It was deep into the night when Christine awoke from another restless sleep. As her eyes became accustomed to the dark she could see that the moon was bright outside, sending shafts of silver through a chink in the curtains. Throwing back the bed sheets, Christine stood up, walking over to the window and throwing aside the drapes. Light flooded the room and outside the gardens were illuminated as if it were the day, the leaves of the trees dripping with silver light. Carefully, Christine unlatched the French doors and opened them, the warm night hair wafting through her curls that rippled down her back. Something about the night comforted her; she found solace in its darkness. Everything was so still and peaceful, everything was soft and beautiful. The sweet summer breeze calmed her and she smiled before retreating once again into her room, drawing the curtains behind her.

The room was once again shrouded in darkness and as Christine drew backwards she felt herself press against something that hadn't been there before. Without turning, without moving, without saying a word she knew that this was no figment of her imagination; she knew that this was no waking nightmare. Her heart leapt instantly into her throat as she felt the warmth of his breath against her exposed shoulder. She could fight this she told herself, feeling how close his lips were to her ear. She could call out to Raoul and he would come…

"Silently the senses abandon their defences…"he sung, almost whispered into her ear, feeling her slowly submit against him.

"Grasp it…"he sung, guiding her hand to his cheek, "Sense it…tremulous and tender."

Could this really be the same man that had been so violent, so merciless? As he told her to listen to the music of the night she could hear it; the air seemed alive, the moon bathing them both in a dim, frosty light. She felt him take her hand and turn her round to face him, drawing her towards him as he sang,

"Open up your mind…let your fantasies unwind…in this darkness that you know you cannot fight…"

She couldn't tare her eyes away as he led, achingly slowly it seemed, back towards the bed. Christine felt a fire start in her stomach, and rise up through her throat as she sang,

"In my mind I've already imagined our bodies entwining…defenceless then silence…"

She felt herself blush, blood rushing to her face as she sang the words that he had written; the words that had spoken the truth.

"Our games of make believe are at an end." He sat down on the bed, gesturing for her to take her place next to him. She sat, unable to stop herself from twisting her body round to face him.

"What sweet seduction lies before us?" His voice sent shivers through her body, whilst he raised his hands to her face, sweeping back her hair before letting his fingers trail down her arms. Just as she felt as if she would collapse into him, their voices, hushed and ragged with passion mingled into one as they sang;

"Past the point of no return, the final threshold…the bridge is crossed so stand and watch it burn…" Christine's voice trailed off, feeling how dangerously close she was to submission, to letting this obsession consume her. He looked at her, desire plainly written across his face. He couldn't hide it with a mask as he sang, his hands moving steadily towards her waist.

"We've past the point of no return."

Rushing through the narrow streets of Paris, he couldn't bring himself to contemplate the events that had just taken place. Everything which had been so certain before; the choices they had both made seemed doubtful as he thought of what had passed. The streets were empty so it was safe for him to walk in the fragile light of morning, unafraid of being recognised. However it was not until he had descended once more down the slimy spiral staircase, to the place that had remained untouched by the flames that he could feel secure; safe in the knowledge that no-one would find him here; no-one would disturb him.

As he sat down at the organ he faltered, exhausted, knocking the sheets of music so that they tumbled to the floor. It was unthinkable, unimaginable what had passed between him and Christine and yet he could not forget…too vivid it was in his mind. So recent was the feeling of having her close that he could still smell the feint traces of her perfume on his skin. It made him shudder to have her still so attached to him…still so much a part of him that an uncontrollable growl of fury passed his lips, and echoed about the cavern. How could he have left her when she was so close to submission? How could he spare her when she was so willing to give?

Christine could not sleep after her angel had left her, sitting on the bed. She had let him caress her…she had guided his hand…she had offered up her lips to his and yet he had not kissed her. On opening her eyes she saw that he had frozen, and his eyes had glazed with tears. He had drawn back cautiously, his face full of pitiful pain before leaving; leaving Christine alone to contemplate what had happened.

She had meant to call to Raoul but the words had never come. She had intended to protest, but her mouth would not form the words. Instead of resisting she had succumbed to his seduction, following his every lead…every wordless command. It was as if nothing vile had passed between them; it was as if he had never tried to murder the man she loved, as if he had never intended to take her prisoner against her will. She had been so close and she could sing once more; the notes of their song still clinging to the air about her.

What would Raoul think of her? What had become of the girl he had loved? She loved Raoul still, unfathomably, but how long could she keep up this charade? She didn't want to lie; to herself, to Raoul or her angel…her angel. As she lay, nauseating guilt swam through her stomach. She thought of the way that Raoul had begged to let him sacrifice his own life, rather than see her trapped with the Phantom. Yet this was the second time that she had offered herself to the Phantom…and the second time that, for her own sake, he had let her go.