Erik did not speak for a long time. He simply watched her, gazing up at her in awe. Christine stared back, her eyes apologetic, and the slight, sad smile still on her lips. The only sound was the crackling of the fire.

"Gentle Creature," Erik thought, "How is it that you have come to be so kind, even to that beast which imprisons you here? How ironic it is that the monster should recoil in fear from the touch of his innocent captive, rather than the other way around. Gentle Creature... How could I ever fear you? You would never hurt Erik again, would you Christine? You wished merely to... to care for Erik?" His brow furrowed in confusion beneath the mask.

"I'm sorry to have frightened you," he heard her say softly. He blinked.

"Christine?" he said in wonder before slowly rising to his feet once more. They stared at each other. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to reach out and brush his bony knuckles against the softness of her cheek, to feel the delicacy of her warm, living skin. He did not.

"I... I should go," he stammered instead, and gave a curt little bow before exiting the room.

Christine sighed, feeling relief tinged with disappointment at being left alone at last. She had spent nearly the entire day with Erik, and was glad to find herself with a little space to breathe, yet she was sorry to have driven him away.

"Oh Erik," she mused "I wish you trusted me. I wish things were not so awkward. I'm so afraid, Erik. Of you, of the things I feel, of the things you make me feel. I'm not ready Erik! I'm still just a girl! But you've waited so long... You don't need a girl, do you Erik? You need a woman. I want to be a woman for you Erik, I do! But I'm so terribly frightened!" She buried her face in her hands and let out an exasperated sigh.

"I want to love you, Erik," she whispered, "But I simply don't know how."

Erik, meanwhile, was pacing back and forth in the privacy of his bedchamber.

"She is so damnably good!" he thought to himself, pausing to run a hand over his hair, "How could a thing like me ever hope to become worthy of her? Christine, Christine, you are like the beautiful Tamara for whom the Demon harbored his secret affections. The wretched Demon, whom the angels condemned to eternal solitude. Dare Erik hope his fate will be different?" He brought his hand down roughly upon the keys of the organ, eliciting a loud, dissonant chord.

"My, but that was ugly," he mused, "And yet..." He played it once more, this time softer.

"Yes, there is beauty in that ugliness. But it takes another..." (Here he played a different chord with his other hand, producing a strange yet exquisite harmony.) "To bring out the beauty in something so hideous."

Erik stayed there for a moment, smiling as he gazed down at where his hands rested upon the keys before quickly jotting down the chord combination. "For my Don Juan, perhaps? Yes... an aria for my Don Juan Triumphant, or perhaps a duet!My god, to have Christine sing that music..." He closed his eyes, letting out a soft groan.

"No, Erik must not think such things!" he said aloud, opening his eyes and beating himself over the head, "Nasty, nasty Erik! Wicked Erik! No!"

He decided that he had had quite enough excitement for that day, and perhaps it would be best to simply lay down and rest for a time before preparing dinner. Removing his shoes, jacket, mask, vest, and cravat, he climbed into the coffin and shut the lid. Relief washed over him at the familiarity of the dark, enclosed space.

"Too much time spent up above," he muttered, "Erik needs the dark, the damp. But perhaps Christine can help... good little Christine... she won't let them hurt me... Christine..." He nuzzled his face against the cool satin lining of the coffin, relishing the smooth sensation after hours spent in the leather mask. He rather imagined that this was what it would feel like to lay his head upon Christine's naked breast, albeit much warmer. He groaned once more, his slender hands curling into fists.

"No you old lech, you mustn't touch her! You must not even think of her that way! She is too good for an abomination such as you," he thought, "But surely one little fantasy wouldn't hurt, would it? Christine wouldn't begrudge her poor monster a few fleeting thoughts, would she? She is a very merciful girl... But no, Erik cannot simply take a woman in his mind without regret as other men do, for he is not as other men are. What if she were to find out? Oh, she would begrudge him! The sinful desires of a corpse are not welcome to any lady, least of all to the angel that is Christine."

With these thoughts he forced his lust down, locking it away in the back of his mind. He concentrated on the cold, allowing it to seep into his very bones and extinguish the hot coals of desire that had been dangerously close to igniting a flame. As the chill permeated his being, Erik smiled in relief, falling asleep at last.

A/N: Yes, it has been a long time since I updated. EverlastingLove mentioned in a review that it would be interesting to see a more passionate Erik in later chapters, when natural sexual desires took hold. The concept stewed in my mind a bit, and we get this. So guys, the remedy for writer's block? Sexy times. :)