A/N: Hello, everyone! As always, thank you all for the wonderful reviews. I meant to mention in my last author's note that the song Julie-O from the last chapter is indeed a real song, and it is one of my favorite things to hear on the cello. So you should look it up if you get a chance. Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

Christine's POV

After that day, things got better. Days began to turn to weeks, almost without notice, and the weather warmed. I found myself thinking less and less of my home in the city until I almost never thought of it at all. Life with Erik was falling into a comfortable routine; we took our meals together, had music lessons in the morning, used the afternoons however we wanted, and in the evenings I would sit in the chair in the sitting room, reading and listening to Erik work on his opera in the music room.

I still couldn't sing the song that Erik had first given me. I wanted to sing the beautiful melody, but I just couldn't get it. We worked on it every morning, though, along with our regular scales and exercises and arias. And when my voice grew tired, Erik would pull out the cello and I would practice the exercises that he gave me. As the days and weeks passed, I began to realize that not only did I feel content to be here with Erik, I was enjoying my time here. I still missed my home; I still missed Meg and Mrs. Giry. But I had stopped thinking that I had been kidnapped and that I would never see them again – instead I felt that this was simply a new living situation, as if I had simply moved away from home.

I was noticing that Erik seemed happier, too. He smiled and laughed genuinely with me, and he was more at ease than I could remember ever seeing him. Our relationship had progressed back to where it had been before everything started happening, though there were a few times when my mind entertained the possibility of feeling something more for the briefest of seconds. I found myself remembering that time in my dressing room more and more often, though I tried not to let myself think of it. Did Erik still find me attractive like he must have then? Did I want Erik to find me attractive? It was almost too much to think about, too many things too consider, so I didn't think about it.

One afternoon I wandered aimlessly around the house, not sure of what to do. Erik was in one of the music rooms working on his opera, which he still would not let me see or hear beyond one or two wordless melodies. I didn't feel like practicing anything – I was growing frustrated with the lack of life in my voice, and I would never dream of touching any of the instruments without Erik's presence, as he tended to be very protective of them. And so I walked slowly through the halls, taking time to look closely at the detailed architecture. When I passed a half-closed door that I had passed many times, though, something made me pause and look inside.

The ballroom was empty except for a piano, just like the last time I saw it. The wall across from me was taken up by three huge windows that almost reached both the floor and the ceiling, and the other walls were covered with mirrors. Everything had a layer of dust on it, and the golden late-afternoon sunlight that shone through the windows lay in streaks across the floor. There was energy to the room, as if it was begging to be brought to life.

I walked into the room carefully, the slightest noise echoing loudly in the silent space. Turning in a circle, I admired my surroundings. It really was a beautiful room.

"Would you like to dance?"

I nearly screamed in surprise when Erik spoke; I hadn't noticed that he had come to stand in the doorway. "I don't know how," I said.

"It's not difficult," Erik replied, walking towards me and hold out his hands. I gently wrapped one arm around his neck as he instructed and took his hand with the other, while he put his other hand on the small of my back. It felt good to be this close to him, to be able to feel his warmth and the solidness of his body. Physical contact was rare for us, and it seemed almost deliberate on his part. It might have been deliberate on my part, too.

"We don't have any music," I pointed out, trying to focus on anything except how Erik's nearness made my heart race.

"We don't need any music," Erik said. "Just follow my lead."

He moved smoothly, gracefully, which shouldn't have surprised me. I did as he said and followed his lead, and soon we were dancing. Our music was the whoosh of the blood rushing through out veins, the hum of the air around us as we moved. I laughed as he twirled and dipped me, and then out eyes locked. Our music stopped, and neither of us made the slightest movement. I was so close to Erik that I could feel the rise and fall of his chest against mine. I felt a new music within me, flowing darkly, heavy and sensuous. I knew that Erik could feel this music, too, and the heat between us grew.

I took both his hands in mine and took a step back. My body seemed to move of its own accord and swayed fluidly, seductively, to the music we felt. Erik watched me, desire evident in his eyes, and I felt emboldened by his gaze. Pulling myself back to him and pressing my body against his, I wrapped my arms around his neck and felt his hands firmly on my hips. Slowly I reached up to caress his face, which was just inches away from mine. But as my fingers neared the edge of his mask, Erik abruptly pulled away from me, walking out of the room without a word.

Meg's POV

Dear Christine,

I know that you'll never read this letter, but I thought it might help to feel like I'm talking to you. I miss you so much, and I pray that you're ok.

The police have all but stopped looking for you. They said weeks ago that the trail had gone cold and that if you weren't impossible to find before, you would be now. Mother says that as long as Erik wants you to remain hidden, no one will be able to find you. But I'm not giving up on you.

I found a passage behind the mirror of your dressing room. Creepy, right? I tried to follow it, but it dead-ended pretty quickly. I don't think it used to end there – I think that's how Erik took you away the night of your debut. I wish you were here to tell me things like this that I never thought to ask you earlier.

We don't see Raoul very often anymore. He used to come around once in a while to ask how we were and if there was any news of you, but he hasn't come for a while. He still goes to the theatre, but he doesn't say anything to Mother or me. I do know, though, that his family is still looking for you, with all their money and resources, so maybe they'll have better luck. I doubt it, though. Mother and I haven't told him anything about Erik. I've tried, because I think it might help them find you, but then Mother gives me this stern, warning look, and I never say anything.

I still don't understand why Erik kidnapped you. It makes me thing that there was stuff that you weren't telling me – I'm sure there's more to this than just a random act of madness and desperation. Mother says that Erik would never hurt you, though, and I hope very badly that that's true.

I can only hope that soon you'll come home, that soon you'll be able to read this.

Meg

That's the chapter! Lots of exciting stuff is about to happen, so stick around! NaNoWriMo is kind of eating my soul right now, but I will update as soon as possible. Remember: more reviews = faster updates!