Christine awoke to a soft humming beside her. Not wanting to open her eyes at first, she was content to simply lie there and listen to the music around her.

Having sensed the motion, though, the phantom abruptly stopped humming and focused his whole attention on his dearest love. As the music stopped, Christine sensed it was time to open her eyes. Sighing, she let her eyes flutter slowly open as she sat up.

As pain ripped through her side, she winced and fell back to the settee. Hands rushed to comfort her, easing her mind and distracting her from the pain. She watched as her lover watched her intensely. His dark eyes filled with worry and something she had seen only once before as she had left him, and even then only slightly, fear.

"I am well." she comforted, placing her hand not top of his. "I feel very little."

After a moment of skepticism, the composer simply nodded and relaxed a bit. Still concerned, his softly pressed his lips to the woman's head.

"You feel so little pain all due to your friend's actions. She is someone who truly cares, and I owe her a lot for your safety." he said, internally blessing the blonde for her compassion and healing abilities.

Christine nodded, examining herself. She had definitely ruined the dress. Such a gorgeous work of silk and jewels, turn to a stained bit of ripped fabric. She must tell him to no longer give her such exquisite fashions. She had a horrible tendency to ruin them all.

"I told her I would fetch her when you awoke. I shall go now and receive her. Then, we shall properly thank her together." Christine nodded, her words fleeing her. She knew not if she had enough energy to speak nor the knowledge of what words to say.

Satisfied that his angel was content, he left to find her friend and bring her to Christine. Surely both girls would want to see one another. They could assist one another in their troubles, as the heart-wrenching emotions that he knew so well dwelled in one and the other had just overcome them. So they would surely be able to assist one another in coping.

He approached the other girl's dressing room, only to find it darkened and empty. His heart began to pick up. He would never be able to explain such a thing to Christine if her closest friend should be gone forever or, even worse, if she... No. He scolded himself. He could not think like that.

Entering the room softly, he lit only one oil lamp. The shadows appeared and stretched across the area, contorting the room's appearance into one of great mystery and horror. Using the light, he found a small note left on the vanity.

Gingerly lifting the paper from its place on the desk, the phantom read the script and promptly looked up, unsure whether to be afraid or not.

My Dearest Loves,

I regret to inform you that I have departed on a trip around Europe. I know not its duration or if I shall even return to the Opera Populaire at all, but you need not worry. I am readily prepared to the face the world. I have become strong through the scorn of what I thought had been love. I will continue to write to you and inform you of my travels, but I beg of you, please do not attempt to have me return through letters or the following of my pursuits. I shall return when I feel it is time. Until then, please hold me in your hearts as I hold you in mine. May your adventures in life be bright until we meet again.

Your Sister and Friend,

Meg Giry

He froze, finishing the letter. Dear God. Christine. She would never be able to handle this in the state she was in. Should he even tell her? He wasn't sure. If he did, she would want to follow Meg against the girl's wishes and he could possibly lose her if she went in the health conditions she was in. Yet, if he didn't, and Meg was hurt or, heaven forbid, died on her escapade, Christine would never forgive him for it.

Needing time to think, he tucked the note into his inside coat pocket and headed back to his love. He knocked lightly on her door to be polite and she called for his entry. When he entered alone and a look of disappointment crossed her face, guilt overtook him.

"I could not find her." he said softly.

"Oh. Well, have you checked the ballet room? Likely she is there rehearsing if she is not in her dressing room. She could have went home, as well. She seemed as if she needed rest when she first crossed me in the hall." Christine rambled on, offering solutions for her friend's disappearance.

"No, my love, she is not at the rehearsal room nor at her home." he broke softly to her.

At first, Christine did not understand the meaning of his words. Surely there was something she had not seen. What did he-No. Christine thought. He couldn't possibly mean.

"How do you know this?" she asked, her breath coming to her quickly.

Sighing, he knew he had to tell her. She deserved to know. In his heart, he struggled with it, but knew that, if it was her who had run off, he would want to know. And this was something of upmost importance. Knowing his duty to his love, he pulled the note out of its hiding place and handed it to her.

As she read the note, he quickly explained before all the life could sink fully out of her.

"My love, she is safe. The young girl may appear delicate, but, like you, has a strong source of life in her. She will return I am sure." he assured her, resting his hand on her thin shoulder.

"But what if-" she began to refute his statement, but he leaned in and kissed the side of her forehead.

"No time for worries now, my love." he spoke against her forehead. "Come, you must eat and then taking the medicines she has left for you. How horrid, for her to return and you be ill, all because you did not obey her orders? How upset she would be."

Christine, unable to think clearly, simply nodded. Whether the fogginess of her mind was from her friend's mysterious and sudden departure or her lover's smooth lips against her forehead, she was unsure. She would figure it out after she had eaten and rested.

As he moved his hand from her shoulder to offer it to her in assistance, Christine watched the phantom with mesmerized attention. She slowly accepted his hands and rose delicately, despite being seriously injured in various places.

With her guidance, she glided across the dressing room to her vanity, where she saw several small vials sitting. They reminded her of a story she once read about a warlock who was able to heal all in the village, but was feared for his powers being unnatural rather than praised for his life-saving capabilities.

Looking to the man whose shoulder she leant on, she felt the fairy tale even more real in this instant, knowing how the warlock had felt. Surely, she would not allow her mind to merge to the mob. She would love him longer than forever.

As he assisted her in sitting down, she lightly caressed the side of his face that was uncovered, which he winced at, but she would not allow him to jerk back this time. She leaned in and reciprocated his actions from before, pressing her pink lips to his cheek.

As she sat down, he watched her intensely. As his gaze stayed mostly on the woman in the chair, unsure of her intentions with such strange affection he had never seen from her before, he lightly rose the vials to Christine's lips.

"You need not hide your face from me, my love. I have seen the true you and yet, I care deeply for you still. I think not like the others in this world and you know that. My dreams lie with you in the shadows and the music of the night."

He reached down and grasped her hand tightly without harming her, and raised it to his lips. She watched on, concerned. Was he well? She wasn't certain.

He looked at the floor for the longest time, unspeaking as her eyes filled with heavy emotion, emotion she could not name, yet wished so desperately that she could. Finally, his eyes rose to meet hers and she saw the scariest emotion of all in them: love.

"Christine Daaé, do you love me?" he asked, his voice shaking.

It was her turn to feel unsure for a moment. She had thought she had loved Raoul, but found there was so much missing. It was with her Angel of Music that so much more filled her. Before, she could never identify the emotion rising within her heart when she heard his voice, but now she could. It was love. It was always love.

"I do love you. I love you, my dark Angel of Music." she said at last. The phantom laughed lightly as tears of joy ran down his face. "But if you love me, then you must trust me. You must not hide your best appearance in my presence. I understand when we are not alone, but when we are alone, I will no longer treat you like the gargoyle you believe yourself to be. I will no longer allow you to put yourself in this hell. I see you as perfect. Please, do not hide from me. Allow me to love the parts not even your own mother could. I beg this of you." she said.

He was without words. This beautiful woman, a voice of an angel, had fallen in love with him, all of him. She had accepted what no one else on the earth could, even dared to call it beauty. She was his at last, and his heart could not believe his luck. Surely this was for him after all the torment he had gone through on this earth, all the shaming and deception, lying and hiding. He could never thank her enough for her understanding and compassion.

"If you so beg it, then I shall grant it. If at any time, however, you should no longer be able to look upon the deformity any longer, simply tell me and I shall fetch the mask immediately. I wish not to lose you because of this curse. I have already lost too many I care about due to its hideousness. I could not bear to lose you as well, my love." he said, fear filling him as he reached up and grabbed underneath the mask to remove it.

She grabbed his wrist, stopping him in his action. His dark eyes flew to her blue ones.

"You could never lose me, my angel. I love you, and I have never loved before as I love now." she said with meaning in her eyes.

As she let go, he removed his white clothing the rest of the way, leaving his scars revealed to the world, which was only the woman before him, in his eyes. She watched on, filled with awe as to how someone could know this man and not see the beauty underneath. As he watched her, desperately searching a response, she leaned in, gently closing her eyes, and pressing her lips to his.

As she pulled back after a few long moments, he watched her face, searching for any scrap of regret. Yet, he saw none. Instead, she smiled brightly and kissed him once more.

"Oh, my angel, how I missed you." she said softly.

"Erik." he said to her, unsure of himself.

"What?" she asked confused, then realized. His name. She had never known his name, and yet had loved him for ten long years. And even before that, unknowing of her true passion. "Oh. I see. Erik. A truly regal name for such a noble man." she smiled at him. "I am trusting you with my heart, Erik."

"I have trusted you with mine for years, my love. My Christine. I've loved you from the moment I saw you in the shadows of the backstage lamps. I have always loved you." he replied.

"And I see that now. I apologize with a heavy heart for not seeing the passion before. I regret shattering your heart all those years ago. I was a child, a fool." she sobbed against his cheek.

Wiping away her tears, Erik gently lifted her chin to match his gaze.

"You found every last shard and rebuilt it, my love. You have made it soar on the highest wings today. I can never thank God above enough for sending me such an angel as you." he said, taking her hands back in his own. "I love you, Christine."

"I will never leave you, Erik." she said, and rested her head on his shoulder.