Chapter 13

(A/N: Some of this chapter is very unnecessary. I wrote it for my own amusement. Then again, that's why I write this entire phic... Ah, whatever. I wrote this because I wanted some fluff, however, Chapter 14, which I already have written, I like much better.)

By the way, thank you everyone for continuing to support and read my story! I love you all, you're great!

I froze and stared at her in disbelief. I coughed and quickly recovered, saying, "That is a question I will leave for another day. I am sure you are exhausted, so sleep," I stood up and was ready to be on my way out when she called over to me, keeping me from leaving. "Erik, those years ago I do recall that you told me that we needn't hide from each other and yet, that is all you do. You hid from me for five years, your face is concealed behind a mask, and you refuse to answer my questions."

Sharply, I replied, "Christine, I will leave it till another day. Just sleep and get off my back."

"Huh...?" She uttered weakly. With a sniffle, Christine's eyes quickly filled with tears as she whimpered, "Five years it has been and you still see me as a nuisance."

"'Still'? I have never seen you as a nuisance."

"Then why did you tell me to get off your back? Is it really that I always get in the way?"

I sat back down and stroked her cheek with a gloved hand. With a sigh, I apologised, "Sorry, please forgive my temper. Christine," She gazed up at me, waiting for a response. Wordlessly I gave her another kiss. I pulled myself away and whispered, "Good night."

Christine beamed with delight and wished me a "good night, Erik," before closing her eyes and drifting to sleep.

Christine awoke the next morning to the soft playing of a monkey in Persian robes with cymbals, sitting on amusicalbox shaped like an organ.The room was blurry. She wiped her tired eyes and looked over at the chair I was sitting in the night before. It was empty. She sat at the edge of the bed for a moment for she was still a bit sleepy but she stood anyway to look for me. She saw me at my organ, playing some notes, shaking my head, scribbling over something on a piece of parchment and revising my work. Obviously I was writing some music. Christine inched towards me. Though she was light-footed my all-hearing ears caught the sound and I turned towards her. I smiled, "Good morning. I hope you had a nice sleep."

She nodded at me and I studied her. Her hair was wild, her clothes were wrinkled, and her eyelids still half-closed. "Not one for mornings, are you?Come," I invited her to sit next to me on the piano bench and she gladly accepted. She came over and sat herself down right beside me. I continued with my writing and after a few minutes, I wondered if sitting, watching me play in parts and scribbling/writing on a piece of parchment was boring. Whether it be or not, I grinned at her again, asking, "Would you like to hear a song, Christine?"

"I would love to, but I do not want to keep your from your work."

"Work? I am simply writing for my own amusement."

"Then continue."

"It is alright. I shall play for you."

I placed my fingers on the keys of the organ and play with such grace. I have just written the song but it came out as though it was one of my favorite pieces, one that I would play often. I was lost in the music. My fingers flew, hitting each key so perfectly. I opened my mouth and felt the words come through. I sung of love and I did not even know that I wrote words to the song. The song was so seductive and passionate.

Christine placed her head on my shoulder and I grinned to myself but I didn't let myself get distracted. I kept playing and when I was finished, Christine's head turned towards me and I ended the song by placing a kiss on her forehead.

I drew back and Christine had a big teethy grin stretching at her cheeks. "That song was beautiful," She said, lifting her head slightly off my shoulder so her eyes would meet mine. I nodded then stared, pausing to admire the beauty of her face... not of just her face, her whole self. Christine's cheeks reddened, "What is it?" I leaned into her, my lips on hers. Christine shivered and tensed up, I could feel it beneath my fingers as I held her. I crept my tongue in her mouth and it explored and she shook, but I did not cease.

I knew she would soon relax, so she finally succumbed and fell slowly into the bench. Her arms wrapped around my neck, our tongues were fire, and our bodies pushed up against each other. Her head was hovering above the cushion on the bench, slightly as her nails dug into my cloak, tearing it a bit. I withdrew and I smirked at her, sucking in the air I was deprived of. "Erik," She whispered, feebly, also trying to catch a breath. Still with a smirk, I pushed on the bench, lifting my body up off hers. "I apologise. I must be hurting you underneath my weight."

One corner of Christine's tired lips raised slightly. She responded, simply with a whisper, "I love you, Erik..."

"Now Christine, the reason I have come back to you is to coach you. We must train your voice to perfection!" I said with a proud grin on my face. Christine sighed, "The only reason you came back is to assist in my singing?"

"Of course not... but I was searching for an excuse to come back."

"Why would you need an excuse? Why five years? Is there something that you were waiting for particularly?" Christine sure has matured but she still asked just as many questions.

Scowling I responded, "Come off it-" Then I remembered when Christine told me that all I did was hide from her. With another scowl I considered answering her questions. "I mean, I did not want to reveal myself too soon because too many people are already aware of my existence," I began.

"But you made it that way, Monsieur Phantom of the Opera..." She accused.

"Let me finish. Ah, but wait, you made a wonderful point, dear. A phantom is what I am... the men that do not recall or were not around during the incident of five years ago think that I am a silly apparition."

"I still do not know the answers to my questions."

"Be patient, I am getting there."

Christine heaved an exasperated sigh and I tapped my foot on the ground and excused her. "Anyway, I assumed that you had forgotten about me..." I admitted quite solemnly.

"Forgotten about you? Oh, God in Heaven, no! But waiting five years would not do well for my memory of you had you slipped my mind. I could have forgotten entirely if I forgot anything at all!" She paused. "I hope that made sense."

"I understand, and I know. I was uneasy, forgive me. But when I heard you sing to Meg, I decided that I would show myself to you whether you remember or not."

Christine blinked in confusion. I knew she was going to ask another question, "Were you watching Meg and I?"

I laughed, "Oh, no!"

"Erik," Christine whined.

"Well, I was watching you particularly." The look on Christine's face told me that she was going to question me further but I interrupted her by reminding her of the singing lessons. "Christine, I would like it if we were to have our little singing lesson now."

Christine nodded and I took her hand, leading her to the organ. We sat on the bench, where we earlier had our passionate rendezvous. I grinned thinking back at it and Christine disrupted my thoughts, "Erik, are you going to teach or not?" I nodded and placed my fingers on the keys, but I kept my eyes on her. "Okay, Christine. Now sit straight... no, you have to relax, too...your body has to be just as perfect as your voice... there, you are improving already..."

After an hour or two (or maybe even longer), we finished and Christine took a large gulp of water from a cup that I left sitting on the organ for her. The cool liquid relieved her exhausted throat. "That was good, Christine," I encouraged.

"Thank you."

"But you still need a world of practise."

Christine groaned and took another gulp of her water. I took the pitcher that was on the organ and offered to pour another glass. She shook her head, "No, there is only a little left," She observed. "You take it."

"I am fine. This is not the only water I have here anyway."

"You mean you drink from the lake?"

"...No. Here take it, you had a tiring lesson."

"I do not need it. Perhaps later."

I placed the pitcher back down, "Okay, then."

"I am going to lie down for a moment, if that is alright."

"Fine, do as you wish."

Christine stood and her leg hit the keyboard. She winced, grabbing her knee. She shrieked and I quickly asked if she was okay when the pitcher of water tumbled. Whatever was left in the pitcher was now on my shirt and pants. I moaned and Christine giggled, "Well, that made me feel better."

"I am glad." I said through my teeth. I snarled, tearing off my shirt and squeezing the water out of it. Christine noticed my anger and quickly apologised, "I am sorry, Erik. Hadn't I refused to drink the water..."

"It's fine."

"Sorry I laughed..."

I glanced over at her; she actually thought I was angry. "Christine," I beckoned. She had a curious look in her eyes and I held my shirt in one hand and the other hand reached out to Christine. She took my hand slowly and when she did I yanked her into my arms. I held her to my chest and her cheek grew warm. I lead her towards my bedroom, "Do not apologise. I will find myself something to wear as I wait for these to dry. Come with me," Not like she had a choice, I was bringing her there anyway, but she didn't fight me off.

As we stepped into my "bedroom", Christine's eyes avoided the coffin. I walked her over to my wardrobe. Letting go of her, I threw the doors open, revealing my dark cloaks, pants, pants, and several white frilly shirts. There were a few more things thrown in there but I pulled out a pair of pants and a shirt. "Where do you get all your things, Erik? You do not leave the Opera House, after all."

"I do leave the Opera House, but during the day, I either take what I need from somebody here or sew it myself or what," I answered. Christine stared at me and her face changed colour due to embarrassment. She turned away and prepared to walk away but I stopped her. "Christine, stay here."

"But why?"

"Just come," I said opening my arms to her. She looked back over to me and her face just as red as ever. She slowly inched closer. I grabbed her and slipped the sleeves off her shoulders. Then I attempted to yank gently on her dress enough so it would fall. As it began to slide off, she caught it quickly. I focused my eyes back on hers. They were wide in surprise and her face was deeply flushed. "What's the problem?"

"Erik, I..." She shook her head. "Never mind. I have been here long enough, perhaps you could take my back to the Opera House?"

"Christine-"

"I will be waiting by the boat," She responded, twirling around to face the door leading out. As she started on her way out, she pulled her dress back up on herself, securely.

She left the room in a hurried pace and I sighed, staring after her. I ran a hand through my black hair that was slicked back, messing it up slightly. 'What were you thinking, Erik? She is only 17 years old.'

I approached Christine, sitting on the shore beside the dinghy. She glanced up at me when I said, "Get up off the ground. Do you want a sandy behind?" She shook her head, standing and brushing the sand off of her. "No, I suppose not."

I pushed the boat into the water and stepped into it. "What are you waiting for? I do not have all day." She nodded and I pulled my hand out to pull her in and she took it slowly. She sat in front of me without a word said and I growled, smacking myself inwardly. 'She isn't very talkative because of that. Damn, what have I done?' I thought.

Her eyes barely looked into mine, as well.

"Christine, where in the world have you been?" Meg asked, worriedly as Christine hurried back into the dorm. Christine ignored her. "Christine?"

She flopped onto her bed and dug her face into the pillow, refusing to answer to Meg. Meg sat by Christine and quietly, she said, "Christine, are you okay?"

Christine mumbled, "No, I am not. I finally see Erik again and it's horrible. I am never going back again..."