A/N:  I think FFD (and my computer) are back to behaving once more, so I am now reloading this chapter, so it will be without it former defects in the print.  Thank you, once again, to all those who have reviewed and given me their comments and concerns.  ^_*

Riene:  Beauty and the Beast?  Well, the similarities were unintended, I assure you, as were the random periods in the middles of the sentences.  My computer (or FFD) has been acting weird recently, and it turned all of my …'s into just .'s.  My apologies.  Also, I know quite a few people don't appreciate the teardrop thing on the masks, but I thought it was interesting (and I've got some rather artistically-inclined habits).  As for his wardrobe, blame it on the Charles Dance version.   So, now that's I've made my excuses…  ^_*  Thank you for your remarks on this.  PS Write a phan phic!  I would read it!!!

Rowin:  'Ma petite' – 'mon petite'.  All right, my excuse here is not wanting to mess up on that.  Originally, I had it as 'ma', but then I changed it just in case I was wrong.  Your comment regarding this is not picky at all; I asked for people to correct me when I had made an error.  So thank you.

Disclaimer:  Don't own Phantom.  'Nuff said.

Chapter Twenty –

Make Your Choice

Erik narrates…

I went to my room and changed out of my costume, replacing it with the finest formal opera garb that I possessed.  Tonight, as I had told Christine, it would be the end. 

The end of it all.

Tonight had seen the reappearance of the Phantom of the Opera, the ruination of a plot on my life, and the abduction of Christine Daae.  Of course, the 'attempted' murder of Ubaldo Piangi had caused the formation of a vengeful mob that was now running the expanse of the labyrinth, seeking to find the Phantom and wreak vengeance upon him.  Killing Piangi had not been my intention.  If it had, I could have ended his life within a split second.  No, that time, the use of the Punjab lasso had merely been to serve as a way to keep him from entering the stage – to allow me to take his place. 

But Nadir would see it differently.  There was no doubt in my mind that he had come to the premier of 'Don Juan' that night, and that he now believed me to be a madman, a maniacal murderer who had once more abducted his beautiful victim with nothing but blood on his mind.

I won't lie – I did have blood on my mind.

But not Christine's.

Nadir would be arrive any time now, leading Raoul who would, of course, attempt to rescue Christine from my clutches. 

"Well," I said, as I took up my hat in one hand and smiled darkly, morbidly to myself, "He's about to learn just how powerful the Phantom of the Opera is."

I left my room and went upstairs, to the lair's second floor, to Christine's rooms.  After I had knocked softly on the door, I heard the gentle rustle of tulle skirts and the soft tap of delicate slippers upon the floor within the room, and then the door opened, revealing Christine as she stood just inside of it, looking up at me with her beautiful, sparkling gemstones of eyes.  She wore the bride's gown.

She was so beautiful.

Her pale, silky skin seemed to glow like moonlight, set off by the gown's pure whiteness, and the curls of her glorious, thick, dark hair framed her perfect face.  Her eyes, however, were wide and dark.  She looked fearful and even a bit angry.

"Beauty is dressed as a bride…is she ready to greet her Beast?" I asked, mockingly naming the symbolism of our relationship.  She held her hands out to me, pleadingly.  "Erik, please," she said, and tears were in her voice, "What are you doing?  What dark design do you have for tonight?  Isn't it enough that we are here – must you carry through with whatever revenge you desire to have now?"

"Yes." I growled.  I crooked my arm, offering it to her, and she took it after a moment's pause, intertwining her arm with mine.  I closed the door to her room behind us and then escorted her into the organ room, leaving her at its center as I crossed the room to the organ, where the manuscript for 'All I Ask Of You', struck from the 'Don Juan' libretto, lay scattered about.

"It's too late to go back now, Christine." I said then, rearranging the papers.  I looked up at her as I continued. "This time, the Vicomte will learn that he cannot cross me – he cannot plot against me, and he cannot win.  I am all-powerful, in this place: my domain, and tonight will see one person's defeat – his."

"Why must you defeat him?"

She shook her head at me, her eyes sparkling with tears.  I felt a second's remorse, but would not let her see.

"Because, Christine." I said. 

I turned and went to the ornate black throne that stood nearby, across from the organ, and picked up, in both of my hands, the trailing, ethereal swath of white tulle and lace that had been placed there.  Moving towards her slowly, making full eye contact with her, I continued.

"Because, for all of my life, I have lived with the knowledge that the world hates me for my face.  Because people like the Vicomte de Chagny are the people who have made me afraid to live.  Tonight, I will destroy him, and the world will learn that it must either subject itself to letting me live, as a person and a man, or prepare itself for the consequences thereof."

I was standing directly in front of her now, and I placed the object in my hands – the veil that accompanied the bride's gown that she wore – on her head.  Its shimmering whiteness cascaded down her hair, pooling with the skirts of the gown, and I gazed at her, unable to take my eyes away from her.  This was what I wanted, all I ever desired.

"Erik…"

The word came out as a sob. 

I couldn't stand it.  My revenge was something that I had to do…but it was hurting Christine.  She didn't understand…but I couldn't stop now.  This had to be done.  It was for her, in the end of all things!  If I took my revenge on Raoul and whoever else followed him, she would no longer be rejected as nothing by the world. 

We would both be free of the reality that we were so alien to.

"Christine." I said, and went to her. 

Hesitantly, scarcely even daring to touch her, I cupped my hand under her perfect chin and raised her face so that she had to look into my eyes.  I let my gaze rove across her face, as I tried to comprehend the fleeting emotions that flickered upon it, like teasing midnight shadows.  "Christine…" I breathed, softly. "Can't you see…?  I am doing this for you."

"You would kill…for me?" she asked, looking up at me through her tears. 

Then she reached up and removed my mask, so that it no longer stood behind us.  I had already let her do this once tonight – what was one more time, and what did wearing it in her presence even mean anymore?  She didn't care, even if I, and the world, did.  I looked at her, and the sight of her sadness drove a dagger through my heart.  I turned my gaze away, closing my eyes.  We were facing each other now as we had the other times before, and I wore no mask.  I was truly bared to her.

"Erik, there is no need for this.  Forget them…let it go."

"I can't." I whispered. 

Suddenly, I heard the smallest of sounds from behind us and I whirled around: stepping back, away from Christine, and gestured towards the portcullis, smiling a smile that I knew was cruel. 

"Wait." I hissed. "I think, my dear, that we have a guest!"

And then I took another step backwards, allowing her to see that Nadir Khan and Raoul had both just emerged, dripping wet, from the lake outside of the portcullis.  They, having no boat, had swum here, and now stood beyond us, staring into the room. 

"Sir, this is indeed an unparalleled pleasure!" I said, approaching the portcullis, standing before it and looking at Raoul straight in the eye, so that he saw my face at a close range.  He wouldn't even look at me.  "I had rather hoped that you would come…and now, my wish comes to pass!  You have truly made my night!"

Raoul threw himself against the black iron gate, and railed at me, pleading, "Free her!  Do what you like – only free her!  Have you no pity?"

I turned to Christine, a smirk twisting my mangled lips, and said, dryly and dispassionately, "Your lover makes a passionate plea!"

Christine shook her head at Raoul, and suddenly I felt her warmth at my side, felt her fingers brushing at my hand as if she wished to hold it, and I nearly fainted with shock that she could stand to be so close to me.  "Please, Raoul, it's useless—" she began, but the Vicomte cut her off, exclaiming melodramatically at me, "I love her!  Does that mean nothing? I love her!  Show some compassion—"

Then it was my turn to cut him off.

Compassion?  Ha!  I know no such thing!

I stepped forward, motioning Christine to stay back, behind me, and snarled furiously at him, "The world showed no compassion to me!"

But Raoul ignored me, putting his hands, instead, through the portcullis, reaching them out towards Christine as he said, desperately, "Christine…my love, Christine…" Then he looked at me, ceasing to be a whining little sap of a boy for one moment and letting the calm, rational man whom he was supposed to be show through. 

"Let me see her…" he said, firmly.

I swept a bow to him, growling, "Please, be my guests, messieurs…"

Leaving Christine behind me, making a motion for her to remain where she was, I went to the side of the room and pulled down on one of the branches of the candelabra that was nearest to the portcullis, which instantly began to rise as soon as I had done so.  I took my place in front of Christine again, folding my arms across my chest as the dripping portcullis came up and a very wary Raoul and Nadir Khan entered the room, both watching me as if I was a tiger who had a mind to spring.

Very good, gentlemen… I thought, darkly, before I addressed them both in a carefully controlled, soft voice that spoke volumes of my peaceful intent.

"Messieurs, I bid you welcome!  Did you think that I would harm her?  Why should I make her pay for the sins which are yours?"

The last three words that I said came out as a snarl, and I moved so quickly that Nadir was still fumbling with the catch on his pistol when I caught Raoul deftly around the neck with the Punjab lasso.  I had never actually killed anyone in the Opéra with that weapon, but now I was perfectly prepared to do just that.  I threw the end of the rope up into the air, and the hook on the end of it caught onto one of the lower rafter beams in the ceiling, nearly taking the Vicomte off of his feet.  His hands went up to his neck, scrabbling at the rope, but it would do no good.  He was trapped, and I was his captor.

I whirled to face Nadir then, bringing out my own loaded and cocked pistol and aiming it directly between his dark eyes. 

"Make a single move, Daroga," I told him, coldly, "And you're next." 

I gestured at him to drop his weapon.  He remained where he was for a moment, frozen with shock, I suppose, and then he moved, slowly, and placed his pistol on the floor, his eyes never leaving me.  I moved my hand, indicating with my own pistol that he should take a seat near the portcullis's edge.  Then I placed his weapon out of reach and paced in front of Raoul and smiled malignantly, coldly, at him.

"So now you see it, Monsieur le Vicomte – your plans were always destined to fail, no matter how hard you tried to keep them from me.  And was it all because of your own blundering idiocy?  Oh, most assuredly yes.  And now, nothing in this world stands to save you – except for, perhaps, Christine!"

I rounded on her then, eyes blazing, pistol still aimed at both Raoul and Nadir, and gave her my ultimatum.

"Start a new life with me!" I told her. "Buy his freedom with your love!  Refuse me, and you will send this boy to his death!  This is your choice – this is the point of no return!"

She gazed at me for a long moment then, and I saw that something had changed in her eyes.  They became hard and cold, and I shuddered inwardly, as if the look that she now wore had just given me a physical blow.  My hand trembled a bit.

"No, Erik." she said, her voice low and hard and icy.

There it was.  If I killed Raoul, if I killed these men, she would refuse me.  So be it.  She could hate me forever, she could refuse and fight back all that she wanted to, but she would be mine.  She could not escape me now – no one could.  I was in control, and none of them would leave this place alive before I had what I now so desperately wanted. 

Let her hate me, but she would be mine!

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Christine narrates…

As soon as Erik had given me my choice, I knew that he had finally gone too far.  I didn't love Raoul, and I would never marry him, but if Erik planned to kill both of these men, no matter who they were, because of his blind desire to have me – me, of all people – I could never love him nor marry him either.  This was not the Angel that I had known, this man standing before me, threatening to kill two men in order to win my heart and hand.  This was not the Angel, this wasn't Erik.

A horrific cacophony started up then.  Raoul pleaded desperately to me, "Christine, forgive me, please forgive me – I did it all for you, and all for nothing…"

But I was looking at Erik, gazing at him but speaking to myself and no one else, "Farewell, my fallen idol and false friend!  One by one I've watched illusions shattered…"

Erik heard my words and said, his voice breaking in and drowning everything else out, "You're past all hope of cries for help: there's no point in fighting, ma petite, for either way you choose, you cannot win!  So now, tell me – will you end your days with me, or will you send him to his grave?"

"Why make her lie to you, to save me?" Raoul asked him.

Angel of Music…

"You're past the point of no return, little one…"

"For pity's sake, Christine, say no!"

Why this torment?

"The final threshold…"

"Don't throw your life away for my sake!"

When will you see the truth…?

"His life is now the prize which you must earn!"

"I fought so hard to free you!"

Angel of Music…

"There's no way out – you cannot go back now!"

I looked at Erik again, or rather, at his feet, withdrawing inwards to myself.  I would not let him make himself into a murderer by killing Raoul and this other man.  How long had I strived to find a way to save him – and how many precious seconds had it taken for him to put me in this position, to come up with this impossible choice?  I wouldn't let him do this to himself.  How could I tell him now that he didn't need to threaten to kill Raoul in order to gain the answer that he wished?

How could I tell him that…

Suddenly, Erik was standing right in front of me, his hand moving to hold my arm in a cold, viselike grip. 

"You try my patience – make your choice!" he snarled. 

And in the moment that followed those words, I looked up into his mismatched, crystalline eyes and saw how icy and hard they were.  As I looked beyond that outward appearance, however, I glimpsed the emotions inside: fear, doubt, pain, and incredible loneliness.

My heart began to shatter.

There was only one thing I could do. 

I have shown you that your face could not frighten me, or make me repulse you…I have obeyed you and listened to your teachings…I have been through this world and back, having stayed at your side and kept you in my heart, and now I know…

I was quiet for a few seconds longer, and then I moved slowly, with resolution, towards him, looking into his poor, distorted face. 

"Erik…" I said, whispering so that only he could hear, but the emotion in my voice grew as I continued. "Please…listen to me.  Listen to me now, if you ever do.  My wonderful Erik…no matter what the world says, and no matter what you tell yourself, you are nothing but a perfect, beautiful angel.  You always were!"

He had backed away from me, staring at me with dark, wary eyes, as if he thought that I would somehow give him even greater pain than he had already known.  I continued to walk towards him, reaching out a hand to him as he asked, growling the words, "How can you say that?  Don't you see any of this?"

"I see it." I replied, gently. "But you won't kill them…I know your heart.  I've seen it, and I trust in it.  My poor Erik, my dark Angel…what kind of life have you known?  I would give anything to make you see all that you really are…but…all I can give you now…is this."

Now calmly facing him, I reached out, closing my fingers around his black satin jacket lapels, and pulled him close to me.  Then, after I had gazed into his disbelieving eyes for exactly one split second, I put my hands on both sides of his face – my palms coming into contact with the rough, disfigured skin of his right cheek – and drew his head down to my level, finding his lips with mine.

And then I kissed him.

He writhed in my arms, seeming almost as if he was convulsing, but I held on to him.  My first kiss that I gave to him was short and simple.  I pulled back and flung my arms about him, crushing us against one another, and held him.  I saw, from the meager view that my only barely opened eyes gave to me, that his arms were frozen out from his sides, hovering about me.  He didn't know how to react to a kiss, I realized, and pity flooded my heart.  Then pity changed into something more – something much deeper.

Passion.

Everything within me surging with this new emotion, I placed my hands on his arms, gripping them tightly and ardently, and kissed him on the lips again. 

Suddenly, as if something had just clicked within his head, the bolts falling into place and beginning to work, he closed his arms about me, locking me in their warm, powerful strength.  He was kissing me back then: passionately, deeply, almost frenzied, his lips caressing mine, melding around them powerfully, sweetly, possessively.  Our kiss became longer, fuller, going on for a seeming lifetime.  I reached up and twined my hands about his neck, running them through his silky, thick, golden-brown hair, feeling as if fireworks were going off inside of my head. 

Still, our embrace went on.

Finally, abruptly, we broke away from one another and pulled back, but only enough to leave about an inch between each other's faces.  He was staring, blankly, into the space between us, as if he didn't even see me.  He was stiff and trembling, leaning into me.  I felt breathless and lightheaded myself.  Such were the effects of our kiss.  I watched him close his eyes, and then his head dropped so that our foreheads were resting against one another. 

The lair was completely silent for a long, long moment.

Then, suddenly, he stepped away from me, a numb, guilt-ridden expression on his face.  I gazed at him, thousands of questions springing to my lips, and watched as he raised his eyes to mine once again.  I saw something knowing and resigned and calm in his gaze then, and it made my own heart twist with a sickening feeling.  He crossed the room to Raoul, whose face was becoming quite ashen with his lack of air.

"Erik—" I began, starting towards him.

He flung out a hand, telling me wordlessly to be still and remain where I was.  Then, he took a lighted candle from one of the candelabras.   The suspended rope fell harmlessly – he had burned the thread by which the noose was held. 

Raoul dropped to the floor, holding his throat, choking and coughing.  Out of mere regard for his well being, I went to him and helped him to his feet. 

Erik had returned to stand beside his throne, meanwhile, and as we looked at him, he addressed Raoul.  I didn't know what he was looking at so intently until I heard a distant roaring sound, which separated from a dim buzz into separate voices and finally words.

"Track down the murderer – find him!" "Hunt out the animal!" "He's preyed on us too long!  The Phantom of the Opera is here!  Find him!" "Revenge for Piangi!  Revenge for Buquet!  The creature must never go free!"

The mob.

Oh no.  They were coming for Erik.

Coming suddenly to life, he whirled around to face us, his face and eyes dark and tainted with fear and worry.  He gestured to Raoul, saying abstractedly, "Take her – forget me, forget all of this – leave me alone – forget all you've seen!"

He stiffly waved us off, towards a doorway that Nadir Khan, who had stood as soon as we had heard the mob coming, opened.  Erik came behind us, staring after us with his haunted, grief-filled eyes.  I stopped dead in my tracks, paralyzed with horror as soon as I had realized what he wanted us to do…what he was asking me to do.

"Go now – don't let them find you!" he told us. "Take the boat – leave me here – go now, don't wait!"

He stood back, arms dropping limply, helplessly, to his sides, saying softly, "Just take her and go – before it's too late…  Go…"

The volume and intensity of his beautiful voice rose then from a small murmur to a wild, unrestrained shriek, and he almost literally chased us out of the lair, standing in the doorway that led out of it, screaming after us—

"Go now – GO NOW AND LEAVE ME!"

Those last two words echoed in the corridor behind us as we fled down it, Raoul pulling me after him by the hand.  I looked back, my entire being twisting with a sick, deadening feeling, for I knew that Erik, the Phantom of the Opera and my Angel, would not be coming with us.  He would stay, and the mob would find him. 

The last thing that I saw of him was his slow progress back to the veil that had fallen from my head during our passionate, world-ending kiss…and then him picking it up and gathering it gently into his slender, long, pale musician's hands.

Erik. 

Nadir Khan reached the boat first and was untying it from the dock before Raoul and I had even come out of the passageway.  "Come, hurry!" he said, urgently, obviously wanting to make an escape.

"Christine, hurry – come away now!" Raoul said to me, breathlessly, trying to pull me to the boat as I halted dead in my tracks.  He stopped then as well, staring at me incredulously, as if he thought that I had lost my mind.  "Christine?"  

Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime…let me lead you from your solitude…  Share each day with me, each night – each morning…

I looked back towards the lair.

Far from us, I heard the sounds of the approaching mob.  They were getting closer.  But then I heard another sound: this one, from down the dark corridor that led to the Phantom's lair.  It was the sound of someone sobbing. 

Then, and only then, did I know – truly know.

I turned to Raoul, smiling softly, and went to him.  I put my arms around him and kissed him gently on the cheek, then pulled back and gazed at him.

"Thank you."

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Erik resumes the narrative…

She was gone.

My angel – the woman who had saved me from becoming a monster, from my hate, and from myself – was gone.   I had given her up, after she had shown me, for the first time in my life, what true love was.  No other woman had ever loved me as she had, in those few, precious moments of the kiss that we had shared.  She had shown me, for the first time in my life, that I had the capability to love.

Truly love.

But now she was gone.

I watched as she, the Vicomte, and Nadir ran to the boat.  I couldn't look on then.  I didn't want to see her go – to see her leave me forever.  The mob was getting closer now; I could hear them as they ran nearer and nearer to the lair.  It wouldn't be long before it was all over.  Before it was truly the end.

Feeling curiously calm and resigned to my imminent death, but placed in eternal turmoil because of the loss of the only woman whom I had ever loved, I turned away from the door and looked back into the still, quiet organ room.  The flames on the candles in the candelabras flickered and burned steadily, warmly, and the inky shadows around me were thick and solemn.  Everything was as it had been before.

She had left her veil on the floor.

I went to pick it up, gathering it into my trembling hands and then folding it to my chest, holding it within my arms as if it was her.  It still had her scent on it – her sweet, rosy, beautiful scent.  I inhaled it with every breath that I took.

Christine, I loved you…

I had known that I loved her before, that I wanted her with me as my own, that I wanted to have her love me as well…but I hadn't known the true love that I had for her. 

Not until now, when it was too late, when I couldn't tell her. 

That thought made me break down – that thought, and the noise of the boat as it was poled swiftly away through the black waters of the lake beneath the opera house.  They were leaving now, passing through the mist and the darkness, drawing ever nearer to the surface and the light.

While I would remain here, in the underworld.

Alone.

I buried my bare face in the veil, letting my tears finally come.  Christine hadn't known, but I had cried as she had kissed me.  Now I was making no secret of it.  My sobs were deep and heart-broken, for that was what I was.  I had proved that I was no monster, but a man, in releasing them all, in refusing to take my revenge. 

But it had cost me Christine.

"Christine…" I wept. "Christine!"

Through my tears then, I began to sing her song – 'All I Ask Of You'.  I had never told her that it was her song, and in my hopelessness following the months that we had spent apart after 'Il Muto', I had changed the plot of 'Don Juan Triumphant', so that its ending no longer featured that song…or a happy ending.  But it was her song.  It was only hers.

Say you'll share with me one love,
One lifetime…
Say the word and I will follow you…
Share each day with me,
Each night, each morning…

I heard the gentle rustle of tulle skirts and the soft tap of delicate slippers upon the floor, drawing near to me.  It's a wraith of your own mind, it's because you want her back now, just ignore it and it will go away, it's just a wraith…

And then…

No more talk of darkness – 
Forget these wide-eyed fears…
I'm here:
Nothing can harm you,
My words will warm and calm you…
Let me be your freedom,
Let daylight dry your tears…
I'm here:
With you, beside you,
To guard you and to guide you…

That perfect voice sang to me.  I felt as if my mind was exploding.  Barely daring to believe it, I remained paralyzed where I was for a moment, and then I whirled around with dizzying speed, wanting to catch this wraith of my imagination before she left me again. 

But no. 

She was there, standing in the doorway of the corridor that led to the dock: her white bride's gown sprayed out around her like a misty cloud, her hair lying long and full and dark upon her pure, white skin, her eyes shining like the sun, sweet red lips curved in the gentlest of smiles, arms at her sides.

"I couldn't ever leave you," she said.

Oh wonders!

Choking on a sob of pure, incredulous joy, I went forward and met her across the room in two strides.  Christine flung herself into my arms and I stumbled back, taking the both of us with me, benumbed with the shock of her return and almost too incredulous to believe that what I was seeing was reality.  I held her for a speechless moment, then asked, softly, "Is this true?  Can you be real?  Are you really here…?"

"Of course I'm here!  And I'll never leave!" she swore to me, and suddenly I knew that I wasn't dreaming or hallucinating – she was real.  She was here.  She had come back.  Christine had come back.  She was here.

"You…came back!" was all I could say through my tears of joy.

She was crying too, and laughing all at the same time, placing her tiny hands on either side of my face, smiling brilliantly up at me, her eyes alight.

"I love you, Erik – do you hear me?  I love you!  I always have, and I always will!  Oh, my precious Angel!"

I almost fainted.  Not only had she just given me the first real kiss of my life – she also loved me!

"Christine…" I breathed, overcome with happiness. "I love you too."

She pulled me close to her, so that I could see each fine detail of her face: each curve and contour, each tinge of delicate colour, each beautiful feature.  Every dream that I had ever dreamed had just come true.  She was here, with me, and she loved me.  I swept her up in my arms, cherishing the feeling of her slender, perfect form against me, and closed my eyes, savoring the moment.  If only this could go on forever.

I suppose that now it can.

"Christine…" I said to her, and then I began to sing.  Outside of the lair, beyond the lake, I caught a glimpse of many flaming torches and heard the rush of the crazed mob…but then it came to a halt, a complete standstill, as the song began.

Say you love me every waking moment – 
Turn my head with talk of summertime…
Say you need me with you, now and always…
Promise me that all you say is true –
Christine, that's all I ask of you!

She smiled into my eyes and sang to me then.

Let me be your shelter,
Let me be your light –
You're safe:
No one will find you,
Your fears are far behind you!

When she left off, I began again.

All I want is freedom – 
A world with no more night!
And you,
Always beside me,
To hold me and to hide me!

She sang once more, alone.

Then say you'll share with me one love,
One lifetime…
Let me lead you from your solitude…
Say you want me

With you, here, beside you…
Anywhere you go, let me go too…
That's all I ask of you…

And then, raising our voices in a harmony so perfect, so pure, that it rivaled the glory of the morning sun, we finished the song together, wrapped up in one another's arms, gazing into each other's eyes, sharing a happiness that was most beautiful because it was founded on true love.

Say you'll share with me one love,
One lifetime –
Say the word and I will follow you…
Share each day with me,
Each night, each morning…

Say you love me…

You know I do…

 Love me, that's all I ask of you!

Anywhere you go, let me go too…

Love me, that's all I ask of you…

I looked down at her, as she rested her head against my chest, and gently kissed the top of her head before tilting her chin up so that I could see her face.

"Marry me?" I whispered into her hair.

She turned her head around to look up at me, and in her eyes, I saw the only answer that I would ever need to that question.

To anything.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

A/N:  Now to the epilogue, at last…