Writer's POV

It was very quit in the apartment of our two main characters who were both still fast asleep. The light of day slowly peeked through the half open curtains and Erik felt it warming his face, letting out an annoyed groan. He turned around in his sleep, and continued his dream. It would not be until 3 hours later, before one of the two would awake.

Of course it was Christine who opened her eyelids first. She rubbed her eyes, and sat up. As she looked around her eyes fell on the small pile of books on the kitchen table which she could see through the open bedroom door. Her lips curled up.

Has Erik brought them for me?

She looked at the sleeping man in the bed next to hers. She felt those butterflies again when she studied his features. There was a peaceful look on his face, and she heard his soft exhales. How she longed to kiss him again… to feel his lips capture hers, to snuggle into his warm embrace. As she studied him a little longer she noticed he was still wearing his shoes and coat.

Why would he do that?

She climbed out of bed, and made her way down his, sitting down on the edge of it. It looked very clumsy. Her plastered leg felt much heavier than the other one and she tried to be as quiet as possible. She heard him moan something in his sleep by the noise she made, but she could not make out any words. Christine carefully took off his shoes and coat (which took quite a while since his body wasn't co-operating, stirring and bending his limbs in the wrong way at the wrong time). After she had finished that, she placed them next to the bed. She could not help but inhale the scent of his coat deeply.

How good it smells…

She tried to take off his cravat too. The girl felt happy that her Angel had stirred from his stomach to his back. His facial expression turned into a frowning one as her fingers untied the cloth around his neck. He stirred his head from the right to the left a few times as he felt her fingers tickling against his throat. She smiled and kissed his cheek. Taking off his mask, she bent over to kiss his other cheek too. Hearing him giving a small, peaceful sigh. She lay his mask with the rest of his things she had just taken off. She crawled up and made her way to the kitchen with as little noise as possible.

When she got there, she sat down on one of the chairs and studied the books.

Erik has brought all my favorite books!

She also noticed two or three books she had not heard of before. She decided to start on one of those first.

The young singer felt so swallowed into the book, she did not hear the front door open and close.

She almost gave a cry of fear when she noticed the two persons from out of the corner of her eye.

She let out a sigh of relief and pressed a hand on her heart when she recognized them. "I'm sorry; I hadn't seen you two come in."

The oldest of the two chuckled, "It's alright, Christine." Madame Giry walked over to the table, and her daughter followed. "How are you doing?" Meg cried out, as she sat down on a stool next to Christine's.

"I've heard you're here with a man." She gave a cheesy wink and Christine felt the heat rising to her cheeks. She did not really know how to answer to her friends' remark, so she just said: "Yes Meg, I'm fine."

"Can you tell me where Erik is? I have something very important to tell." The young singer's face turned to meet the gaze of Madame Giry.

"Well, uhm… I think he's still asleep." Christine laughed a little, scratching the back of her head. Antoinette raised an eyebrow,

"Ow, how come so?"

"I don't know," Christine answered, "I think he went to the opera last night. He brought me these books." With her fingers she stroke the back of the books softly.

"Shall I wake him?" she asked.

"Yes, please. He has been in bed for long enough now."

Christine nodded, and went into the bedroom again. Trying to make it look as normal as she could.

When she had closed the door behind her, she looked at her Angel's sleeping form. He lay on his stomach again. She almost crouched down next to him, hearing Meg and Madame Giry rumbling around in the kitchen. The girl tugged a little at his arm. "Erik, wake up." She whispered in his ear.

She heard his body let out a groan, and saw it moving a little. She rolled her eyes, and sighed.

She tugged at his arm again, harder this time. "Come on, Erik. It's time for you to wake up."

She noticed his eyelids moving just a little, and planted a kiss on his deformed cheek.

"You really don't think of it as a problem that I'm not wearing my mask, do you?" his drowsy, low voice asked. She smiled at his silly question. "Of course not."

He gave a relieved sigh. "Thank you," he muttered, closing his eyes once again.

She smiled, and kissed his cheek again.

"But that still doesn't change the fact that you have to get out."

He gave a moan again. "I'm still tired."

"Which means you'll have to go to bed early tonight, but now it's past twelve and you really have to get out!" As she said this, she tugged a few more times at his arm. He blinked a few times at those words. "It is not possible to be past twelve, I have just gone to bed…" He whispered into his pillow, his eyes still closed. Christine chuckled, starting to stroke softly through his hair. After a while, he opened his eyes slowly, and looked back at her.
He smiled a little… and she could do nothing else than smiling back at him.

"Come; sit up a little, will you?"

He obeyed her, slowly sitting up, he rubbed his eyes. Christine noticed he was barely able to keep his eyes open. He took notice of his clothes lying beside his bed, but was too tired to ask her how they got there. It took all his strength to keep himself up. Christine looked at the dark circles around his eyes.
"Erik, where did you go last night, and what time was it when you returned?"

He closed his eyes, and tried to focus on the question, while thinking of the answer. He had never found it so hard to pronounce an answer, but finally managed to make out some words. Though very slow. "I went back to the opera to check if a few things were done as I had asked, and… to get some books which I thought you would like. I think it was…. around 7… When I came back here."

He moaned, and fell back onto his pillow, too tired to keep himself up.

He could feel Christine nearly crouching on top of him. Feeling her hands, through his shirt, on his chest, and then felt her lips quickly met his. He opened his eyes to see Christine's face very close to his. She smiled, and he leaned in to kiss her again.

"I knew that would wake you up a bit." She said teasingly in his ear, and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"I'll give you some time to get dressed. Will you join us within ten minutes?"

Christine watched his face turning into a frown. "Us?"

She nodded, "Yes, dear. Madame Giry and Meg are here."

He frowned more, "What? Madame Giry is here?" He sat up, Christine gave him some space.

He tried to think, but the fog in his mind would not go away, making everything in his head vague.

Christine chuckled as she studied his thinking face. To distract him, she placed a kiss on his lips again.

"Let's just say I'll see you in ten minutes… alright?"

He nodded.

When he noticed Christine trying to get up, he immediately helped her. He stood up, and offered her one of his hands. The other one he circled around her waist to pull her up.

"You know you should actually be taking a lot of rest, huh?"

"I know." He got as a reply.

He quickly put on his mask, and helped her into the kitchen and onto one of the chairs. The same one as Meg and Madame Giry had found her completely vanished in her book, to be exact.

He said hi to Antoinette, and then got back into the bedroom to get dressed properly.

Christine's POV

I watched him stumbling to his seat. I wondered how he felt, but looking at his face was more than enough. He sat down with a sigh, and rubbed his eyes again. "Do you want anything to drink, dear?"

I asked him, but he shook his head. "No thank you, I'm fine, Christine." He answered, and I saw he couldn't suppress a yawn. It looked very cute.

I looked over to Meg, who was staring intensively at my Angel.

"So Erik, I've heard you stayed up late last night?" Madame Giry asked, as she joined us at the table.

Erik groaned annoyed, and I could hear Madame Giry chuckle.

"Anyway, I have something very important to tell you two, so I want you to listen careful."

She sat down on the only empty chair left. "Yesterday, our conductor has revealed that the next piece that will be performed at the opera is a ballet."

There was a small silence, I glanced over at Erik, but he was focusing on the words from Madame Giry. "It's a new ballet. It's called Swan Lake. But this means that I will be training twenty-five ballet girls day and night, and that I won't have the time to come here very often."

I noticed she was speaking more to Erik than to me, and I knew what she secretly meant.

"Very well," he answered, "That'll mean that I have to take better care of Christine."

I could sense there was something more he wanted to tell, but he turned his gaze to me.

"Christine, why don't go to the park with Meg. I think some fresh air will do you much good, and of course you haven't spoken to Meg lately. I bet you have a lot to tell each other." There was a sparkle in his tired eyes as he spoke those last words. I nodded, "Yes, I think that would be nice." I looked over to Meg. Who smiled kindly at me, but her features were dominated by questions.

Erik helped me downstairs, though he was tired, he tried to hide it. Meg was already waiting with the wheelchair. I sighed. "What's the matter, Christine?" Erik whispered in a question.

"Nothing," I answered, "I just want to be able to walk normally again." He squeezed my hand lightly. "Patient, love. Those weeks will pass in no time. Watch my words."
I smiled shyly at him, and then kissed his lips, not caring if Meg was there, but he seemed to think different, for he nearly froze, and then quickly faltered a step backwards. "I'm not hurting you, Erik. Am I?" He did not answer. "I think it's best if you have some fun. I'll see you in a few hours, right?" I nodded, not understanding why he acted so weird about that kiss.

Maybe he's just tired…

I thought it best if I just did what he asked, I would ask him later.

He helped me into the wheelchair, and before Meg and I were even out of earshot, she had already started to ask me thousands of questions.

"Christine! Why did you not tell me you were with such a gentleman? Why have you not even told me you knew him? How have you even met him? Does he have a brother?" I laughed.

"I have told you a thousand times about him."

"Really? I can't remember anything of it then."

"But you do remember the stories of the Angel of Music?"

She nodded. "Well, he isthe Angel of Music."

She stared confused at me, and then started to grin widely.

"So this is the man who left you so out of breath that day in the park?"

I blushed as I thought back of that kiss. It was the very first time somebody kissed me with that passion. I did not know how to answer her question, but a question of my own came up in my head. "Meg, why did you actually ask if he had a brother?" There came a smile on my face when I saw my friend's face. "You aren't saying you…"

"No, no!" She said quickly. "But you can't say he's ugly either, right?"

We both laughed. I had missed this. "Christine, is it true what the ballerina's and Buquet say about what's underneath the mask? Is it really as worse as…you know."

"I don't mind looking at it at all, if that's what you mean." I replied. "I guess it depends on what you think is ugly." I knew I did not answer her question at all, but I did not know if he would like it if I talked about his deformity. "He is not very used to affection, is he?" I shook my head, hoping that I could ever convince him that it was alright.

She sat down on a bench. Of course I already was sitting…

"And how are things at the Opera?"

"I don't know. The Managers have had a great deal of trouble with Carlotta again."

I sighed, and rolled my eyes. "As always."

"And how have things been with your dancing? Are you going to audition for a part in the new ballet?"

Meg shrugged. "I don't know yet. It would be exciting, but I don't think I'm good enough."

I frowned, "Of course you are good enough. Your mother is ballet mistress; it's in your veins."

She sighed, "I don't know. I don't know if I want to go on with my dancing career."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. It just doesn't give the same joy as it used to give me when I was younger."

I nodded. I too had once experienced something like that. After my dear father died, I lost all love for music, for everything. But my Angel inspired me to continue, and taught me the good things in life again. "But what do you want to do if you stop dancing?"

She shrugged, "I have no idea. Marry a rich guy would be nice." She smiled a little at me.
My face contorted into concern. "But you aren't pushed into dancing because of your mother right?"

"A little."

I sighed. "And you don't want to stop because you want to please your mother."

She nodded, and there was silence…

I know Swan Lake was not performed anywhere except Russia around 1887, but let's just pretend it was... I love that ballet!