I want to say that this story is finished, but alas, it is not. There's quite a few ties to wrap up and we have a little more to get through.

I apologize it's taking me so long to get these chapters up. I have a lot going on right now, but I am trying to write a little bit here and there when I can. I also apologize if there are any mistakes.

Let me know if you liked this chapter :) I love hearing from you.

There is adult content in this chapter. It's not overly graphic and is, I hope, tasteful. If you're not into this, you can stop reading once they get to the bedroom. :) I did raise the rating to Mature, just in case.

Chapter Seven

Christine watched him fiddle with the key in the ignition. Her heart pounded in her ears, the silence loud between them. They were now on even more uncertain terms than they had been before. What had she expected? For him to fall down to his knees in front of her and weep with joy? No, but she hadn't expected him to not respond at all.

She was too fearful of being rejected to pry a reaction out of him. Did he not love her as he had before? Was the kiss only because she had thrown herself at him? All sorts of scenarios where her heart broke in the end swirled through her mind, keeping her from speaking.

He replaced the mask but left the glasses, sliding them into his pocket before driving off. They continued their journey in silence, only breaking it to talk about safe topics such as the scenery or if she needed to use the restroom.

She slept in the car. They did not stop at another motel. He was adamant about making it to the safe house as quickly as possible. Christine didn't want to think about what would happen once they got there. He had made it quite clear that he'd leave her there and she'd never see him again.

Her heart throbbed painfully when they drove up a mountain, thick with trees and only a small dirt road to lead the way. Was there anything she could do or say to keep him from leaving? To make him stay? She was horrified to be left there alone and for him to leave her life again.

The safe house was tucked away in the northern peninsula of Washington State, miles away from civilization. It was wooden with large windows in the back and seemed homely even if it hadn't been lived in for however long. It would have been quite beautiful had there not been a dark looming cloud above them.

Inside, it was furnished with sheets covering most of the furniture, something Erik began uncovering as soon as he had kicked on the breaker to liven up the house. She took her time exploring, gently running her fingers along the wooden walls and admiring the cozy atmosphere.

She came to a stop, her eyes heavy on the beautiful wooden grand piano in the corner of the living room. He had uncovered it previously but had not said a word to her regarding it and was busy using a duster he'd found to clean the counters and such.

Just the sight of it made her remember that the house was his. A tiny smile graced her mouth while feeling horrendously heart sick. What she would do to go back to those simpler days where all that mattered was singing for him as he played?

She turned around and caught him staring at her, still not wearing the sunglasses to hide his gaze. She paused, looking back at him and unable to hide the sense of horrifying loss she was already feeling.

"This place is lovely," she said clumsily, her throat tight. "I can see why you chose it."

"I built it," he corrected, hesitantly moving toward her and the piano.

Her eyebrows rose and she looked around the room with new eyes. "You did?"

"Architecture is a hobby of mine."

Christine was surprised by this but really, she shouldn't have been. She'd seen his underground home and had known he'd built it. The need to learn more about him, to learn everything, rose up in her but she held it back.

"It's impressive."

He did not respond and instead continued to the piano, his long gloved fingers running along the top, fondly reminiscent. "I built this as well. I had forgotten it."

She turned back to the piano and glanced up at him. "Would you play it?"

Immediately he closed off and became stiff. "No." He swiftly turned away and walked back toward the kitchen. "I'll have to venture out to get you food to begin your time here. I know of a… person who will be able to assist you moving forward. He knows you will be here."

Christine frowned. "Who is it?"

"His name is Nadir. He is a… friend, of sorts. You can trust him. He will keep you safe when I leave."

"But Erik-"

But he was gone from the room. Why was he so difficult to talk to? Her eyes burned with unshed tears and she fell pitifully down on the piano bench. She opened the cover from the keys and stared down at the black and white craftsmanship. He had built this? He really was a wonder.

She took a deep breath and tried to think logically. She refused to let him leave her again. Couldn't he understand by now that he was a part of her? That he owned her heart and her soul?

Staring down at the piano, she lay a hand where he had touched. Feeling miles away from him already. How soon would he be leaving? Would she have enough time to convince him?

How would she convince him?

She knew the answer. The problem was getting the courage to actually say it to him. After everything they'd been through she was still afraid. The strong feelings he drew up in her were intense and made her anxious. At the same time, she wanted to feel that way. To allow herself to truly be free with him and in return, have him feel free as well.

She was sure he'd never felt that way in his life. Could it be possible for them to start over? To begin a life together without secrets and threats and danger hanging over their heads?

She certainly hoped so.

She found him in the bedroom, shaking out blankets to finish making the bed. She paused in the doorway, watching him for a moment. She was sure he knew she was there but didn't look at her immediately.

He slid long, gloved fingers over the creases of the royal blue, velvety blanket and then stood to his full height. Staring down at the bed, he exhaled sharply. "What is it?"

Christine fumbled with her hands in front of her. "How soon are you planning on leaving?" She forced herself to ask. She needed to know how much time she had left.

He chuckled bitterly, shaking his head a little. "Ready to be rid of me, are you?"

Her heart jumped, cheeks flaming. "No, Erik that's not-"

"Don't worry your pretty little head, my dear. Erik will be gone come nightfall." He finally looked at her and she sucked in a breath. Why was it so hard to talk to him?

"You won't leave without telling me goodbye, right?"

"Why would it matter?"

She took a step into the room and he visibly stiffened, eyes avoiding her again. "Because… because Erik. You can't just disappear. Please."

They stood there for a long moment, her pleading with him and he obviously struggling with the thoughts in his head.

"Promise you won't leave without telling me goodbye?" She tried again.

Erik finally sighed and glanced up at her. "I promise."

"Thank you," she told him, a small smile of relief turning her lips. Her stared at her, eyes unreadable.

"Make a list. Of what you'll need. I'll procure it for you."

Christine trembled, finding herself nodding as he swiftly moved past her. She closed her eyes. She had allowed him to think she wanted him gone. What was she doing? How was she to tell him?

But he wouldn't listen. How would she get to him to listen?

Her eyes snapped open. There was only one way she knew for a fact would get him to listen to her. One way that had always worked.

She swallowed thickly. But could she? Truthfully, she hadn't done so in almost a year. For him, longer than a year. She probably sounded horrible. He'd run away if he heard her unpracticed voice.

But maybe not. Maybe she could get through to him, using the language that they had always fallen back on when words failed them. Music.

She shakily took a breath and returned to the living room. She didn't see him. He didn't seem to stay in one place for very long. She'd have to draw him out.

Nervous as she was the day she sang in front of the theater company for the first time, she slowly walked over to the piano on weak knees. She sat down, staring at the keys for a long time.

She could do this. She'd done it many times before. He was her instructor. If anyone was familiar with her voice in all forms, it was him. Besides, this wasn't a lesson. He wasn't there to critique her unpracticed voice.

Christine placed her hands over the keys and paused. She hadn't played the song in so long. Perhaps she had forgotten it. She swallowed down the last of her nerves, pushing herself to become determined.

When Erik had forced her to sing the song, she had been horrified. The music was beautiful, as was most of what he wrote, but the lyrics… the lyrics had spoken of love, of passion, of yearning for someone so strongly that nothing else could ever compare.

At the time, she had felt afraid of his feelings for her. Especially with how he had portrayed them. Yet now, it was she who felt that way.

She pressed a key, the acoustics in the room were amazing. She shouldn't have been surprised. She glanced around her, wondering if he'd appeared at the sound. Unfortunately, he did not.

She took a deep breath. So be it. If she butchered the song, at least the meaning would get across. Or at least she hoped. Using his own words to convey how she felt about him had to be the only way to get him to listen. To stay.

She just hoped he was in the house. She wasn't even certain if he was.

No matter. She began the intro, the notes coming back to her through muscle memory. Erik had made her learn to play it so she could practice it over and over again, even when he was busy. Busy tormenting the managers, she realized, but it came in handy now.

Closing her eyes to block out the rest of her nerves, she sang. It started out weak, her voice hesitant and unsure. However, as she became comfortable with her voice once more, she opened her mouth wider and let the song speak freely for her.

Her heart hurt. Thinking of the time that had passed where she had thought him dead. The utter loneliness and despair. The torture of living each day without the man who had not only given her voice to her but also her best friend. Would she have felt differently if she had known who he was from the beginning? Possibly, but they'd never know.

All that mattered was that he was alive and this was her only chance to be honest with both of them. To finally allow herself to feel the way she was meant to for him.

She was nearing the end of the song when she heard it. Her eyes opened but she didn't turn around, intending on finishing the song to prove her point. When the last note rung out and the sound of the piano waned, she took a deep breath and chanced a look behind her.

Erik was on his knees, on the floor behind her. His head hung and his hands gripped his pants tightly. His eyes were shut and he looked to be in pain.

"Erik?"

A strangled sob came from his throat at the sound of her voice. A hand went to his forehead. "Christine I-" He broke off anguishly and turned his head away.

Christine didn't know how to respond to his reaction to her song. She slowly got off the bench and knelt down beside him on the ground, carefully to not spook him away. "Erik. Are you okay?" She wanted to reach out and touch him, but held herself back.

He choked on a laugh. "Am I okay?" He dropped his hand back to his leg and finally opened his tearful eyes to look at her. His gaze pierced her and burned her skin. "What… why… why, Christine?"

Her bottom lip trembled and she pressed it against the top to stop herself. "I… isn't it obvious?" She asked him, eyes moving across his face. The time was now, she realized. He needed to know. She took a deep breath. "I lov-"

Suddenly a hand shot out and was on her mouth, startling her from finishing the confession. Her eyes widened and found him searchingly.

"No," he choked. "No. Do not say it. Not now-" he broke off and turned his face away.

She batted at his hand and was relieved he let her move it. "Why?" Her whole body was tense now.

Erik got to his feet, putting distance between them. He was half way across the room before she was able to get to her feet.

"No! Don't you dare walk away. Not after I sang that song! After I-"

Erik stopped walking and his hands went into fists at his sides. "Make a list."

Christine blinked. He was just going to dismiss it? Dismiss her love for him? "So that's it then. You don't love me anymore. Just a few days ago you told me you did. So what has changed?"

"Changed…" he repeated slowly. "Ah yes, everything has changed." He turned back around and regarded her with a heavy glare that made her wince. "That song you sang to me was written out of a desperate attempt to hear you say the things I wanted to hear most. Perhaps that was wrong of me but you must see that I was in fact, desperate. Desperate for love. For a woman to look upon me with kindness and compassion. You were the only one that mattered, Christine. You have been the only thing that keeps my wretched heart beating no matter how much I long for my life to end. I burn for you, Christine. I always will. But you are a child. You do not understand these things. I see that now."

Christine felt like she had been slapped. "A child?" She asked incredulously.

"Correct. I made a mistake. Well, I've made plenty in my life, but one that I will always have to torment me is that I was forcing you to feel as a woman should when in fact you are not capable."

"You have no idea what I feel!" She snapped, unable to bear the things he was saying after she poured her heart out. "You self-centered, foolish man! You only think of yourself! How you feel."

"And if not me, then who?" He countered, eyes flashing.

"Me! I think of you. But do you think of me? Of what I feel? No! Of course not. Christine Daaé couldn't possibly think for herself. No! She's just a sad little girl who needs others to take care of her."

"From where I stand, that is all true. You do need to be taken care of. You wouldn't be here, if that wasn't the case."

"Because of you!" She laughed in disbelief. "None of this would have happened if you hadn't gotten yourself mixed up with a mafia! If you hadn't made it abundantly clear to the world that you wanted me."

"Oh yes, please remind me that I am only capable of vile discretions!"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh stop with the self hatred. I cannot take any more of it! I understand you had a hard life, Erik, but do you think it's been easy for me?"

"Your life has been far easier than mine, you foolish child!"

She put a hand to her forehead, taking a deep breath. "This is ridiculous. This isn't a competition about whose life has been worse."

"You're right. It's not."

She frowned and dropped her hand. Staring hard at the floor, her heart in shambles, she fought with herself to keep standing in the room with him. None of this had gone the way she'd hoped. Now… now he'd be gone and there was nothing she could do about it.

She exhaled and then spoke softly, pain unable to hide from her voice. "I sang that song because I was trying to tell you how I felt about you," her hand went into a fist at her side. "I've felt that for a long time but didn't want to admit to myself. I thought you were dead once. But now that I know you're alive, it's given me time to come to terms with how I feel. I wanted you to know because you deserve to know that someone does care about you. More than I'm willing to admit. I'm horrible with expressing myself and I know you are too… it's why I chose to sing to you. Because no matter what is spoken between us, I know that you and I… music is what binds us together. It always has." She finally looked up at him through hot tears, he stared back at her silently. Eyes unreadable. "If you do not feel the same for me, then tell me. Tell me right now and I will prepare myself to lose you again. But if not-"

He crossed the distance between them in a matter of seconds and she broke off, craning her neck to look up at him in surprise by the nearness. "Do you not know how long I have burned for you, Christine?" He asked her, voice velvety and hot against her skin.

She shut her gaping mouth. Hesitant fingers lifted to her hair, smoothing strands away from her face. A tear escaped her eye and slid down her cheek. A long spidery finger swiped it away. "And now?" She breathed shakily, hopeful yet fearful of the answer.

His eyes implored hers and his hand trailed down to her neck. "Now… now there is nothing but us two." He released her to remove his mask, sliding it off of his chin and into his pocket. "If you will have me."

She stared up at him, taking in his horrible features: his hole for a nose, his sunken yellow eyes, his pale, sullen skin stretched taut along his bones. And yet, here stood a man who loved her with everything he possessed. Who understood her better than anyone could. Who was music itself.

She touched his cheeks with cold fingers. His skin was even colder. He watched her face intently and she let her hands wander along the sharp angles and thin veins that made up his face. He briefly shut his eyes when she reached his eyebrows, the sparse hair there, barely even standing up to its name. When she was finished exploring, she slid her hands over his wig and removed it as well, dropping it to the couch next to her.

She had a feeling that he wouldn't truly believe her if it wasn't to him in his full appearance. She met his eyes that looked fearful and uncertain, but hopeful just the same.

"I want you, Erik." She tried to smile at him. To convey her meaning, but it was unnecessary.

For as soon as she had finished saying his name, he had crushed her to him. His thin lips descended on hers and she released a sigh of relief against them. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he held her just as closely. It made her body come alive and she lost herself completely to the welcoming feeling.

Perhaps this was what he'd always felt for her. What had driven him to madness. It could be that she had always felt this and it was what drove her to the arms of another man, someone safe but unfulfilling. It was this that she had needed all along.

It wasn't lost on her that this was the first time he'd initiated a kiss. She smiled against his mouth and clutched at him. This is what she'd been waiting on.

The rest of the evening, they spent in each other's company. He had left only briefly to pick up dinner for her, making her admittedly nervous he wouldn't return, and when he did, she hugged him tightly to her. Hardly believing that he was now hers and that he wouldn't be leaving.

She ate at the table with him, feeling happier than she had felt in a really long time. He hadn't bought anything for himself, of course, but she was pleased when he finally took a small bite of the offered sandwich. It has only taken her best attempts at prodding to make him do so.

Once finished with the meal, they made their way back to the living room, sitting alongside each other on the sofa. She looked over at the piano and he followed her gaze.

"What is it?" He asked her curiously. "Care to sing me another song, will you?"

She turned back to him, meeting his teasing eyes, and smiled. "I don't think my poor voice is up to singing more tonight, I'm afraid. I'm surprised I was able to keep up with what I did sing."

A hand lifted to her hair, fingers playing with the soft strands. His eyes were softer than she'd seen them. "It was perfect. As are you."

Her cheeks grew warm but she smiled through it. "I'm not as perfect as you've always thought."

"I'll always think you're perfect," he murmured to her and she swallowed at the intensity of his eyes.

"I… I was actually wondering if you'd play something," she confessed, hopeful. She hadn't heard him play in so long.

Erik hesitated, eyes staring at his hands on her hair. "Is that what you wish?" He whispered.

She smiled, putting a hand on his arm. "Very much so. I've missed hearing you play."

Erik's eyes found hers and she squeezed his arm softly. He took a deep breath and finally released her. "Very well."

She followed him over to the piano and watched him sit, taking his gloves off and stretching out his fingers. She smiled in anticipation.

He paused and his eyes found hers. "What would you like to hear?"

"Anything."

His eyebrows rose. "Anything? So, Wagner, is that right?"

She laughed then, not noticing how his eyes softened and warmed at the sound. "Something a little less angry, perhaps?" She sat down next to him on the piano bench, easily as he was so thin. "Maybe one of yours?"

Erik hesitated and looked down at the keys in thought, eyebrows furrowing. "Perhaps that isn't a good idea."

She gently nudged him with an arm. "Let me hear it."

He looked up at her smile, contemplating it, before giving a sigh. Her smile brightened when he posed his fingers over the keys once more.

She didn't recognize the song. It wasn't one he'd played for her before. It was slow, gentle, but unyielding and strong. It made her eyes close and her heartbeat in time with the notes. His fingers danced effortlessly along the keys, notes conjoining in a way that no other melody could conjure.

She didn't realize she was leaning against him until the last note played and her eyelashes fluttered as she opened her eyes, coming back down from the cloud she'd been on.

She looked upwards and found him staring down at her, eyes warm and heated. She felt a little breathless at the feeling of them on her face. One his hands lifted from the keys to brush hair from her face, fingers lightly tracing her skin. She swallowed anxiously, feeling that draw for him that she'd always felt.

She slowly lifted her head from his shoulder, not taking her eyes from him. His music still swirled around her, warming her from the inside. His lips parted and she could hear his light breathing from their nearness.

She could get lost in his eyes forever. That impenetrable gaze of gold. She wished she could transform it to a jewel, a stone that she could carry with her everywhere. If only he'd look at her forever.

"Thank you," she told him in a little over a whisper. "It was lovely."

Erik didn't respond, his eyes carefully running over her face as his hand tangled in her hair. His eyes were unreadable. She had no idea what he was thinking but the air in the room was electric, sending tingles where his fingers met skin.

"You are lovely," he finally spoke, his velvety timbre washing over her, making her heart beat just a little faster.

She wasn't sure who moved in first, but their mouths collided simultaneously, warm and gentle. His hand held her head to him, hers finding passage on his chest to steady herself.

She opened her mouth in invitation and she noticed idly how he trembled. His fingers tightened in her hair and his other arm snaked around her waist, their kiss deepening.

Her fingers slid upwards over his turtleneck, desperate to find skin but he covered himself so completely it was difficult to do so. Eventually, she found a sliver of his neck, cold to the touch but soft and welcoming.

The touch made him crush her closer to him, a small sound emanating from the back of his throat. He broke off from the kiss, trailing light presses of mouth along the edges of her jawline and down toward her ear.

She breathed heavily and clutched onto him, desperate for something she did not know. Her body became inflamed by his warm kisses and the way he breathed hotly against her skin.

"Ah, Christine," he spoke recklessly, hand traveling down her back. "I fear I am losing much of my control." He drew up and found her half lidded eyes, his mouth reddened and flushed from his kisses. "I am but a man. A man who is closely losing his mind over you."

Her heart pounded loudly in her ears. She knew exactly what he meant and her skin buzzed with the implications. She had not been ignorant to what he had always yearned for.

With Raoul, he had tried on many occasions to coax that feeling out of her as well, but she had never felt like it was ever the right time. Always leaving him disappointed and leaving her confused with why she was holding back.

It made a little sense now, situated on the piano bench in the arms of her mentor, her best friend, and the man she knew she loved.

Was it the right time now? She wondered a little breathlessly, staring into his heated golden eyes. Her body ached for him to touch her. To keep kissing her in the way he'd been. She couldn't deny she was a bit overwhelmed by it all but she also could not lie and say she didn't want it to continue.

She slowly traced the amount of skin she'd uncovered and gave him a smile, watching as his body twitched and his breathing becoming heavier. His eyes lowered to her mouth in a quick glance.

"I'm not afraid of you losing your mind over me anymore," she confessed, a small teasing glint in her tone, but she meant it. His eyes widened and he stared at her for a long time, seemingly trying to decipher her words and meaning. She leaned up and kissed his jaw, his cheek, and then finally the corner of his mouth. "You once told me that your music would burn me. However, I feel that burn regardless, of just being touched by you. I want you to… burn me."

Erik choked on a gasp when she spoke. "You don't know what you're asking."

"I do," she smiled and then drew away from him, his hands almost clutching her clothes to keep her there, but she was able to get to her feet. She put a hand out to him. "Come with me?"

He seemed to be at war with himself, eyes flitting from her face to her hand multiple times, before finally, putting his hand in hers.

She led him to the bedroom, to the perfectly made up bed. She kicked her shoes off and sat down on the edge, feeling a little nervous now that she was there with him.

He seemed to be feeling similarly because he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, long fingers tapping in agitation on his legs, staring at the bed behind her.

She tried to keep her trepidation to more of a simmer and patted the bed next to her. "Sit down with me?" His fingers stilled.

Erik, although normally covered by a mask, was vulnerably exposed and she watched as many different expressions graced his features before exhaling. "Yes, yes of course," he said softly and then made work by closing the door, then went to the windows to close the sun blocking curtains.

She blinked into the dim lighting, the only illumination coming from the top of the curtain where the sunset was creeping through. She fumbled with her hands in her lap, patiently waiting for him to join her.

He hesitated once at the bed, before slowly sitting down next to her. Despite her heart beating quicker at his nearness, at what she wanted, what she knew he wanted, she reached over and took his fist that was placed on his knee.

"Are you alright?" He was refusing to look her in the eye and she wondered if he was having second thoughts. "If you don't want to, it's okay. We can just… do what you're comfortable with."

"No, no it's not that I don't want to. God, do I want to. It's that…" he trailed off, eyes falling to her hand on his. "This is a bit surreal for me, if I'm honest. I never thought - never in my wildest dreams did I ever foresee… but you're here now." His golden eyes lifted to hers suddenly. "You want this?"

The heartbreaking fear that filtered his question made her squeeze his hand gently. "I do. I… am nervous. I've never…" She pressed her lips together as her cheeks warmed.

"Never?" He asked her in surprise, making her look back up at him to see the twist of his features when he spoke. "Not even with-"

"No," she hurriedly assured him. "No, never. I… we came close a few times but I always stopped it."

Thankfully he did not press that particular subject. Her fingers threaded with his. If they were to get through this, through their anxiety and fears, they'd need to get back on comfortable ground.

She tugged on his hand, pulling him closer to her and he hesitantly obliged. Leaning down to her height, he allowed her to kiss him. Soft and slow at first, then a little deeper, a little firmer, until they had their arms around each other again, losing each other in the passion that they were drowning in.

This hadn't been her plan. She had only wanted to make him stay. To tell him how she felt. However, now that they were here, laying upon the bed, hands roaming, clothing being shed, she felt in her heart that this was exactly what she'd been wanting.

The dreams that she'd had before, the ones where she woke hot and sweaty, yearning for long fingers to touch her that would never come - they paled in comparison to the real thing.

They both were clumsy. Inexperienced. Unsure of the other. It would take quite a bit of time and practice to learn everything, but they did not let it deter them. Hesitant touches became sensual caresses, kisses became hotter and tasteful, sighs became cries of pure bliss. After the initial shock of his cold body against hers, she was pleased that she was able to warm him just a little from the hold she had on him.

It did hurt at first, the intrusion of her body foreign, but he was gentle, with soft touches and quiet murmurs of adoration on his lips. As soon as it became less of an intrusion, she gave him the okay to keep moving. If he had lost himself in music before, it was nothing like what he was like when lost within her.

His arms trembled to keep him up right, his horrible face pressed against the pillow and into her neck, until his movements became less rhythmic and more frantic. She clutched to him, holding onto him for support and safety while feeling the most vulnerable she'd ever felt.

And then he shuddered above her, breath hot against her neck, her name a whisper on his lips, and collapsed beside her, breathless.

Christine ran her hands through his sparse hair, kissing the side of his head with the most love she'd ever felt. A smile graced her features and she was relieved when he gathered her into his arms. She lay her head against his still racing heart, feeling safe and content, things she hadn't felt in a very long time. Not since her father was with her.

"You are alright?" He asked in a weak voice.

She smiled against his cool chest. "Wonderful. You?"

He gave a choked laugh, his fingers threading through her soft hair. "I do not think there is a word for what I am feeling."

She gave his chest a small kiss, closing her eyes, gladly soaking up the bliss of this moment.

For a long time, they lay there, his hand in her hair, her resting against him, their limbs entangled together. As she dozed off, she felt him wrap around her, tightening his hold on her, enough for her to be aware of it but not too tight to rouse her.

During the night, she awoke, her body not used to sleeping with someone anymore, and she was surprised to find him still there, staring down at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

"You're not sleeping?" She asked, drowsily.

"I do not want to sleep," he answered softly, a hand caressing her face in the dark.

She leaned into his palm and shifted her body, pressing her naked form up against his. He sighed and the arm that was around her, pulled her flush up against him.

Again, he took her, this time going slower and giving her as much attention as she'd given him. They moved in the dark, the blankets around them, his hand in her hair, her clutching to him, her body entangled with his.

Her heart and soul, entangled with his.

When she was spent, she curled up against him, half asleep already with a smile on her face. He pressed a loving kiss to her forehead and held her closely to him.

"I love you, my dear, sweet Christine."

She wanted to reply, but the strong pull of sleep dragged her under before she could.