Her hands are trembling as she undoes the ribbon on the rose's stem, slipping the diamond ring off of it. She places it on her finger, feeling as though she's still in a dream. She never wants this ring to leave her finger, ever. Even in the dull lighting of the dusty old dressing room, the diamond still manages to sparkle and takes her breath away.

There are hours and hours yet before she will see him, but she dearly hopes that perhaps he'll be somewhere in the air vents or behind a curtain or peering out from a crack in the wall and he'll see his ring upon her finger, and he'll know. Of course her answer is yes, of course it is.

The first thing she does after she does after leaving the dressing room and and getting changed for the day is to find Madame Giry and show her the letters and the ring. Giry hugs her tightly and congratulates her and cries before telling her to get back to work.

All day long her heart feels as though it will simply burst out of her chest. She can barely focus on her work for the day, always finding her eyes drawn to a clock, always counting the hours and minutes until that night.

After all the guests are settled in for the final show of the night, Madame Giry dismisses her early.

She clasps her hands and looks up her up down before letting her go.

"My dear little Christine, all grown up and practically a married lady now." she sighs. "Go and get ready for him now, dear."

Christine is almost out the door when Giry calls her back.

"There's just one last thing I must ask of you, Christine."

Giry smooths down her skirt anxiously, trying to find the right words, the correct way to say what's on her mind.

Christine nods solemnly, waiting to hear what she has to say.

"I know this night has been a long time in the making for you two, but... Please try to be respectful of my office." she raises an eyebrow at Christine, who promptly dissolves into a fit of giggles but gives her her word that nothing terribly untoward will happen anywhere in her office.

She has time now to wash up and fix her hair and makeup. She puts on the new dress she has been saving for a special occasion and hopes that he'll like it. Even after all of this, she still has extra time. She knows she should eat something, but she doesn't think she could even manage a sip of water though her throat is so dry. So she heads to Giry's office instead. She has far more than an hour to wait, and she knows that he will be punctual to the exact second, but she can't bear the thought of him possibly opening that door and her not being there on time - that after all of this, everything they've been through to get to this moment, that it might all come crashing down because of a misunderstanding that she was merely late and not rejecting him.

There's already a fire going in the fireplace. The clock above the secret door steadily ticks away the time. She paces the room and smooths down her skirt, fixes her curls, adjusts her sleeves. Quite simply, she doesn't know what to do with herself, and it takes all of her willpower to not simply dash down the corridors and through the catacombs and find him wherever he is and fling herself into his arms, even if she has to swim the entirety of the underground lake to do so.

She settles onto the couch and closes her eyes, attempting to take deep breaths. Every nerve in her body is thrumming and she feels lightheaded from it all. How she will not simply faint clean away when that door opens she hasn't the slightest idea.

Giry is right - this night has been a long time in the making. They have each changed so much since the last time they were nearly engaged, it seems like a lifetime ago. There's a sad irony, she thinks, that all the things he did back then to try to win her over were exactly the things that drove her away. Perhaps if, back then, he had been more like he is now then he never would have even been in competition with Raoul. Raoul did not have fits of anger or possessiveness or lie to her - but Raoul was not her Angel of Music either. She wonders, briefly, how much sooner she would have wanted to married Erik had it not been for those distortions of the soul. She had loved him even then, yes, but she knew she deserved a relationship with someone who didn't frighten her in the ways that Erik did at the time, and that it was not her job to stay and try to fix him into a better person.

But it does not do to dwell long on the past when the future is stretching out in front of her. He is no longer the man he once was, and now he is to be her husband and she holds no fear over any of that, no regrets. They will move forward together.

She watches the firelight dance over her engagement ring, how it picks up little flashes of color. After Raoul, she had not held high hopes of ever being anyone's fiancée again. Now, she cannot imagine her life any other way - it just feels right to be here with him, to wear his ring, to be planning this future.

She sighs happily as she leans back on the couch, drunk in love and nearly overwhelmed by it all. Her eyes find the clock and her mind continues its constant count of the moments that separate her from her future husband.