Erik arranged the food on a wooden platter, wishing he had something fancier to present with. It wasn't much, but it would be enough. Once Christine left, he would go out for more supplies. He hadn't realized that he was so low. He walked into the main area and put down some blankets, hoping to make the cold room a little more inviting. Placing the platter on the piano bench, he looked at the time. It had been nearly forty minutes since Christine had fallen asleep.

Gingerly, he opened the door and peered inside. She was lying on her back, fast asleep. Erik wondered if he should even wake her when she mumbled something. Curious, he stepped closer and stood next to the bed, turning his ear toward her.

"Who you are," she murmured. He raised an eyebrow. Was she asleep? Did she mean to ask who he was? Without thinking, he replied.

"Who I am?" he spoke, bewildered. Christine stirred, seemingly uncomfortable. He cursed himself silently before taking a deep breath. He gently shook her shoulder before her eyes opened.

"Erik?" she whispered, focusing on him. To her surprise, his mask was still on. She stared at him, realizing that she had been dreaming.

"Are you hungry?" he asked with a charming smile. Christine nodded, remembering that they were supposed to be celebrating. Slowly, she sat up and looked up at him.

"I'm starved," she teased, stretching. A pang of guilt hit him, but he brushed it off. It wasn't the most magnificent dinner, but it would do. He held out his hand, and she graciously took it. "Did I say something before I woke up?"

"You mumbled something, but you were just dreaming. Come," he encouraged, leading her back into the main area. She grinned, seeing the makeshift living area with blankets and a platter of food. There was even a bottle of wine and two glasses. "It isn't much, but…"

"It's wonderful. Thank you," she smiled up at him. For a moment, he lost his breath. Recovering quickly, he walked over to the wine and opened it. Christine waited a moment before she sat down on the heap of blankets in front of him as he poured.

"To you," he whispered as he handed her a glass and toasted. She brought her glass to his as well.

"To my Angel of Music," she informed before taking a sip. Erik sat down across from her, taking a drink as well. "What did you prepare for us?"

"Bread, cheese, and a small array of fruits," he explained hesitantly. She couldn't help but notice that he seemed a little embarrassed. Christine knew that the celebration was a last minute decision, but she wondered if he wanted a grander feast. So, she grinned and took a strawberry from the platter.

"Erik, this is delicious," she encouraged, hoping to make him smile. Instead he grimaced. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, Christine. You deserve so much more than blankets and bread. You deserve banquets in grand halls," he sighed, shaking his head. She deserved what the young boy could give her, and what he himself could not. Erik turned away, afraid that she would come to her senses and leave. However, he didn't hear any movement.

"I don't need banquets, or grand halls. A picnic is much more fun than a stuffy formal feast," she argued. There was a certain irritation in her voice that he hadn't picked up before. Curious, he turned to her. "The fact that you were even willing to put this together means the world to me, I promise."

"It does?"

"Yes. No one's ever thought to do this for me before," she insisted before laughing to herself. "And I'm so glad you didn't postpone this so you could make it grander."

"I didn't even think of postponing this," he replied, surprised at himself.

"And I appreciate it. It means that you enjoy my company, not the pomp and circumstance," she informed firmly, eating a piece of bread. Erik stared at her in disbelief, but he mentally chastised himself for thinking otherwise. She was the kindest woman in the world, and he needed to give her credit for being such.

"I do enjoy your company," he said absentmindedly. Christine beamed at the admission and nodded.

"And I enjoy yours," she replied before sipping. Erik sighed, shaking his head. "Now, lighten up. We are supposed to be celebrating!"

"Of course," he chuckled, bringing the wine to his lips. Silently, he warned himself not to drink too much in front of her.

"Any plans for the rest of the evening?" she asked after a moment of comfortable silence. Erik glanced up at her, concealing his panic. He hadn't thought passed dinner, and she noticed. "Would you mind if we did practice?"

"If that's what you want to do, then we shall do it," Erik answered with a nod. Christine grinned, thinking her face would split in half if she tried to smile wider.

"Truly?"

"I don't see why not."

"Can we…" she began before rethinking her questions. Erik looked at her, surprised to find her tongue tied. With a sigh, she continued. "Can we play your opera?"

"My opera?" he repeated, genuinely surprised again.

"I've been looking over Aminta's part for a while now," she mentioned, avoiding his gaze. He held back a laugh by clearing his throat.

"I was wondering where that went," he commented, a little sterner than he had anticipated. In all honesty, he should have guessed that she had stolen it away. "Do you have it with you?"

"No, it's up in my dormitory, but I have memorized the lines."

"You memorized them?" Erik repeated again, starting to sound like a parrot. Christine bit her lip as she nodded, noting that his voice was void of any positive emotion. He was shocked, and wasn't sure how to respond to such wonderful words. Embarrassment caused her to avoid eye contact as the room fell silent. He wasn't upset that she had taken the music, but he was elated that she had taken the time out of her day to learn his music. Music that he had written for her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered after more silence. He shook his head to leave his reverie before looking at her.

"There's nothing to apologize for," he replied with a smile. She cautiously looked up at him, not fully believing him. "Although, I would like the music back when you have a chance."

"Of course," she replied, more formal than he would have liked.

"I haven't finished Act III just yet," he added, hoping to enlighten her. She only nodded. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she firmly replied, looking toward the water. He hummed a noncommittal response, not believing her. She sighed as he stared, hoping to get her to admit her thoughts. "I've found myself rather embarrassed."

"How so?"

"I shouldn't have said that I learned that part. I thought you would be…" she whispered, feeling as if she was digging herself a deeper hole. "Happier?"

"Happier?" he laughed. He gingerly touched her shoulder, causing her to meet his eyes again. "I promise that nothing has made me happier than to know that my music moved you so much."

"So you're not upset that I took that part?" she asked. Erik paused, both relieved that she had the music and irritated that she had taken it in the first place. He wondered which would win out before he shook his head.

"I'm not upset, although, I would caution you against that in the future," he mentioned. He hadn't worked on the opera since he had introduced it to her, as he was busy with more lessons and running the opera house. He had written a few notes over the last few days, but hadn't seriously worked on it. If he had tried to and found that Aminta's part was missing, he wondered what he would have done. Erik clenched his jaw as he realized that he would have gotten rather upset.

"I understand," she answered, relieved to see that he wasn't angry.

"Why did you take it, though?"

"I wasn't sure if I was going to see you so soon after you brought me back. I wanted to take something to remind me of you," Christine muttered, looking at her hands in her lap. She took a deep breath. "I was also hoping to surprise you by knowing the lyrics."

"I would say your plan worked, my dear," he replied. Christine nodded, still feeling foolish. Erik handed her glass, hoping that she would relax again. Carefully, she took it from him and tried not to gulp the drink down. "I was very surprised."

"Well, good," she sighed, shaking her head. Although, she then wondered why she wanted to show him that she knew the lyrics so badly. At first she thought that it was because he was her teacher, and she wanted to show off. However, now that she thought about it, it felt more personal than that.

"Christine?" he asked, dragging her back to reality. She offered a smile, and took another drink.

"We don't have to practice, though," she back pedaled, making him laugh.

"I think we should. Help me again with your voice," he suggested as she stared at him. She was still unsure, still embarrassed of the thought. After eating a piece of cheese, he stood and held out his hand. "Please sing for me."

"Alright, but only because you asked so nicely," she whispered, hiding a smile. She took his hand and walked with him over to the organ by the wall.