A/N: Yay another chapter done! Thank you to everyone for sticking with this story and welcome new readers! Hope you like and don't forget to leave a review at the end.

Chapter 21

That night Erik dreamed of Christine again.

This time… it was much different.

"Erik?" he heard her call out his name hesitantly.

He came running out and she was standing in the middle of the room, her blue eyes swimming with tears.

Immediately, he frantically searched the area for whatever it was that caused her alarm and fear on her face. Then he stopped. Wait… ghosts couldn't be afraid.

Looking at her, she was smiling softly now despite the tremors going through her. "Erik…" she said quietly and held out her hands to him.

He didn't know what seized his mind (his common sense was telling him that he would go through her), but he went towards her, catching her as she fell into his arms.

And it hit him.

She was solid.

Solid!

Her tear-streaked face was due to joy, not fear, and she gazed up at him with such awe and happiness that his heart was racing faster now.

"How…?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I just… I didn't have to concentrate to feel the couch so I could sit. I sat down and I did not go through it!"

He swallowed. "How… how do you feel?" he asked timidly.

Her grip tightened on his arms. "I feel my heart beating, my blood flowing through my veins. I'm warm and I feel so alive Erik. So very much alive."

She felt alive in his embrace; her chest was pressed closer to his that he could practically feel her heart beating against his. This had to be some kind of miracle. Dead people don't come back to life.

As awesome and shocking as it was, Christine suddenly grew frightful and she grabbed his shirt, her fingers clutching the material desperately. "Kiss me Erik," she demanded. "I can't explain this… I don't know why or if this is a trick or a godsend, but kiss me before this ends. I need to feel you."

As if her desperation seeped into him, Erik too, was worried that this wasn't going to last either. She will go back to what she was and he would never know what she truly tasted like…

Without a moment's thought, his lips crashed into hers and there was nothing remotely chaste or romantic about this kiss. It was urgent with nails clutching fiercely at one another, their tongues meeting and dancing and fervently exploring each other. Then Christine ripped away from him, her hand flying to his mask and before he knew it… the mask was gone and she was kissing him with all her might, afraid to let go, afraid for something to come and take her away.

Her arms were around his neck, her fingers grasping the ends of his hair as he lifted her in the air, her legs quickly wrapping around his waist. Hugging her close, Erik quickly moved them to the bedroom.

Christine let out a moan when they pulled apart to breathe, but he dove back in, capturing her lips, his tongue sweeping back in her mouth. He couldn't get enough of her taste; he couldn't get enough of her.

Even with Elena, Erik never felt like this… this intense fire that was threatening to consume the two of them. Once they reached the bed, the knowledge of what was going to happen… Christine gently ended the passionate kiss and stared into his eyes.

There was no judgment, no horror, or disgust in her face. Only acceptance.

She accepted him—face and all. She didn't see a monster. She saw a man.

"I want this," she whispered. "I want you Erik. I've always wanted you. Please now… before anything else happens."

"Yes," he agreed his answer a low keen as he lowered them down on top of the covers.

"I want you Christine. I've wanted you ever since that night… when you saved me."

Like magic, their clothes vanished and they were both rolling over the bed, their legs tangled around the other. Then, Erik rose up on his hands, grasping Christine at her hips to keep her in place as he lined himself against her entrance. His eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head at the scorching heat. To know that she wanted him so desperately, even with his face exposed, it was too much and he knew he wouldn't last long.

"Erik…"

Gazing down at her flushed features, Christine cupped his ruined cheek, her thumb gently rubbing the tender flesh. A dainty smile curved on her mouth. "Take me."

"Oh Christine…" Erik moaned in his sleep, lost in his fevered dream… he reached for himself under the sheets, grasping his cock tightly as his dream-self entered the woman of his dreams.

xxXXxx

After Erik went to bed, Christine laid down on the couch. She had so many thoughts swirling around in her head, but the puzzling one of all was the man that was ten feet away from her.

Despite the time they shared together—including the time when he wasn't aware of her—Christine felt like she knew him well enough. Yet, he managed to surprise her and she didn't know how to respond to it.

First, it was his admission about her death. The fact he felt guilty was so incredible and the emotional toll it had on him… Did he really feel like he was to blame for her death? Of course he did. And there were many reasons why he never needed to feel guilty, but regardless of the facts, Erik felt some responsibility for her murder. The whole situation could be dismissed easily, yet Christine felt the truth in his words. For a man, who for the most part, was self-centered and a smug bastard… he showed that he had a heart and he could feel just as strongly, more so than any other person. Even Raoul.

In Raoul's grief, he did feel guilty about their fight and her death, but it wasn't the same like Erik.

And then there was his concern about her ghostly escapades. Well, escapades being a loose term there. It never bothered him when she would disappear. In fact, at the beginning, he wanted nothing more for her to leave him alone. Now, he doesn't want her to?

The whole thing was baffling.

However, the strangest thing of all? They appeared to be bonding over the investigation into her murder. True, they haven't had much luck on leads, but the time they spent together… she enjoyed it.

If anything… their friendship was deepening.

But it didn't start just there. No… the tides were changing the night when Christine saw his face and she admitted to him how she had always known all this time. She could never forget the shock and awe in his eyes or the quick flash of fear before his temper got the best of him.

He had such a hard time accepting that it didn't bother her. At the time, Christine didn't understand why it was a big deal to him. If anything, shouldn't he be thrilled he didn't have to keep that part of him a secret from her? But the more she thought about it… the more she came to the realization that her simple acceptance and indifference was something altogether new.

Erik didn't how know to deal with it, let alone handle the acceptance.

It all made perfect sense now. That explained his temper and him raging at her. And the fact that she finally understood, Christine also realized it must be because he hadn't been accepted by anyone. To think that there was not a single person that could gaze upon him like an ordinary man, to be rejected over and over because of his face was mind-boggling. She thought, at least, in this time and age people could see passed their prejudice and get over their fears that just because someone looked different… it didn't mean they need to be frightened. Hadn't society learned that there is more to a person skin deep rather than the outside?

At once, compassion flooded her heart and she wished she could speak to Erik right away about her epiphany. She wanted to go to him and tell him that she gets it now and he doesn't need to be afraid anymore—

Christine heard his voice, her name reaching her ears. He must be in trouble! He sounded like he was in pain.

Christine ran to the bedroom, going through the door, and immediately froze at the sight in front of her.

The bed-sheets were kicked at his feet, his boxers down to his knees, as Erik gasped and pulled on his fully-erected cock. His back arched as his mouth parted in another breathless sigh of Christine's name. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, his face exposed to the world, but she never seen him so beautiful or free until that moment.

Of course, his "activity" did surprise her and Christine knew if she was alive she would be blushing. Then again, she felt like she was as her face felt like it was on fire.

She knew she should leave.

This was a private moment and Erik would be embarrassed if he knew she was there; however, Christine was rooted to her spot, her eyes not once straying from the magnificent man before her. And the knowledge that it was her he was dreaming about had her mind spinning with mixed emotions.

As a ghost, Christine never experienced the stirrings of desire like she had as a human. She, unfortunately, witnessed Erik's shameless flings until she grew weary of them when all she wanted was a peaceful night and would use her abilities to persuade them to go elsewhere. It never affected her, not in the tiniest bit. Yet, seeing him at his most vulnerable… in this raw passionate scene… had her tingling with a burning sensation that she thought she would never feel ever again. It was almost like she felt desire for the first time when she lost her virginity to Raoul. The rush of excitement was overwhelming and every inch of her was about ready to combust…

Then she was mortified at how aroused she was and she desperately wanted to disappear… to forget this ever happened, but she couldn't get her mind to calm down enough to focus on the will to leave.

Furthermore, she was guilty because it reminded her of her past feelings for Erik when she had been with Raoul. She wanted him when she was alive—the forbidden relationship of singer and composer, boss and employee—that all of her past fantasies were rushing at her and it would be so easy to go over there and join him… to help him along his way to release.

Lastly, the startling reality that it was foolish to think they could partake in such intimacies.

He was alive and she was not and she could not—could not—be anything to him because it would be impossible to be a couple when she was invisible to the rest of the world. Never mind he might even be disgusted or freaked out that she dared to participate.

"Christine," Erik moaned, his teeth clenching as the veins in his throat started to bulge as his hand quicken its pace. "Christine… Yes… That's it…"

Her mind was screaming at her to go! Leave! What the Hell is wrong with you standing there?!

Yet, it was like some invisible force was keeping her in place. And in that final moment, the last stroke, Erik's eyes flew opened as he emptied himself on his hand and stomach.

Christine was rigid, her entire form tensed, as she looked like a deer caught in headlights or a naughty child caught with its hand in the cookie jar… Either way, his eyes sought hers and one resounding word reflected their feelings to the tee.

"Fuck."

xxXXxx

The morning after was as awkward as one could imagine—your ghostly roommate caught you masturbating to her. It was definitely ten times worse if she had been alive and caught you.

Erik didn't know what to say when he saw Christine standing there in his bedroom. He was embarrassed, stunned, and a bit proud that she seemed to be aroused by his actions. He very well knew the tell-tale signs of a woman excited and Christine was an open textbook with her pupils dilated, her chest miming the quickened breaths, and her body was pretty transparent. With all her attention on him, she lost her focus on keeping a solid appearance.

He supposed there was no point in hiding his feelings now that she had a pretty good idea that he desired her. At the same time, he knew they had to talk about it and find out where they actually stood in this strange relationship. Or if they even had a standing ground.

Christine, on the other hand, refused to look at him. So perturbed with herself she couldn't even vanish and that was altogether a new source of embarrassment for her. Now, she was stuck and she wished she was dead… again.

"We have to talk about this," Erik said suddenly, the silence driving him crazy as she sat on the couch, and he, in the kitchen. "It's not going to go away so let's get this over and done with."

Christine flinched, but she still avoided his gaze. "What's to talk about? I saw you… pleasuring yourself and I panicked. Can't go back in time now so let's forget it ever happened, okay?"

"No," he exclaimed, frustrated that she was acting like this was a major catastrophe or the end of the world. "We're adults and not innocent in the world of sex—" Then a horrified thought crossed his mind and he gaped at her. "Unless… you aren't a virgin are you? With a fiancé, I-I assumed…"

"Oh God!" Christine cried, her hands covering her face. "No! I'm not a virgin! I know how it works, and yes I know I've been dead, but not that dead to forget the mechanics."

"Okay," he said, relief washing over him from that awkward moment that could have been if she was. "Just checking because that would be awful. To die before ever having—"

"I get it Erik!" Christine snapped. "Look, I don't know what you want me to say. And, yes, maybe I'm overreacting or maybe I should be flattered, but you do know what I am right?"

"Of course I do! But you're also a woman too." He groaned knowing he didn't mean it like he sounded. Taking a deep breath, he tried again. "It's been awhile for me. I-I wasn't thinking, and in all fairness, it wasn't like I had much control over who I was dreaming about lately—"

"Whoa, whoa, hang on a minute there." Christine's hand was up to quiet him from further digging himself into a hole. "You think that's some excuse? Awhile? So you thought you would get it out of your system even when you knew I wasn't far, and by the way, after having those nightmares? And this wasn't the first time you dreamt about me!?"

Her voice had been picking up volume until it was practically shrill from incredulity.

"Fuck," he swore, muffling the curse with his hands, but Christine heard him.

"That's all you can say? Fuck?!"

At a loss over what she expected or wanted from him, Erik threw his hands in the air. "Okay, let's get this straight… I'm sorry if this upsets you so much, but I want to make it clear—I like you Christine. I do and I don't often feel that way about other women, but there's something… I can't explain it but it is there and I wasn't thinking and I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable, that wasn't my intention, and I wish I could take it back but I can't. I do value our friendship and I don't want you to avoid me because of this—incident. So… is there a chance we can shake hands and laugh about this and go back to before?"

"No handshakes," she deadpanned.

"Deal." He smiled. "So… we're good, now?"

Christine paused, moving her head to look at him finally. There was still a hesitance in her countenance, but she nodded. "Yeah. We're good."

"Great!" Erik beamed wider. "Now that's it settled… you should know I meant what I said earlier."

"Erik," Christine sighed, shaking her head. "I think I have an idea where this is going so I'm gonna stop you. This isn't-we shouldn't—we're friends and that's it. All right?"

"Um, right. I-I wasn't implying anything," he said, covering up his blunder. "I mean, I do like you. You're the first girlfriend I had… I mean… girlfriend as in friend-friend, not that other kind."

"Oh." Her expression was difficult to read, but Erik wasn't going to push his luck in trying to analyze her moods. He was going to take it at face-value and assume there will be no more fighting over this.

Downing the rest of his coffee, Erik set his mug down by the sink and turned to her. "I have, uh, some paperwork to do at the theatre. Would you like to come with me?"

The safest answer to give would be no, but Christine heard "yes" slip out and it was too late. Besides, she knew she wasn't being exactly fair to him when he was no more at fault than she was. And if her going with him made him feel better, then she will do it.

On the flip side, it wasn't like she could embarrass herself further with her former coworkers. They couldn't see her and they wouldn't know that she caught the boss giving himself a hand-job.

xxXXxx

They arrived at the theatre and Christine quickly realized they were alone. Before she could say something, Erik did remind her that he said say there was paperwork involved and never once hinted if there would be others around.

So while he worked in his office, Christine wandered around like she did the last time. And, naturally or instinctively, she found herself staring at the stage longingly. What she would give for one last encore…

"Go on," Erik said from behind her. "Sing."

"I-I couldn't—" she started.

"Why not? We're alone and it's not like someone else will hear you. Just me."

"Yeah but you're Erik Trussler," Christine replied. "Do you have any idea how long it's been for me?"

"It didn't stop you before," he reminded her. Smiling gently, he motioned to the stage once more. "Sing Christine… sing for me."

With such a tempting request from the maestro, how could she refuse?

As Erik walked down the aisle to sit, Christine transported herself to center stage. The lights were off but she could see every single seat out there. And in that moment, she could envision the audience filling up the space.

She was Elissa from Hannibal again and her big aria was about to begin. Waiting for the cue from the conductor, the intro music started to play and she opened her mouth—the words pouring from her as powerful and splendidly as before.

Her voice grew higher, higher to the rooftop towards the Heavens, the notes spiraling upwards taking her away with each rising crescendo.

She was Elissa singing about her love, imploring him to think of her and remember how grand the world seemed to be when they fell in love. She longed to return to those days when they were invincible and nothing could stop them from achieving their dreams.

At the height of the song, Christine felt her spirits soaring. This was it! This was the moment she had been craving to repeat. That moment where all eyes and ears were on her, hanging with abated anticipation for the ultimate climax.

Her vocals rise and fell with soft, almost hesitant breaths, and then her confidence grew that it would happen again—that she would find that blissful happiness and hold into it forever. Her voice hovered while extending that emotion so the world could understand once and for all her love was everlasting. As she crested into the last note, Christine felt the tiny pricks of tears forming just like she felt when she made her debut.

Glorious and liberating and so very perfect.

This was her moment, her limelight, her turn to amaze, to astound, to inspire the patrons for a moving experience that they would never have again.

She was home.

As her voice faded there was nothing but the heavy breathing of her sole audience member.

Christine didn't notice she had her eyes closed until they began to flutter opened.

"Brava, brava, bravissima…"

Christine turned, her expression half-dazed as she watched him, waiting for his reaction.

xxXXxx

As soon as Christine started singing, Erik was automatically taken back through time to the moment she must have looked those years ago on that stage.

She was in her element. She was majestic.

If there had been any doubt in his mind, Erik knew he found his Aminta. Not even the cruel twist of fate could deter his imagination of envisioning the role she was born to play.

As she continued her aria, Erik was grateful to witness this second chance of this performance. To see her fully alive and gay in that exact space in time when he had been elsewhere.

At some point during the song Erik left his seat and climbed on stage unbeknownst to the soprano. From the wings, his gaze never left her face as she moved in time to the beat of the song. As it reached its end, Erik started moving again—this time towards her.

As the last note sang out, Erik could barely contain the running emotions coursing through his heart. She was an angel. There was no other word to describe her. And when she faced him, her eyes half-lidded, her chin quivering from the high, he drew her closer, his fingers tracing her jawline as her lashes brushed over her skin as they closed.

She was cool, but there was a momentarily sense of warmth bursting from his fingertips. She was real… and she was in his mind as he sealed the distance between them, his lips pressing against hers in a kiss.

TBC…