Chapter 8: A Wish Fulfilled

Erik slammed his fist down onto the organ keyboard. Even above the arising cacophony of noise, one thought screamed out to him: he had been stupid.

"She had come back to me," he whispered to himself, sinking down into his chair. "She was mine again..."

He stared out blankly into space, the thoughts continuing to well up inside of him, the despair continuing to mount. He was trying not to cry. But the technique of staring off into space only works if you don't blink.

Erik blinked.

Tears began to roll silently down his cheeks. The pain was too much. He had had her and he had lost her. Again. Was he only meant to suffer during his wretched life? When would the pain finally end?

Erik folded his arms in front of him and laid his head down on his hands. The tears were coming faster now and he was close to sobbing.

"Shhhhh..." A comforting voice said, placing cool fingertips on his cheek.. "Shhh. It's going to be all right."

He lifted his head. His face was hot and tear-streaked. His vision was blurred, but he knew who would be standing there when he turned his head.

"Christine?" he whispered.

"You always did have a sensitive side..." Christine said lightly, taking a handkerchief and dabbing it softly at the corners of his eyes. "There you go."

"You..." he could barely say it. "You came back?"

He turned his head fully this time and looked into her eyes. She looked back at him, unwavering, determined.

"I had to."

Erik gazed at her, tracing over her features with his eyes. She was really here. He almost couldn't believe it.

Her eyes became soft. She put a hand to his cheek. What was she thinking? It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Thoughts weren't even an option here.

Christine leaned forward and kissed Erik gently on the lips. She felt him take a quick intake of air. She could tell he longed to deepen the kiss, but he was holding himself back.

She pulled away and stepped back. She watched him. He was dazed and a little confused, she thought. She'd let him regroup and see what his next move was.

Erik took in a few slow breaths. In. Out. In. Out. This was the second time she had willingly kissed him. The first time he had doubted that it had even happened. He had been so hazed over with anger at her leaving him that he thought maybe, in his madness, he had imagined it. That some sympathizing angel had granted him a beautiful daydream to sustain him throughout the lonely nights.

But not this kiss. This time he knew it was real.

But...why?

"Christine," he said, rising from his chair. "Oh, Christine..."

He stepped forward boldly and reached his arms out to her. She looked at him, unsure. He felt a pain in his heart seeing her looking like that. Looking at him as if he were an unstable madman. Looking at him as if she were contemplating running away.

And who could blame her? The pain crushed his heart a little more. Who could blame her after the way he had behaved?

"Christine..." he started, taking a tentative step closer. He bowed his head. "Christine, I'm so sorry."

Christine looked at him, looking so ashamed and hurt, and felt her own heart reach out to him. A thick cloud of emotions swirled around her and something caught in her throat. He apologized for his behaviour. And he meant it. She almost felt like crying herself.

She reached out to him and pulled him the final step closer, wrapping her arms around him and inviting him to lay his weary head down upon her bosom. Poor Erik. Poor love-depraved Erik. He needed her. Needed her love.

Almost as much as she needed his.

"Well," Christine admitted, blushing slightly, "your actions earlier weren't entirely un-welcomed..."

Erik's head snapped upright. Had she said what he thought she'd said? One look into her eyes was all the answer he needed.

Without another word, they began to kiss. At first Erik barely touched her, but she pressed her body closely against him and he welcomed the warmth. He held her more tightly to him as the passion began to grow.

He left her lips for a moment and delivered tender kisses along her jawline, making his way down her neck. Christine ran her fingers through his hair as he did wonderful things to the hollow of her neck and traveled downward even further. She tipped her head back and moaned with pleasure as he teased her with his tongue through the fabric of her dress. Where had he learned all this? She could barely breathe.

Erik captured her lips once more, using his hands to take over for his tongue and continued to caress her chest with utmost care. He wouldn't let her down this time. He wouldn't lose her again. Not this time.

Christine nibbled on his lower lip, tasting his salty flavour. He parted his lips, silently begging for more, and she was more than happy to give in to the temptation. Her tongue slid gracefully between his lips and was met with his. She explored him fully, but it wasn't enough. They both knew that.

Erik was the first to pull back.

"Christine..."

His eyes asked the question. Christine nodded in agreement.

Erik lifted her up into his arms. As if he were a groom carrying his new bride across the threshold, he made his way to the bed. His heart pounded nervously in his chest as he lay her down on the bed. He had dreamed of this moment for so long. It had to be perfect.

He reached to dim the lamp. Christine's hand stopped him. He looked at her, confused.

"Leave it on," she said breathlessly.

"But..." he paused trying to find the words. "My face..."

"Your face doesn't bother me," she said. "You know that."

"But with the light off... You can pretend I'm someone else."

"Exactly," Christine whispered, giving him a knowing look. "It's not 'someone else' I want right now. It's you. All of you. That includes your face."

Erik pushed all of his doubts and fears out of his mind. This was it.

He made short work of his shirt and crawled onto the bed, ready and willing to help Christine with her dress. He unbuttoned it and pulled it down. He was met with a lacy corset that pushed her breasts into smooth rounds of flesh. He couldn't help but stare at their soft beauty. He kissed each perfect mound separately and began to untie her corset.

Simultaneously, Christine worked on Erik's pants. As he lay down next to her, fiddling with her undergarments, she could feel his growing need pressing into her thigh. It was almost more than she could stand.

"It would be faster if you just ripped it off," she mumbled, frustrated. "I can always get a new one."

Erik stopped untying her corset, amused. He looked into her eyes, his own eyes sparkling. He kissed the tip of her nose.

"Patience, my angel..." he whispered to her, his hot breath brushing her ear. "Making love is like making music...it takes time to get it just right. And I want to do this right."

He wanted to do it perfectly. Mainly because he wasn't sure if he'd get another chance. But he didn't say that to Christine.

Christine nodded. She was once again the pupil and he was the master. His pants were gone and her corset was nearly loose enough to be removed.

Erik edged the corset off of her body, relishing the way it hugged her every curve. He was already naked and fully aroused beside her. As soon as he got rid of this...one...last... There!

"Damn," he breathed.

Christine looked good naked. She looked so good in that moment that all of his years of fantasizing seemed as though they had been painted by an amateur. She looked better in reality than she had ever looked in his dreams.

"The feeling is mutual," she said finally, looking at him. "Just...one last thing."

She reached up and began to remove his mask. Erik's breath came in sharply and he raised his hand up to her own as if to stop her. But his second thoughts soon faded away.

She removed the mask.

Erik stared at her, feeling naked emotionally now as well as physically. He needed her approval. As if sensing this, Christine spoke.

"You've never looked more handsome," she said lovingly, "my sweet angel of music..."

Erik dipped his head low and began to kiss her breasts once more, this time without the cloth to interfere. She called out to him, but he used what he could of his will power.

When they could both stand it no longer, he entered her.

And only then did they truly understand the deepest meaning of The Music Of The Night.

Chapter 9: A New Beginning