"

"What is it young mademoiselle?" Marius snapped, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Please, if you will not care about her disappearance who will?"

Marius shrugged, "Please if it will keep you from bothering us any longer, go to the ABC Cafe and pester them. Éponine is a big girl; she is capable of taking care of herself. If you truly knew her you would know this. Are you some spy for her father?"

"What?" Antoinette looked confused, "I am no one's spy. I am only concerned for the well being of our mutual friend."

"The streets are not safe, you should return to wherever you have come from." Marius turned, continuing on. There was a thought in the back of his mind that Éponine could genuinely be in danger, but his only concern was spending his time with Cosette while he still had it.

She could not understand why Éponine cared so deeply for such an ungrateful man. What made him so desirable except for his handsomeness? Would he care more if he knew that she was in fact being held prisoner by a madman in the cellars of the Opera House, the very one that he had seen a show a week previous? But who would believe such a story?

Éponine seemed like a strong minded, sensible woman. But was she capable of dealing with the masked murderer that she had fought to control for years. The foolish girl was probably unaware that Erik was a murderer. She was living under the false pretences that his only crime was being hideous and pitiful. But the truth of the matter was that his rage will fill him and he would be unable to control his urge to destroy whatever angered him. The Gypsies could be blamed for instabilities.

But she would be damned if no one would listen to Antoinette.