Sorry about not updating right away. I was feeling ill and didn't get on the computer yesterday. Alright, thanks for the kind reviews. I appreciate it more than you will ever know. Phantom might come off as kind of needy BUT if you've read the book you'll know that Erik is the groveling type. My Erik is such a mix you'll wonder what the hell is wrong with me. Now onto some Erik!

Claire climbed the stairs to the roof. She was no longer in control of her body. The note had held such a power over her that she didn't even seem to know what she was doing. No one would be on the roof this time of night, which Claire was thankful for.

"It was planned this way," she thought to herself. The ascent seemed to take ages. When she finally reached the door that would lead to the roof she stopped short. What if this was just some cruel joke? She would never forgive herself for being so foolish.

Anticipating fairly cold weather, she pulled her satin cloak around her shoulders and held it closed with her own two hands. The buttons that had once come up the front had long since fallen off. She refused to get rid of it because of its personal value to her. It was the only thing she had left to remind her of home.

Claire scolded herself for being so bold and adventurous. Strange notes left on her bed were not something to take lightly. Yet, she'd felt no malice or spite held in those simple words. They'd seemed hurried and anxious, but not dangerous.

She opened the door. As she had expected the air was bitter, the wind biting at her bare arms. Massive stone gargoyles towered above her and obscured her view. Claire turned back as the door snapped shut. It was silent now. She felt as if the statues were laughing at her, mocking her for being so bold. She walked out onto the immense and wide roof which seldom had people on it during the early spring. She didn't need to worry about being seen and questioned. Claire found her footsteps loud and awkward as she moved along the roof.

"Why am I such a fool?" she said aloud, "Any sane person would have known better."

"But my dear, you are quite sane," a low voice uttered. She stopped dead in her tracks. She hadn't even heard anyone moving behind her. She began to turn around.

"Don't turn around just yet," the voice commanded. She knew who it was, the Phantom. Her breath hitched in her throat. She didn't know whether to obey his command or turn and flee. She was at a cross road and was unsure of where to turn next.

"You wish for me to not turn around when you are the one who asked me to come here? That is foolish," She countered. Claire thought she recognized a familiar sigh, one she'd heard before, and then felt a hand on her shoulder.

"As you wish," he reluctantly said, and turned her around. He removed his hand from her shoulder as she completed her turn. He backed up a few feet. Now they were face to face for the first time. She had expected a hideous, deformed man, but instead was greeted by an entirely different sight. The left side of his face was covered with a white mask, endowed with all the ridges and parts a normal face would have minus the expression and depth. She could see the faint glow of an eye set way back in its socket. That was all that was visible of the left side. The right side of his face was so normal it was entirely a shock. He was a rather handsome man, even with the mask covering half of his face.

"Hello?" Claire ventured, taking a step forward. She realized what she did was foolish, letting her guard down because of his appearance. Mentally scolding herself, she retraced her step backwards. The man, whom had tensed up at her sudden movement, relaxed.

"So we finally meet?" he said in a voice barely audible, even in the quiet. Claire looked down at her feet, unsure of what was happening.

"Finally?" she asked. She looked at the man who hadn't taken his eyes off her once.

"Yes, my wanting to meet you has been a long time coming," he said matter-of-factly. He looked like a Phantom in his black suit and long, dark cape. His skin was a sickly pale, as if he hadn't seen the light of day in awhile. His appearance, however, was not what made Claire feel small and weak. It was his presence. The way he stood there so calmly with no emotion on his face. This all frightened her.

"I'm sure you already know the name that has been given to me around the Opera House, but allow me to introduce myself anyway. I am the Opera Ghost, the Phantom of the Opera. The name which I have given myself you will learn in time." More quickly then she could even fathom, she found the Phantom beside her. He towered above her, encasing her in his cold presence. Two strong arms wrapped around her body and pulled her close to him.

"So long I have longed to touch another human being like this," he said, lowering his head so his lips were once again directly beside her ear. His hands sensually ran down her front and then back up, receding just enough so when he passed over her breasts he barley touched them.

"You make me feel things I have never felt before Claire," he whispered, his voice a dangerously low pitch, "If you would just say the word I would be yours. A servant too your every whim. I've only just met you now but I already want you in so many ways. Be mine Claire, and you will never be lonely again." Claire melted under his touch. His gloved hands were warmed by her skin. She felt their bodies become one in that moment as his lips dared to graze the skin of her neck. She couldn't fight him; she was lost amongst their passion.

"Love me, that's all I ask of you," she heard the Phantom say and then the sound of the door opening brought her back to her senses. His warm body was gone now, replaced by reality.

"What are you doing up here Claire?" she heard Meg say, "My mother said she saw you come this way. Do you want to catch a cold and die?" Claire stared dreamily out at the city.

"Meg, I could die right now and I wouldn't even know it."