Hello there! I've been able to upload this chapter faster than I anticipated, thankfully. I don't know exactly when I'll be able to post again (exam term is coming at me), but I promise to do so as soon as I can. Hope you like this one!

Chapter 21: Instants

- Christine's POV -

It had been quite a chaste and sweet kiss at first, only to become more passionate as moments passed by. Christine was losing herself in Erik's intoxicating wonderful smell and warmth, and would encircle her hands around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer. Erik, on his part, did the exact same thing - except his hands were roaming up and down Christine's waist, pulling and caressing as if he couldn't get her close enough. With a deep blush that Christine feared mirrored her own as they tore apart, Erik spoke softly. "No fear?" he repeated in disbelief, staring at her while their foreheads touched. They were both panting a little, after kissing for a considerable amount of time. Both were certainly disheveled, but thankfully no servant had knocked. His baritone voice was trembling, his overall posture more possessive and less fearful. There was an unmissable tone of innocence in his question, almost child-like. Accordingly, his eyes were wide with apparent surprise, glistening in all of their green glory.

"None." Christine dutifully answered, always matching the intensity of Erik's gaze.

"Is it… pity?" While Christine half hoped to him to be suspicious of her, she had readied herself for his constant fear of misinterpreting her actions. She didn't quite believe he could misread anything anymore, unless he did so on purpose to assure himself that he wasn't scaring her off.

"I do pity you, but don't suppose that I would kiss you out of it." It was an earnest and defiant reply. He still stared at her, bewildered with her answer, while she resumed to nuzzle his cheek lovingly, making the unmasked man shiver slightly. Maybe once Erik grew accustomed to these gestures he wouldn't do so anymore.

"It is real, then." He whispered more to himself than to her, a low-key reverent tune resounding in the air. Christine nodded, exhilarated with the fact that Erik accepted this at last. Slowly but with growing confidence, he proceeded to bring his lips closer to hers for another kiss.

/ /

Christine smiled embarrassingly as she remembered the last few days. Things, she believed, could not go much better than this. Afraid as she had been of making things even more uncomfortable between them, it seemed her worries were unfounded. Ever since the pretty brunette had removed the phantom's mask, it seemed their relationship had improved in more ways than one. Finally, Erik trusted her enough not to keep her at an arm's length. They spent much of their time together, as opposed to when they had first come to the manor. Now that his secrets were out, Erik didn't hesitate to tell Christine even more fantastic tales of his time in Persia and his dealings as an architect in Paris. Very seldom did he mention Ópera Populaire, eventhough she could tell he missed the old building as much as she did. Gratefully, almost daily missives from Nadir Khan ensured than both Antoinette and Marguerite Giry were safe, which calmed Christine greatly. Nette and Meg were the closest thing she had to family now, and she would always blame herself if anything were to happen them. Erik seemed as worried about them as she, which was a great comfort.

As security matters stood, Erik had also hinted at the fact that eventually she would need to get in touch with the parisian chief of police, if anything to disperse rumors about her being captive and testify against Raoul. That was no easy task to be achieved and Christine dreaded it terribly - specially when she thought about the slight possibility of having to do so in front of the vimconte himself. Together they had started to draw a plan, which so far it seemed solid enough. However, they both knew how far the De Chagny's influence could reach - in the end, it was a risk they had to take. After all, Erik did have some influence in higher spheres and now was the right time to make use of it.

The rest of the days came quite uneventfully. Christine had resumed her singing lessons, and there was something about having a routine again that cheered her up. For a few moments every day, she didn't have to think about the operahouse or how much she missed seeing her friends, colleagues and well, having a life outside the manor. However, being an only child had come with the full advantages of being able to spend quite a long time on her own without feeling too bored or lonely. Reading, drawing, walking around the house or the gardens were her biggest pastimes now. The truth was that Erik was quite a busy man, and although Christine knew perfectly how much effort he put in assuring that her every need was catered to, she also understood that Erik was not accustomed to entertain people very much, and that he also had obligations to attend to.

They were closer now, and grew more comfortable in each other's presence as time went by. It seemed almost unreal - like the quiet evenings she would spend with him in the catacombs, but much better. Every night before Christine went to bed - Erik would always be working in his atelier at such hours - he would kiss her goodnight. A proper kiss, which made her feel like butterflies were flying around in her stomach, and made ages go by before Christine could bring herself to finally fall asleep. This ritual had accidentally began when Christine, too nervous to know exactly what to do now the tables had turned, quickly entered Erik's office blushing furiously and bluntly asked him to kiss her, as she was going to bed. Poor Erik's face would have almost been comical if it wasn't for the intensity of shock revealed in his expression, as it had happened some times before. For someone who could be so perceptive, Christine wondered, he could definitely be a little callow sometimes. But then, three kisses in a single day for a man who had been deprived of all affection throughout life were probably too much for him to process at once. Not that Erik complained, anyway. Shocked and surprised he might be, but the man sure caught up with things fast enough, Christine thought giddily. Never again had she to ask him for a kiss; quite the contrary, he seemed too eager to share such moments with her, like a thirsty man who'd finally stumbled upon an oasis - he would take all affection that would be offered to him freely, making no demands of his own. But as far as intimacies went, that was it. Never an improper glance, never an incidental touch. Erik was too much of a gentleman to take such liberties, and Christine respected him the most for it. She could sense that he was trying very hard not to scare her away. Not that he had to worry, as far as she was concerned.

It was a sunny April day. For the first time in weeks, the sky was clear and not one single cloud could be perceived in the horizon. When Christine had suggested that they could wander around the impressive gardens, enjoying the first of warm days ahead, Erik had acquiesced. After a long walk, they were lying down next to the small river sitting against a tree trunk, her head poised on Erik's chest. The sun was shining brightly while they found themselves protected by the shadow the tree's foliage offered, and birds were chirping in the nearby trees.

"You are uncharacteristically quiet today." Erik's low teasing voice rumbled across his chest wall. She moved out of his embrace quickly and made an exaggerated offended expression, putting her hand over her breast for a slightly more dramatic effect.

"Whatever do you mean by that? You are the one who is always moping around, all moody and sulky."

"Come here, you little minx." She gave out a surprised cry. Fast as a panther, Erik strongly pulled her again against him, locking his arms around her waist, effectively keeping Christine prisoner of his embrace. She grumbled something unintelligible, only to make him smash her with more strength and outright sniff her hair. Christine couldn't help but smile a little. He must be really happy to keep holding me like this. "Oi! Are you sniffing my hair, monsieur?" Her cries were muffled, since Erik was practically crushing her face to his chest while nuzzling the top of her head, chuckling lowly.

"Look at us, resembling a normal couple." She giggled breathlessly, her bouncy curls unruly as ever crowning her head.

"Most people underestimate the ordinary, you see." The masked man sighed, but his tone was calm - content, even. While Erik raised his head, she could see him smiling peacefully, as she'd very seldom seen him. His green eyes were glinting humorously. Christine chose not to comment on what Erik had said, but she understood far too well what he meant. For someone whose life had been most chaotic and unfairly cruel, Erik treasured all small events, all things that could bring him closer to normality and give him the chance to blend in, even if for a little while. As Christine had often heard from him, their relationship was not something he had expected, not in the earnest sense of the word. Erik believed himself to be a cast out, a marginal - even though he had risen notably in Paris aristocratic social circles, there was still a deep belief that he remained alone against the world and would forever be denied the chance of happiness surrounded by loved ones. Of course such beliefs had started to lose ground once Christine showed him that life needn't carry on like that. There was a calm confidence in him now, of a man who was more self-assured. She sighed; such posture was becoming on Erik and Christine was glad for this slight change on his demeanor.

"Tell me something." Erik hummed inquisitively in response. "Tell me a story"

"Any story in particular, mademoiselle?"

Slowly, she rested her head on his shoulder again. "One that I have longed to know for quite a long time now - of how the Phantom of the Opera came to be the Angel of Music."

Erik seemed slightly surprised by the request, but soon resumed the relaxed state, staring lazily at the sky. Christine drank in every single expression he gave away. It felt like a privilege, seeing him so laid back, so comfortable around her.

"Very well then." He adjusted his position, so that they would be more comfortably seated without letting go of Christine.

"After running from Constantinople, I fled back to Paris. It was the only place I dared call home - Ópera Populaire. I had been a curious boy many years before and knew the the building better than the back of my hand - all the secret passages that allowed me to go back and forth as I pleased, the underground floors I had lived for so long in, everything was exactly as I had left it. Well, not quite." Erik gave out a little smirk. "About the same time, a scrawny little girl of six had just been admitted to the dormitories, a protégé of Antoinette. She was said to be the daughter of the late Swedish violinist Gustave Daaé. Though I'd never had the pleasure of hearing Daaé playing myself, he was quite famous in the musical circles." He stared directly at her and squeezed her hand lovingly. "There was nothing striking about the girl - an orphan like so many others who'd come to the operahouse. She was a plain shy creature, a quiet and small thing. I cannot say that I took an interest in her right away." Christine was thoroughly entertained by the way he conducted his narrative, almost as if he was telling a story on other people other than themselves. She found somewhat amusing and at the same time endearing the words he chose to describe her childlike self, knowing that he was being truthful in the way he had perceived her back then.

"A few days after her arrival, I heard a muffled crying sound coming from the northwest wing corridors, just where the old chapel was. There was the Daaé girl, kneeling on the cold hard stone ground. She was praying and a picture of a man was on her lap. She'd even lit a candle. The girl spoke of her father, heaven and… an angel of Music, who was yet to come. With childish pride she was trying her best not to cry out loud, but hopelessly so. Her father had made a promise, she kept on repeating it." This part of Erik's discourse brought tears to Christine's eyes. The remembrance of solitude and anguish after her father's death was still vivid, and a painful one. "I couldn't bring myself to leave her, so I stayed for a long time observing her, listening to her cries and sobs. Probably it was the first time I had felt compassion for another human being. I was young still, but many misfortunes had already befallen me - at the time, the world was a cruel fantasy and I must exclude myself from it at all costs." Erik brought one hand to Christine's hair, fondling it. "Everyday she came back to the chapel after rehearsals. Everyday she would cry again and again, begging her celestial father to send the Angel of Music to her. I stood and listened. On one of those days - even today I can't quite tell, she must have heard rustling. You always seemed to have this uncanny ability to sense me." He mused, alluding to the scene they had both shared on the operahouse rooftop. "Immediately, the girl turned her head towards the wall where the sound had come from - I was standing behind it, ready to take my leave. I didn't want to frighten her."

Christine looked at him. These memories were precious to both of them, but could easily notice how much Erik cherished them by the glint of his eye. It warmed her heart. "Please, go on."

Erik nodded. " She called by the Angel once and once again, until words from her mouth could barely be heard. She was crying in earnest, her face wet with tears. Then the girl broke and whispered, a desperate cry. 'Please don't leave me. I am so alone, Angel.' Something stirred in me as the child said those words. I had known loneliness in its most sour ways, but she didn't have to. I stood there, transfixed. She was…" Here he paused and struggled to complete the sentence, gulping. " …the first person who had ever wanted me to stay, who had ever needed me." Christine noticed his face quivering with emotion. Erik's voice was raspier. She held herself closer to him. "I hadn't been aware that such a feeling could exist." The masked man sighed. " That night, the girl was crying herself to sleep, as she did most nights. I didn't want her to see me. Since she slept on one of the far corners of the room by a window, through the upper ground I could sing so she would be the only one to listen. So I sang, wondering if a true angel would actually do that. As you might expect, the girl was delighted and bound me to the promise her father had made so many weeks before. I kept singing her to sleep almost every night." Christine smiled, remembering perfectly the scene described by Erik. It had been one of the best moments of her life, the moment when the angel had revealed himself to her. Too wonderful to be true, she sometimes had wondered.

" Some time afterwards, her better disposition had allowed her to make some new friends. Still, every single day the girl would come to the chapel and tell me all about her day. I patiently listened to her tales, assuming my rightful part as an Angel." Erik stopped for a little while, as if he was struggling with the next words. " Then, a few months afterwards, I found her singing some sort of a Swedish folk song to her father's picture - nothing I knew, truly. I was… astonished by her voice and decided that I would act like a proper music angel would - I would teach her how to sing and she would become the prima donna someday." He gulped, holding his gaze on Christine. "Then… everyone would love her and she would be surrounded by friends and countless admirers - she wouldn't have to be alone anymore." Tears prickled her eyes now, as she leaned over closer to Erik. It was indeed a miracle that they'd gotten this far, wasn't it?

"Eventhough I had recommenced my architectural projects at the time, I became quite determined to keep living in Ópera Populaire - it had noticed how terrible the management of the institution was, so I took matters into my own hands, becoming the Opera Ghost, I title I rather liked at the time." He smirked, but soon his expression turned serious once more. "I couldn't bring myself to leave you or the operahouse, eventhough I had built this house, at the counsel of Nadir. More than your voice or appearance, I think it was your fiery personality that drove me to you the most. Still, you were the kindest, unselfish person I'd ever had the chance to meet. Years went by and the girl I knew turned into a stunning and determined woman. I knew the games of make believe - the illusion behind the Angel of Music - would have to come to an end soon. The fact that the boy appeared only made me realise that perhaps it was time." Christine almost giggled at how jealous he still sounded while speaking contemptuously of Raoul. But out of respect, she kept her most serious face. "Of course, I had my reserves - for starters, I had no idea as to how my pupil would react. To add to this, I realized the dream of sharing a life with someone was growing as much as I tried to suppress it and was taking a more outlined shape than ever before. I saw you - and by God, you were heavenly. That's the all of the story, I guess." Breath caught up in her throat with his words. Erik meant every single word, she could tell - he wasn't one to take such things lightly. She sincerely whispered the words "Thank you", hoping her voice wouldn't betray the emotion she felt, and gave a loving peck on his unmarred cheek. They stood in silence for some time, embraced still. Christine hid her face on the crook of Erik's neck while he kept one arm around her waist and the other fondling her hair. Soon it would grow chilly and the sun would start coming down. However, neither of them wanted to move from where they were. It was too comfortable, it felt too right to disturb the completion of such a moment.

"Well, is that how you explain the doll and the dress?" Christine was teasing him, a playful tone evident in her voice. Surprisingly, Erik seemed unabashed by her words.

"In part, yes. I apologise, but I will say this much for my defense - I was at the height of passional obsession. I saw you face everywhere I went. Apparently it didn't scare you that much." He looked at her, giving her a shy smile which she reciprocated.

"How did you find out what my measurements were, anyway?" She asked, hoping he wouldn't notice her cheeks burning. He didn't.

"The costume department always keeps such things noted down." Oh. She hadn't exactly thought of that possibility. How embarrassing! She coughed discreetly. "How ever did you I suppose I knew them?" Erik was clearly catching up with her track of thought, considering the quizzical look he gave her. Christine felt her blushing intensifying.

"I-I don't know. Just thought it was curious, that's all." Liar, her mind accused her. She was evading the subject miserably and Erik knew it. Thankfully he let it drop, not without exhibiting a playful smirk. "It also explains how the dresses in my room fitted me." She said, in an attempt to smoothly change the theme of the conversation.

"Yes. Once I had decided to bring you here, I knew that we might not get the chance to take your belongings as well. So I ordered them. And rearranged the room, too."

" So it really wasn't a coincidence that I loved it so much!" She was surprised that Erik would have done all of it for her, but Christine knew the surprise element was unfounded. He had shown time and time again that her comfort was his biggest concern. Erik smiled at her, pulling Christine slightly in a teasing way.

"Hopefully not."

They stood silent for another couple of minutes, breathing evenly.

"I wanted to court you properly, you see." Erik was looking up lazily at the colour-changing sky.

"Oh?" Whatever she expected him to say, this had not been it. She sit up a little, so to face him directly. "So that is what we're doing, is it?" Christine couldn't resist teasing him, it was too much fun for her. His eyes quickly focused on her in wonder.

"I'm perfectly serious, Christine." Her smirk dropped a little. "I wanted to take you out to walk around the city, buy you flowers, gifts and all other things that people do when…" Erik paused, seemingly searching for the right words. "Well, when they engage in a relationship." He sounded as if things were still not completely real to him, as if it was fantasy and not real life.

"I don't think that is of consequence on proper courting." Christine gave him a bright smile, intertwining her fingers with his. "We already know each other better than many people do when they're in this phase. I guess I'll bind you to all the chocolate boxes I'm entitled to later." That earned a chuckle from Erik, who pulled her arm gently, bringing her again close to him.

As Christine resumed her earlier position, she spoke softly "It was a wonderful story, monsieur". The response she got was a kiss on the crown of her head, while Erik hummed quietly.

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