A/N: Yayness! I'm glad y'all liked it! Enjoy! I have so many things planned for this story! OOOOH, look who's POV it is!!! D Oh, and flashbacks are in italics like always! And I know NOTHING about Arizona… Goodness knows WHY I chose it as a setting! So I am terribly sorry if anything is off about it! :D And, yes, when Christine asks if Erik will play Don Juan, what he says may sound familiar! ;)

Erik's POV

My hands were still tingling from touching her. Her skin was so soft, so delicate. It was incredibly warm, and it contrasted greatly with the coldness of my hands. Drawing in a deep breath, I wanted more. I wanted to feel her milky skin again and again and again. It exhilarated me, filling me with utter ecstasy. Entering the Louise-Phillipe room, I sat down in front of the piano.

My slender fingers began to gracefully slide up and down the keys, as I closed my eyes, imagining her; I touched her – I was so close to her! She truly was an angel. I remembered the way she had sighed softly when my fingers had tenderly grazed her skin. I would never forget that moment… the way her cobalt eyes darted about the room, desperately searching for me – and yet I was standing right in front of her. But her eyes were not accustomed to the darkness, as mine were. They were the eyes of an angel – an angel who was only familiar with the light of Heaven…

Suddenly, my music became harsher, as my eyes snapped open. That damn boy! Damn that childish boy! Christine was finally growing used to this life, and that idiotic boy had to make an appearance! He had to ruin it all! The furious music raged throughout the room and most likely throughout the house… but my thoughts were fixated on him… Raoul, was it? And Christine, of course.

My thoughts were always centered on her.

Sighing, the anger of my music lessened, as I thought about the first time I saw her…

My eyes were fixated on the cobblestone street, as the night enshrouded me in its darkness. It was cold, of course, for it was winter – but the coldness never bothered me. My footsteps were the only solitary sound that echoed, as I stalked this street that lay in the city of Phoenix. God knows what possessed me to come here. Normally, I stayed in my mansion on the outskirts of the state, but tonight I was restless. Suddenly, my lonely footsteps were accompanied by a voice… a heavenly voice. I arched a brow and followed the lovely music, until I reached a small church. My breathing soft, I slinked around the walls of the building, finding a window that was closest to the stage of the church. A young woman stood on the stage, while an elderly man played the violin. Both were good. No, both were exquisite, but my attention wrapped itself around the girl. The more I examined her, the more I realized how young she was. She must've only been around sixteen or seventeen years old. Blonde ringlets hung from her head and framed her beautiful face, as her cheeks remained rosy. Her claret lips were open, as an unbelievably glorious sound escaped from them. She wore a long-sleeved, light blue blouse. She took a deep breath and continued to sing. Her voice was the voice of an angel – there was no doubt about it. It was perfect. Perfect pitch, perfect tone – she was perfect.

"Jesu, joy of man's desiring; Holy wisdom, love most bright…" She sang terrifically. It was almost painful to listen because it was so beautiful… She was so beautiful… "Drawn by Thee, our souls aspiring soar to uncreated light."

I closed my eyes for a moment, soaking in this feeling. Her voice soared through the air, caressing my ears.

"Word of God, our flesh that fashioned with the fire of life impassioned…" She took a breath, ending the song, "Striving still to truth unknown… soaring, dying round Thy throne!"

Then, she smiled. It was as if her smile lit the entire sanctuary. However, her eyes wandered to the window and widened, as I immediately retreated back into the darkness. Her azure eyes lingered where I had been for a moment, before returning her attention back to the congregation.

A man, whom I assumed to be the pastor, stood with a warm smile and embraced the girl, shaking hands with the elderly man. "Charles Daae and his daughter, Christine Daae." He said, motioning towards the performers. As the father and daughter took their seats, I slid away from the church.

"Christine…" I whispered the name as if it were a prayer. "Christine…"

My bittersweet song came to an end, as my hands merely rested soundlessly on the keys. Silent, I could hear soft breathing behind me.

"Do you need something, Christine?" I murmured, stroking a cord, before standing up and turning to meet her gaze.

"No." She whispered in reply, her voice still quivering. Her eyes were large, and they never left mine. "I was only listening."

There was a silence in the room. It wasn't a dreary silence, nor was it threatening or awkward – but it was a strange one nonetheless. It was a silence where numerous feelings were cascading through me, and I was restraining myself from moving or uttering a word.

"What is that?" Came her quiet inquiry.

It took me a moment before I realized that she was indicating the composition piece propped up on my piano.

"Don Juan Triumphant." I answered, my eyes roaming the piece. "It's my life's work."

"Will you play it for me, please?" Christine inquired, as she inched towards the piano, brushing her fingertips over my work.

Now standing behind her, I rested my hand over her wandering one. "I will play you anything you wish, but not this. My Don Juan burns, Christine, and it is not struck with fire from Heaven…" I whispered closely into her ear, my lips brushing against its lobe and evoking a shiver from her petite body.

I ultimately withdrew myself from her, hearing her finally breathe again.

"Are you hungry, Christine?" I asked when she turned around to face me.

"No, thank you." She answered with a shake of her head and a smile. She averted her eyes elsewhere before returning her gaze to me once more. After quick hesitation, she flashed a small smile. "I'll be in my room."

Nodding, I watched, as she sauntered from the room and upstairs. Before she had left, the look on her face was engraved with perplexity – but behind the confusion, she had appeared entranced… intoxicated.

Returning to the piano, my twisted lips curled slightly upwards.

The next day, after Christine had listened to a music piece I had played for her (this was now becoming a daily routine), my eyes never left her form, while she disappeared into her room. Lifting an eyebrow, I mentally noted that she did not close the door.

Extremely silent, I made my way upstairs and peered inside, unbeknownst to her. She had turned on her television once more, pausing for a brief second on the news. The reporter's monotone voice was quickly cut off, as Christine changed the channel. I suddenly heard tango music. Watching the television, I saw the couple gliding about the dance floor. My eyes traveled to her face, which was glowing with interest. I smiled at this and slowly ambled into her room, after knocking gently on her door.

Surprise overtook her, as her blonde head rapidly turned to look at me.

"It's a beautiful dance…" Christine explained cheerfully, nodding towards the television.

"It is." I agreed with a tender smile.

Tilting my head, I began to leave the room, motioning for her to follow me. I led her into the grand foyer, turning on a stereo. "Would you like me to teach you?" I asked gently, offering her my hand

She laughed softly. "If you can."

As her tiny hand slipped into mine, I pulled her closer to me. "All right," I instructed calmly. "When I pull you into me, you must make sure your feet do not tangle with one another. I wouldn't want you to twist your ankle, my dear."

Turning on her ankle, she lost her balance and fell backwards. I swiftly caught her, as she tried to suppress a giggle. "Sorry…" She apologized and her cheeks grew warm, as I helped her stand up straight. I knew this would take quite some time.

But it didn't bother me. Anything that involved Christine being this close to me was exquisite.

After about two hours of instructing, Christine had finally accomplished the dance, with the exception of the ending.

"Now," I began gently. "I dip you back, but not to worry, I won't drop you." I told her with a smile. With my arms around her waist, I slowly lowered her, as the tip of her hair brushed against the floor.

With my free hand, I took her arms and placed them around my neck. Taking her leg, I began to gently pull it up towards my waist. I heard a barely audible gasp. "Then, you must bring your leg up around my waist –" but I immediately stopped. Quickly bringing her back up, I took a step back. "I'm sorry, Christine. I didn't wish to make you uncomfortable in any way."

"No… no, it really is fine, Erik." She sputtered, her face flushed and her eyes half open. "I'm fine." She said softly.

"You did an excellent job." I quietly turned off the music, glancing back at her.

"Thank you." She whispered breathlessly. "I had an excellent teacher." She blushed and glanced about the room; after a pause, she presented me with a shy smile. "It is rather late. I guess I should be heading off to bed now…"

Shuffling up the stairs, her steps came to an abrupt halt, as she looked down at me. "Goodnight, Erik."

"Goodnight, Christine."

And then, I started a fire, for the memories of that night still lingered in my thoughts and left me restless.

A/N: hehe! That tango will be quite important later on... (Grins) R&R!