A ridiculously long one shot of Erik's story that he finally tells Christine... With a sugar sweet ending to follow. Enjoy!

As usual I do not own any of the characters and all rights go to Gaston Leroux etc.. Please review! Thanks.

Erik was not entirely sure what to do with the waif of a girl who stood shyly before him, shivering as the cold water seeped into her bones. He had found her splashing about in the lake, struggling for air as her dress seemed to drag her underneath the surface of the glass lake, for she had managed to capsize the boat she had been in. She looked rather sheepish at her awful attempt of seeing him again. Even though he had forbidden it. But he supposed she was just as stubborn as he, and if she wanted to see him, she would find a way too. Erik too was cringing at the cold water droplets that made their way down his pale skin from when he had jumped in and saved her, grimacing at the feel of his expensive black suit sticking to his skin which enunciated his thin form even more. He was feeling a cocktail of emotions; anger, happiness, joy and confusion at her return, but anger was the most prominent emotion, as always.

"What do you think you're playing at?" He hissed, clenching his hands into tight fists by his side in order to keep his anger in check.

"I'm sorry Erik... I just needed to see you again." Christine whimpered, running her hand across her cheek, though Erik wasn't sure if she was rubbing away tears or the water trickling down her forehead.

"You could've died Christine! I specifically told you, under no circumstances are you to traipse around the tunnels on your own! It's a miracle you got this far..."

"I'm sorry-"

"You could've drowned!" Now she did cry, and it was pitiful and shaky.

"I j-just... Couldn't bear the s-silence anymore." The poor girl sobbed, burying her face into her hands. Erik sighed, running a frustrated hand through his wet, tousled hair and clenched his eyes shut. That's when he felt a body against his, and thin arms wrap around his waist that startled him so much that he flinched violently at the contact. The sensation of an embrace was gone in a flash as she stumbled away and looked dejectedly at the floor.

"Sorry... I don't know what came over me."

"I... It's fine..." He muttered, stunned. Then he regained his professional, cold persona, "Come now, let's get you out of those wet clothes and then return you to the surface."

"To the surface?!" She all but squeaked with indignation as Erik forcibly led her through the decadent hallways of his underground home. Erik chose to ignore her and showed her to her room, practically shoving her in and locked the door from the outside.

"You shall dry yourself and change. Once you are ready, call my name and I will come."

"You haven't come the past few weeks that I've tried." He heard her mutter somberly and felt his heart twist in his chest. Why on earth did she want to see him so badly all of a sudden? The last time she was down here, she all but begged to return to the surface. Then again, she had removed his mask without permission and he had got ferociously angry with her, so much so that it had made her cower like a scared child in the corner of his parlour room! With a heavy sigh, Erik trudged to his own bedroom and peeled the sodden garments off his body and threw them in a heap by his door. He would not be wearing those clothes ever again, now that they smelt of lake water and he doubted the smell would ever go away. Gingerly patting himself down with a towel, Erik quickly dried and reached for a new shirt when he discovered that his ankle was bleeding quite profusely. At first, it shocked him. He had forgotten the last time he had seen himself bleed like this. But then it hit him, rather unpleasantly, as he thought of his time on the courts of Persia and the blood that dripped down his back in the stifling heat. Ah yes, that was when. How on earth had he done this? He stood wracking his brains in thought when he remembered that he had rather foolishly set off one of his own traps, and the snare had dug unforgivingly into his skin as he tried in haste to reach Christine. The screams made him more frantic, the snare dug deeper until he finally managed to set off the mechanism that would free him and then limped to save his angel. Now he stood rather stoically in his bedroom, stark naked and staring down at his nasty wound in wonder. It surprised him that it wasn't as painful as it looked but he guessed it was due to the fact he had grown accustomed to the sensation. It was Christine's shrill, but determined voice that broke him out of his stupor and quickly slipped on some black slacks, wincing as the material met his damaged flesh, and a white shirt that he buttoned up as he made his way to her room.

"Yes Christine, are you ready?" He asked, placing the key in the lock.

"I most certainly am and I demand to have an audience with you!" She replied strongly, tapping her foot in agitation as the door slowly opened to reveal Erik standing there awkwardly, as if he was leaning on his left leg more than his right.

"Are you alright?" She enquired, tilting her head to the side, appraising his tall figure. He grimaced and shook his head, turning away from her to hobble into the kitchen that was adjoined on to the parlour room, for there he kept his medical supplies stowed away under the sink. He heard her squeak in horror as she no doubt spotted the blood that was dripping down his foot and onto the wooden floor beneath him.

"Angel, you're hurt!"

"Yes, I gathered that." He huffed as he pulled out the box of medical supplies. Christine stood unsure in the doorway, watching as he removed several items from the crate before him, before he stood up and made his way back into the parlour.

"Do you need any help?" She asked timidly as he sat down and pulled up his trouser leg gingerly, revealing a very nasty cut that circled his ankle. It made her squeak in horror and she bit down on her tongue to stop the bile that was quickly climbing up her throat come out of her mouth.

"As much as I would like to do this myself, I may need your help. It's difficult for me to reach it."

"Yes of course! What can I do?" Erik winced again as he placed his foot on a foot stool and watched as she kneeled down beside him. He had not realised how deep the cut was.

"First, you need to wash the wound..." Erik gestured to the bucket and water jug that he had also collected, as well as a sponge. Quickly, she gathered the items and poured the water over his wound, grimacing at the blood that dripped into the bucket. Gently, she sponged the cut, it was so horrible to see the jagged infliction on her friend's ankle, until it was fairly clean, though it would not stop bleeding.

"You might need stitches." Was what she said as she gently cupped his foot in her hands. Erik rubbed a hand over the bare side of his face and murmured an agreement, though he couldn't bare the thought of seeing a needle. He quickly talked through the whole process of stitching with her, how to finish it off and what to do with the needle. Allowing a novice to attend to him wrecked his nerves, for he had had bad experiences with them. So whilst Christine sterilised the needle over a flame and threaded it with surgical thread, Erik gripped the arms of his chair in a cold sweat and clenched his eyes shut, awaiting the first pinprick. It was agony. It wasn't bad before but now it was being tempered with, oh hell. He thought he was going to faint. It was her soothing voice that kept him conscious.

"There, there... Almost done. It's nearly over." By the time she had eventually finished and was wrapping a bandage around his ankle, he was physically drained and drenched with sweat. So much for putting a clean shirt on. "Look at you, you're soaked! Come on now, let's get you changed." The words instantly worried him and he waved her away.

"No, no... I'm fine. I can do it myself." When he got up from his seat, he staggered forward and Christine had to catch him to stop him from falling flat on his face.

"Don't be silly. You helped me, now I'll help you. Come on, give me your arm." He meekly obliged and together hobbled back to his room. Once inside, Christine abandoned his side quickly, opening his wardrobe and withdrew a clean white shirt for him to wear. But then, she noticed a black silk night shirt and decided that he would probably benefit from a rest rather than aggravate his wound further by putting pressure on it.

"Here, put this on. You need rest. Would you like me to help you put it on?" He slowly shook his head and gingerly took the shirt from her.

"I'm fine, thank you." Christine nodded and stood there expectantly as Erik waited for her to turn around to change. "Christine, do you think you could... You know, look away?" She blushed bright red like a beetroot and quickly spun on her heel, facing the door with blazed cheeks. Quietly she stood there, listening to his pained grunts as he shifted from one foot to the other, before quickly putting all his weight on his left leg. He obviously lost a bit of balance for she heard him stumble and crash into the chest of drawers. Slyly, she stole a glance over her shoulder whilst asking, "are you alright?", but was unable to keep back the gasp that escaped her throat. Erik quickly glanced her way and blanched in fear to see her staring in shock at his pale, scarred torso.

"Christine, I thought I told you to look away." He snapped, quickly covering himself with the shirt. She flinched at the anger in his voice but still could not tear her gaze away from him.

"Erik... What...?" She whispered, now making her way over to where he stood, slightly trembling.

"Please leave."

"Why?"

"Just go!" He couldn't help but shout, terrified that she'd get closer to him and strip him of his defence. Demurred by his angry insistence, Christine quickly fled the room and ran into the library, quickly shutting the door behind her, leaving Erik standing shocked in his own room. Then with a heavy sigh, he replaced the shirt with a white one, for he knew it was going to be a long night of interrogations.

Christine had sat for a while staring into the flames of the fire, a blanket pulled up to her chin and a book open on a page but unread. Why was she always messing things up every time she came down here to spend time with him? She had knack, she realised, for making him angry and it was something she'd wish she'd stop doing because not only did it terrify her, she knew it was a defence for him to stop people pitying him. And when she though of those horrible scars that branded him like an animal, it made her heart ache for all the cruelty that he had been subjected to. No wonder he was bitter towards the outside world. No wonder he lived here, underneath, protected by thick walls of stone, away from the prying eyes of strangers. Her eyes wondered to the book she had picked out randomly and they widened in surprise when she realised she had picked out her favourite story. She was just about to pick it up to read when there was a sudden shift in the air and the door slowly opened, making her quickly avert her eyes. Pretending to be engrossed in her book, she waited for him to make his way over and join her on the sofa, which he did eventually with a limp.

"You should get a cane." She found herself saying, before quickly shutting her mouth into a tight, thin line. He merely grunted in response as he took a seat next to her and stretched out his injured leg with a grimace, before resting his head back against the sofa. It was quiet for a moment before Erik turned to her with a look of sincere regret.

"I'm sorry for shouting at you earlier." He muttered, dispelling the awkward silence.

"No, it's fine. I deserved it... You asked for privacy and I didn't pay any respect to it. It is I who should be sorry, and I am."

"Christine-" Yet she interrupted, ducking her head down.

"And I truly am sorry for putting you through that ordeal earlier, and being the cause of your injury. It was incredibly foolish of me and I promise I won't do it again." Erik gave a light chuckle, shifting his ankle ever so slightly closer to hers.

"It is fine, Christine. Besides, I've had much worse." Christine dared to look at him in the eyes and gulped at the intense uneasiness shown there, making her realise immediately that he was readying himself for the questions that she had running around her mind.

"Yes...I-I saw."

"I know you are curious." He said bluntly, surprising her a little.

"I am."

"Then say what you want to say. There's no point ignoring this subject."

"How... How did you get them?"

"I got them by disobeying the people who thought owned me, like I was their own personal pet. When I refused to do something, this was their answer."

"How old were you?" Erik sighed lightly and closed his eyes, the memories running torrent around his tortured mind.

"I was nine when I got my first ones. It carried on until I was thirteen and then happened again in Persia. I must've been about twenty but I tend to forget about Persia... Well I force myself to forget. It... It wasn't a very pleasant time for me, Christine."

"What happened?" She asked tentatively, horrified at his turbulent youth. Erik suddenly sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

"Many horrible, painful things. I have blood on my hands, Christine. I cannot get rid of it. It stains me... The blood of the innocent. I am a true monster."

"B-Blood?"

"Perhaps... Perhaps it might be best if I just tell you everything. Then I never have to worry about telling you in the future and it might make it easier for you to understand."

"Ok." With her agreement, Erik eased him self up off the sofa and limped towards a cabinet he kept in the corner of the library.

"Would you like a drink before I start?" He asked, unscrewing the lid off some kind of bottle though she could not make out what.

"No, thank you."

"Well, I need something strong if I'm going to have to tell you everything." He came back with a tumbler of whiskey and the bottle which he placed on the coffee table before him before taking his place next to Christine. "You had a happy childhood, right Christine?"

"Oh... Yes, I did, why?"

"It just gladdens me that you were able to grow up surrounded by love, that's all."

"So... You didn't?"

"No. I did not. My... Mother, hated my very existence. My father died before I was born in an accident at his workplace leaving my mother heavily pregnant and a widow. That left my mother distraught but she hung on to the fact that she was having a baby, a baby that would fill the place that my father had left, a beautiful child that she could adore and love. And then... She ended up with me. The doctor offered to have me killed as soon as I was born and they saw my face," he ignored her gasp of horror as he stared motionlessly into the fire still, "but for some reason my mother didn't allow it. Perhaps it was because the priest talked her into baptising me and then that way it would be a sin for me to be killed. So whilst I was not killed, I was still treated like an animal. My mother locked me in the attic most of the time, feeding me a little bread and water. I was forced to wear a leather mask, even when I was on my own... And she soon let me walk around the house... As long as I wore the mask. But she was frightened of me, not only because of my face but because she believed I possessed unearthly powers. I was very good at throwing my voice, ventriloquism... Playing the piano. She once told her friend that my singing voice acted as a trap and to block her ears should she ever hear me sing. I could read novels by the time I was three and played the piano expertly... And I had learnt three languages, French, English and German. So my childish self believed that that was the reason as to why she called me monster, and why she hated me. It was on my fifth birthday when I discovered why she truly hated me. My mothers friend Madame Perrault had convinced my mother to celebrate so she begrudgingly made me a cake and I remember clearly that Madame Perrault was incredibly kind to me and gave me a book on architecture but my mother gave me nothing. So... I asked her if I could have a gift. She looked as if she wanted to kill me where I stood but she agreed. Only... I asked her for a kiss, just one kiss and she lost it. She called me a little monster, a demon, and dragged me to the bathroom where we had a full length mirror. She stood me in front of it and removed my mask and... It was the most terrifying thing I had seen. I begged her to save me from the monster, but she told me 'you are the monster Erik. That is your reflection.' When I saw she was telling the truth, I grew wild with rage and smashed the mirror until it was reduced to shards on the floor..." Erik pulled up his sleeves and showed her the scars, "I didn't bother my mother after that. I let her beat me, do what she wanted for I simply didn't care. It was only when her new lover Ettienne appeared that I grew wary. He was as mean as her and one night I snuck downstairs and listened into a conversation of theirs. They considered sending me to an asylum, because they were frightened of me. I knew that if I was sent there then I'd surely never be free, so I ran away. I was nine. I haven't seen my mother since.

"That's when I met the gypsies. I had grown disoriented and hungry from weeks of travelling and attempted to steal a loaf of bread from their camp. They saw me, captured me and removed my mask out of curiosity, though what they saw pleased them greatly. Yes, they despised it and thought it horrid but they only had one thing on their mind, money. So I was locked in a cage, in nothing but my trousers and was forced to perform for the masses. I'd sing, my master would remove it, that was the routine every night. However I'd tend to misbehave, refuse to perform some nights, generally kick up a big fuss about it all. That's when he brought out 'Suki', his favourite whip and he'd use it to decorate me when he got incredibly angry with me. My master was an incredibly sadistic, cruel man... Slightly insane now that I think of it seeing as he named all of his whips like they were his treasured children... It was a dismal existence. Beatings, whippings... Other things."

"Other things...?" Erik was deadly silent before he slowly undid a few buttons of his shirt to show her a burn scar in the shape of a 'D' directly over his heart.

"He branded me. His name was Durriken. He told me not only did it show people who I belonged to, it also stood for Demon, just to remind me of what I truly was. And then... Well... He'd take advantage of me." He finished of quietly, fisting up his hands tightly, looking away from her who had tears running down her cheeks.

"How long were you there for?" She sobbed quietly, doing her best to wipe away the tears.

"4 years. I escaped when I was thirteen. I remember it being a bitterly cold night. I remember the smell of the camp fire smoke and the tobacco of the gypsies' pipes. I remember the gypsies dancing, singing, laughing. The pain I felt, that wasn't something I forgot either. It is all there, clearly etched in my brain. Every single little thing."

"How come you remember it so well?" Erik glanced her way before taking another sip of drink.

"Because that was when I committed my first murder. I killed my master. I strangled him, with his whip. I ran away and I never turned back." The only sound that Erik could hear was the ticking of the old grandfather clock, steady and loud, like the words that were pounding in his head."You never forget your first kill, Christine. It gets stuck in there, to haunt you for the rest of your life. Saying that... I don't regret it. He had it coming for him for a long time. I hope he rots in hell where he belongs." He finished off his drink and went to refill it when a dainty hand rested on top of his.

"Erik I'm... I'm so sorry." She cried, rubbing the tears away with her free hand.

"Don't be. It's not your fault. I don't want your pity Christine. I just need to you understand why I am like I am."

"But you were just a boy!"

"I was a just a thing to them, my dear. Nothing more. They couldn't care less about my age. I'm surprised my mother didn't sell me in the first place."

"Oh Erik..." He shrugged and gave her a sad smile.

"She didn't so I guess that's one thing. Anyway after that, I travelled a lot, I wanted to learn new things and soak up different cultures. I went to many places, like Amsterdam and pretty much everywhere in Germany. I even visited Sweden once. I ended up staying in Italy, in a small town just outside of Rome. There was a man called Lucius who was an architect and he took me in as in apprentice after he saw my drawings of the many beautiful buildings I had seen. He was a kind man, never questioned this," he gestured to the mask, "that was until his daughter started to pester me about taking it off. She was my age, very beautiful... And spoilt. Whatever she wanted, she would get and Lucius was helpless to her demands. Her name was Rosetta. One day, on the balcony, we all sat admiring the view when Rosetta got incredibly demanding and upset that I hadn't taken my mask off for her. She came and stood in front of me and refused to move until I had removed it but I still would not take it off. At first, Lucius tried persuading his daughter that it wasn't going to happen and that she should just leave me alone. Then after many minutes he gave up and told me the only way I would be able to get rid of her was to remove my mask and then she'd leave me alone. So I did. I removed my mask and the girl screamed in horror. She backed away so quickly that she reached the railing, which was rotten, and smashed into it so hard that the wood splintered and gave away, taking Rosetta down with it. She died because she looked at my face. Her father kicked me out in a rage and I ran away, slowly ending up in Russia." Then he winced and shifted his ankle again, the pain throbbing through his whole leg.

"Are you ok? I could try and find some morphine if you-"

"NO! I... No. Not morphine. Anything but that. I'll just have to wait it out."

"O-ok. Y-you know, it's not your fault that the wood failed to support her and... Well if she wasn't so spoilt none of that would've happened. So really... It's Lucius's fault for bringing her up like that."

"Only know would try and find reasoning in this sort of situation."

"Because you need to know that you are not the monster you think yourself to be."

"You haven't heard what I did in Persia." He sighed.

"I am ready to listen."

"I'm not so sure I'm ready to tell. But I must... So as I said, I ended up in Russia, making my living by doing tricks and ventriloquism, befuddling the awed crowds. That is when a Persian man, who you might have met, came to me from his home land to request for my services. It took much persuasion and perhaps a little bribery before I eventually decided to make the journey back with the man. Stupid idea, really. All that talk of fame and power and respect got to my head I suppose. For you see, the Shah of Persia was similar to an overweight, spoilt baby that demanded to be entertained all the time. That's when I came in. I was dubbed the court magician and I had to keep the Shah happy and entertained in his palace. However his mother, the Khanum was much more evil than her son and of course forced me to remove my mask. Once she found out she had her son stop using me as a magician and told him that I would be used to scare the prisoners they had locked away in their dungeons. I went along with it as per usual. Then one the main mason of the building was executed for not doing his job properly and I offered to take over after explaining I had trained to be an architect. So I built the most amazing palace for them, filled with secret tunnels and hidden jewels. But the one thing that pleased the Khanum the most was the maze of mirrors, a sort of torture chamber. It was then that I wanted to stop but then they introduced drugs to me and got me hooked on Hashish and other sorts of unseemly things that I had to stay if I wanted them. And yet the thing I got incredibly addicted to was morphine. It dulled the pain in my chest and head, the fresh scars I obtained from the guards for wishing to leave. It took me to another world.

'That's when the she used me to her advantage. Seeing I was so drugged up she knew that I would be like a puppet to her and I was. She had me become her assassin and torturer in the chamber. I'd chase people around revealing my face in all the mirrors, scoring them half to death. After days in the chamber the sun would affect them the most as it reflected off all of the mirrors creating the sensation of being trapped in a desert. I'd kill them once they reached exhaustion and begged for death and so I'd snap their necks with my lasso. This went on for a year, murdering, drugs... Doing what was asked of me. The Daroga, the man that came to Russia for me, tried weaning me off the drugs and helping me in general by letting me stay at his. I guess he felt incredibly guilty for what was happening to me after promising different results for me and tried to get me back to my normal self. He succeeded in weaning me off by hiding all of the drugs and locking me in a room for a few days with nothing but bread and water. It was the most horrific experience ever, I thought my head was going to burst and the crave was so strong that I almost damaged my hands by beating on the door so much. When it was over, he let me out and that's when I met Reza, The Daroga's son. He was a sweet but sickly little boy, he had a wasting disease, but it never stopped him trying to play with me. He was the only one who ever accepted me right away and never asked about the mask. I made him toys and read him stories, he would give me sweets and play tricks on his father with me. And then one day, Reza got very ill and it got progressively worse. He was in a lot of pain, coughing up blood, his bones were brittle and skin dry and cracked. His wept all the time and I told Nadir that the boy was going to die soon and be in a lot of pain when he did so. I had made up this concoction that would ultimately send Reza to sleep forever and said to Daroga that it would stop the pain he was in for good. At first he refused but after seeing the amount of pain he was in he allowed me to give Reza the drink and he slowly slipped away. After that, Nadir did not want to stay in the country and neither did I, so requested leave from the Khanum and the Shah. Of course they both refused and whipped me into unconsciousness for my disobedience and locked me away in their dungeon. By the time Daroga came for me in the night, my wounds were infected and I could hardly stand but somehow we managed to slip away without anyone noticing. It took me a month to recover completely. We ended up in Paris and ... Well you know the rest."

"You met me and became my Angel of Music... After everything you went through you still helped me get through my grief and never left my side." She whispered in awe, staring at him with her wide oceanic eyes.

"I knew what it was like to be lonely. I didn't want someone as young as yourself to be feeling the same way."

"You are a saint." Erik blinked at her and coughed dryly.

"Did you listen to anything I just said or...?"

"I did. None of it was your fault Erik. The gypsies pushed you to breaking point, Rosetta was accidental and the Shah kept you under his command by drugs. You didn't know what you were doing half the time! You were forced into doing what you did by the true monsters of this world and yet you still found it in your heart to be the companion of a very lonely, grieving girl who did not think she would survive had it not been for your friendship. Erik... You saved me. I was so close... So close. I couldn't bare the thought of life without him. But your kindness... It gave me something to live for. I owe everything to you." Erik blinked back tears in his eyes and shook his head.

"No...I-I can't have..." Her hands enclosed around his and gripped them tight, relishing the coldness of his skin against hers which was hot and flushed.

"You did. I do have one more question though..."

"What is it?"

"Could you perhaps remove your mask for me?" He physically balked backwards and almost fell off the sofa. Why on earth would she ask such a question? She knew what lay underneath and yet she still wanted to see the hideousness. Did she want to join the masses in their hatred? Or go against them and show...love? He scoffed at the thought and wondered where that had come from. She could never love him.

"Why would you ask me that?"

"Because I want the show you that not everyone in this world is cruel and mean." Erik laughed, though it was a cold and unfeeling one.

"If recall correctly, last time you saw it you cowered in the corner like some whimpering dog!"

"Only because you were so angry with me that you scared me!" She replied indignantly before squeezing his hand in a plea, "please Erik, you've entrusted me with your past. I am ready for the cause of it." Erik looked at her warily whilst his mind battled with scenarios that he couldn't help conjure up. True, he had entrusted her with his woeful past and she hadn't run away which was a first, and she was willingly touching him and wasn't grimacing at the coolness of his flesh. And when he looked at her, he noticed how she was being sincere, that she truly wanted to see it, nor had she screamed in terror when she saw a glimpse of his face last time, unlike Rosetta. So, with reluctance, he gave a sorrowful sigh and reached up for the ties that kept his mask secure and slowly undid them, letting the mask fall into his hands. He kept his eyes locked on a picture of a bowl of fruit straight ahead of him and wouldn't look at Christine for it was her reaction he feared the most. It made him flinch then when he felt her hand cautiously brush against the mangled flesh of his cheek, then trailed down to his hideous, swollen lip. Her finger tips, soft like rose petals, then made their way up to his nose, or an excuse for one and prodded the sunken in cavity gently, before skirting over to his eye, slightly sunken in as well, the ridges of skin pulled tight over his eye socket. His glowing golden eyes looked down to see her flushed fingertips and quickly averted themselves back to the picture. Her tips then drifted up to the part that he hated the most, the almost exposed skull, where the skin had been pulled so tight that his veins prodded against the surface almost painfully, creating huge lumpy lines and also the illusion that his skull was poking out of his skin. He flinched again when her whole hand now rested against his cheek and he relished at the heat that seeped from her into him, as well the general sense of comfort it brought. That's when he realised that she hadn't screamed, she hadn't run away and she hadn't called him a monster. In fact, much to his surprise, she now sat with her hand against his cheek and was not even whimpering with fear.

"H-how are y-you doing this?" He breathed, forcing the tears back that threatened to spill onto his cheeks any moment.

"I don't see a monster. I see a man, a dear friend, with an unfortunate affliction that isn't his fault that he has it and yet has been treated unfairly his whole life because of it. Erik, look at me." Erik obliged and stared into her wide eyes, trembling at the sensation of her flesh gently caressing his. "This doesn't horrify me. It doesn't disgust me. It makes you you and for that I don't hate it."

"I could kiss right now, you know." He said without thinking, but when he realised what he had just said he blushed a brilliant crimson colour and looked anywhere but her.

"Then why don't you?" She suggested shyly, her cheeks also flushed red. He looked at her agog.

"You can't be serious."

"I am." Then with a devilish smile, she leant forward so that her face was inches away from his before letting her eyes flutter close. Erik almost choked, his throat dry and harsh before he swallowed thickly and built up the courage. It quickly dissipated when he looked at her beautiful face and decided he couldn't allow something like him to kiss an angel like her. She cracked open an eye and saw the hesitation in his eyes as well as the self loathing and looked at him in sympathy, before she snaked her hand up to the back of his head and pressed her lips against his. He stiffened in shock, eyes wide, lips frozen, unsure of what to do, Erik sat there in total stillness before he allowed his trembling hands to cup her beautiful face. Then, he slowly and unsurely kissed her back, not quite sure if what he was doing was correct or not. When she pulled away with a soft smile on her face, he stared back at her stunned and didn't say or move for a few minutes which slightly unnerved Christine, who was quite convinced that she had someone how killed Erik for he didn't move one single muscle!

"Erik?" She questioned, touching his cheek which made him flinch and come back down to earth.

"Why?" He seemed to whisper, touching his lips where her lips had just been.

"Erik, there is a reason as to why I came down here tonight." Erik furrowed his brows.

"You said because you missed me..."

"I know but there was another reason. You see, when you sent me away I had a lot of time to think about you and our... Relationship and I discovered feelings that I had been hiding away for a long time. You see, I think I've always secretly liked you, even if you were just an angel but when I found out you were real... I - I was just so confused! And there few days we spent down here, before I removed your mask, they were the best of my life and I knew that I did like you. But you scared me so much that I begged you to take me back because I was so frightened and I didn't know what to feel but now... Now I know that this niggling feeling that I've had is true. Erik I... I think I'm... In love with you." He dropped the glass he had been holding in hand whilst listening to her monologue and ignored the fact that he had just smashed a very expensive crystal tumbler.

"W-what?!" He choked, thinking that he had somehow turned her insane.

"I know what I feel but I wanted to know how you felt about me... Do you love me?"

"Are you kidding?! You're my whole world Christine! I worship the ground that you walk, the air you breathe... I am so deeply in love with you that I fear you could control my heart and crush it in your hand should you wish it." She blushed a claret colour and moved some hair behind her ear. "Do you really mean it? You... You love me?"

"Yes." To her alarm, he burst into tears and buried his head into hands, shoulders heaving with great wracking sobs. "Erik?!"

"Y-you don't u-understand how m-much it means to m-me to hear someone say that b-but because it's you, it makes it even b-better!" He cried, it even caring if he looked weak in her eyes. That when he felt he arms wrap around him and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"You deserve love, Erik. You are human after all and I'm happy to give it to you." She soothed, softly rubbing her hand up and down his back.

"Thank you." He whispered, still crying though not as hard as before. Then he shivered when he felt her lips press against his head, which roamed towards the horrid exposed skull bit and stiffened when her lips pressed a gentle kiss against that. Erik removed his hands from his face, allowing her to place more kisses over his mangled flesh and shivered against the contact. This was a new sensation and was by far the best one yet. Finally, she placed her lips against his own, this time with slightly more passion than before and he eagerly responded, grabbing her hips so he could place her on his lap and kiss her a bit more easily. They kissed in to the night, overwhelmed with this new found love and overjoyed that they could share it with each other. Finally, they were happy.