Disclaimer: I own nothin'. And about the really lovely poem in the beginning… If anyone knows where that's from… it would be nice because I have no idea. ^-^ Merci.

Chapter 2

"And we, too . . .

Will it not be soft, and kind?

That rest from life, from patience, and from pain?

That rest from bliss, we know not when we find.

How can I have enough of life and love?" – Anonymous

The next morning I awoke, my head was aching intolerably. Sitting up, I groaned. It had all been a dream… It must have been. With a heavy heart, I commenced to get dressed. Donning my usual black suit, I clasped my porcelain mask. My gaze traveled to a shattered mirror that was carelessly positioned on the floor in the corner of the room. Numerous reflections of myself from the worthless mirror stared back at me. My red lips were twisted, and my so-called "cheeks" were uneven.

Turning away, I slipped on the mask, unable to even gape at my reflection. Sighing heavily, I exited my room, my steps coming to an abrupt halt. My home. It was not demolished. My music scores were neatly piled upon the pipe organ and everything was where it should be. The furniture was still in one piece and there were no debris lying haphazardly about on the floor.

My eyes could not help but to glance in the direction of her room… The door was shut, as always. Apprehensively, I rested my hand on the golden colored doorknob. I opened the door with great vacillation. I caught my breath as my gaze befell the most astonishing thing I had ever seen: Christine. Content, she slept soundly. Her breaths evenly fled from her parted rose red lips, as her curly hair was sprawled about her pillow. The blanket came up to about her waist, as her arm hung off of the bed.

Rapidly, yet gently, I shut the door, my heart racing. It was not a dream! It was real. Lighting a fire, I sat before the fireplace. The flames dancing energetically reflected in my mismatched eyes as I stared blankly before me. How could this be possible? I was not unhappy… only bewildered. The woman's voice echoed in my head.

'Four days, Erik…'

Four days of complete bliss…

'Four days of Christine's devoted love…'

Four days of a joy I had never known…

'Treat her well…For when the sun sets on the fourth day…'

I closed my eyes. I did not want to think of what would happen in the end… I only craved to think of the current moment… to think of the extraordinary blossom resting in the room next to me.

"Good morning, Erik." Came a soft voice.

I turned my head, discovering what I hoped for. There stood Christine. She wore a silk robe over her nightgown, and her chocolate brown hair was slightly tousled from her recent sleep. My lips curled into a smile as she sat down beside me.

"Erik? Are you all right?" She questioned gleefully, "You look as if you've seen a ghost!"

Slowly, I nodded, pushing a curl out of her face. "Yes, mon ange, I am quite fine…"

How ironic she should mention a ghost. I had indeed seen a ghost… a haunting, exquisite ghost of my past. Christine snuggled beside, as I caressed her cheek with my hand. Lifting her chin with my slender finger, I stared at her for a moment.

"Is it really you?" I inquired, my warm breath passing over her face.

"Of course, it's me, Erik!" She exclaimed, smiling. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Releasing her chin, I shrugged lightly. "No reason." I simply answered, embracing her tightly.

Then, I took a dangerous risk. I dared to do what I had dreamt of for so long. Leaning my head down, I pressed a fervent kiss to her lips. I somewhat expected her cheeks to become a deep red, or Christine to hurriedly dash from the room; however, my expectations were exclusively inaccurate. Instead, she smiled. She actually smiled! When I released her lips, she replied with a tender kiss in return.

Standing up, she spoke delicately. "I suppose I need to take a bath, Erik. I'll be out soon."

My eyes followed her until the door to her room gently shut. Jumping up, I ran my hand through my raven black hair, my eyes shimmering.

Four days…