Erik sat in his study, pieces of paper strewn everywhere. He had wanted to try writing music again, but it brought back to many painful memories. He rested his head in his hand and flipped the pen around mindlessly. Everything he tried to do lately had turned into complete rubbish. His songs were dull and lifeless, even his conversations bored him to tears. And to make matters worse it seemed that Sara was going out of her way to avoid him.

They had gotten into an argument a few days earlier. It had already been a year since the fire at the Opera Populaire. They were quite content in their home, far away from the people they once knew.

They had come across the odd article involving the D'Chagny family. Most of the articles were about charitable events, once or twice about the family. Erik had picked up the paper at breakfast and found an article telling how the Viscomte and Countess were expecting their first child. Erik had gone into a fit of sorrow and locked himself away, refusing to talk to Sara about it.

Sara had chosen to leave him be, not wanting to listen to him whine about how life was unfair. She left to visit Meg, who was getting married in a matter of months and left Erik to wallow in his self pity. When he finally emerged, they got into an argument about it.

"This isn't healthy Erik!" Sara scolded him. "You can't spend the rest of your life pining for Christine, when you've told me that she's in your past."

Erik had given her a look that would stop even the most determined person in their tracks, which of course was wasted on Sara, since she did not see it. "What do you know about my past?"

"Nothing." Sara said.

"Exactly."

"But that is because you don't share your past with me."

Erik moved to say something but the words were lost in the truth she had just spoken. "Well, you don't share your past with me either!"

Sara put her fork down and stood up from the table. "When you tell me your past, then I will tell you mine."

Erik sighed and removed his mask, rubbing his tired eyes. He pressed it back against his sensitive skin turned to the window. There were dark clouds rolling in and several droplets of water were running down the glass. The weather seemed to match the mood he was in, and that only made him more depressed.

He watched the water trickle down and saw the occasional flash of lightening in the distance. A soft knock sounded at his door, and he briefly considered ignoring it. The knock came again, louder and a bit more frantic.

"What is it?" He asked.

"Forgive my intrusion sir." The young maid said as she entered the dark room. "But the mistress is outside, and doesn't seem to want to come in."

Erik looked at the girl curiously. "Why should that worry you? She is probably just resting in the solarium, or perhaps she's at the stables."

The girl shook her head. "No sir, she's in the gardens, and it is beginning to rain heavily."

The sound of Erik's fist slamming down on the desk made the poor girl jump and cry out softly. He muttered a curse and stood up. He grabbed his long velvet smoking jacket, one of the few things from the Opera House that he still wore, and pulled it on as he ran down the stairs two at a time.

It wasn't like Sara to be like this. In fact he had never seen her do something this foolish before. The rain was coming down in sheets, but was warm as it quickly soaked him. He sighed in frustration as he made his way through the giant garden. He stopped in an archway to wipe the water from his eyes when he spotted her. He took several steps toward her, but stopped when he realized what she was doing.

She was dancing to music that only she could hear. Although Sara, as far as he knew, had never been trained in ballet, she had a natural grace. Years of learning to move swiftly and silently had made her light on her feet. She moved just as well as any of the dancers at the Opera Populaire had been.

Sara was humming quietly to herself, a song that Erik didn't recognize. She continued to leap, spin and dance around the garden. How she missed statues and the large fountain, Erik couldn't tell, but her hair was flying out behind her and when she spun, droplets of water were added to the cascading rain.

He stepped out from where he stood and caught Sara around her waist. She didn't cry out, or even flinch, and he knew that she had sensed him there the whole time. She continued to hum and the two of them moved in perfect symmetry of each other. Anyone watching would have thought the two of them were a pair of ballet dancers, not two people without any formal dance training.

Sara bent herself over Erik's arm and he ran his hand from her neck down to her stomach and back up again. He could feel Sara shiver and he knew at once it wasn't because she was cold. He tightened the muscles in his arm as he lowered his head to rest at the base of her neck.

His back began to cramp up and he straightened, Sara following his body. Their movements were so intimate; they seemed to be one person. Erik had never experienced anything so intimate and pleasurable before. He pushed Sara away from him gently.

"We should go inside; we'll catch our deaths out here." Erik said, turning away from her.

Sara dug her heels in when he tried to lead her away. Erik sighed in frustration and turned back to her. He was about to demand that they go inside when she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him roughly to her. He was caught off guard by her sudden aggressiveness and they fell over.

He grunted when his back slammed roughly to the ground. But all pain and discomfort disappeared as her lips ravished his. He was about to wrap his arms around her when she suddenly pulled back from him and with a giggle, ran off towards the house.

Erik pushed himself up on his elbows and stared after her in disbelief. A mischievous smile crept across his features and he jumped to his feet. He ran inside the house, slipping for a brief moment on a small puddle of water that had dripped off of Sara. He ran to the stairs and found her standing at the top of them, waiting expectantly for him.

Erik climbed the stairs one at a time, much like he had, long ago, at the Opera House the night of the Masquerade. Sara's breath quickened as she listened to him draw ever closer to her. She backed down the hallway towards her room, knowing that he was following her slowly, stalking her like a predator stalked its prey and that thought excited her.

Her back pressed against her bedroom door as his body pressed against hers. His lips began to descend on hers when she quickly lowered the latch to her room and ducked away from him. Erik groaned in frustration and followed her into the room, kicking the door shut.

When he looked at Sara it was like she was staring at him, even though her eyes had absolutely no sight. He moved towards her quickly, not wanting to give her the chance to tease him any more. He crushed his lips to hers and pulled her tightly against him. The force of his pull made water seep from his soaking clothes and run down his chest.

Sara's hands worked between their bodies and swept the long jacket off his shoulders. Erik's lips worked magic on hers, making her knees weak. The sensations he was creating in her were completely foreign and exciting to her. She ran her fingers over the skin that was not covered by his shirt. She could feel droplets of water on the hot flesh of his chest and leaned forward to lick it off.

Erik's back arched towards her and his fingers dug into Sara's shoulders. He pushed her away from him and spun her around roughly. He quickly undid the buttons at the back of her dress and pushed it off her.

"God damn!" He muttered looking at the ties of her corset.

Sara's face knotted in confusion. "What is it?"

"You're corset has too many laces, it will take forever to undo." Erik paused and thought for a moment, glancing over at her desk. A letter opener sitting on the top gave him and idea. "Wait right here."

Sara was about to protest, but he had already left the room. He came back minutes later, a small dagger in hand. He pushed the blade under the ties and pushed upward, cutting all the laces in one slice.

Erik pushed the corset from her body, leaving her in only the thin Chemise and her skirts. Erik's head dipped low and his lips pressed into the curve of her neck as his hands slid around to rest on her stomach. Sara's leaned back against his shoulder and they stood like that for several long minutes.

Sara pulled away from him and turned in his arms. She gently pulled the mask from his face and let it drop to the floor at their feet. She wrapped her hands around the back of his head and pulled his cheek down to her lips. She gently explored the strange flesh. She was only able to see through touch, and this sensation completely overwhelmed Erik.

He had never had someone willingly put their lips to his cheek. Christine had touched his face when she had kissed him, but even then it had been a hesitant touch. Sara was the only one to touch his face and not be disgusted or terrified by the foreign skin.

The sensation of her lips became too much for Erik to bear and he quickly pulled away from her. Sara stumbled slightly at the force of his push and her hip slammed against her dressing table.

"What is it?" She asked, feeling that she had done something wrong.

Tears were streaming down Erik's face. He had never experienced such love from a woman before and he wasn't quite sure how to handle it. He felt like a child trapped alone in a dark room. The feeling was so new to him. Even when Christine had kissed him, the kiss was passionate, but the feeling of love wasn't the same. He found himself wondering how he could have mistaken it for love.

Sara stood her hip still against the table. She listened to his quiet sobs and finally crossed the room to him. She wrapped her arms around him and he pressed his face into the crook of her neck, wetting her skin with his tears. She petted his hair and whispered soothing words in his ear. She had no idea what he was thinking, and she certainly didn't understand what he was going through, but she wasn't about to judge him for it.

"I love you." She whispered to him.

His arms tightened so hard that it took her breath away. She grabbed his head and lifted it away from her neck. She pressed her lips to his tears, kissing them away, trying to show him how much she loved him. She pressed her lips to his and kissed him passionately, but even then it seemed like such a minor thing compared to all the feelings that she was experiencing at that moment.

Erik's leg pushed against hers and he gently pushed her towards the bed. He lowered her onto it gently, like he was laying a newborn in its crib. He stretched out beside her and ran his hand over her cheek.

His heart was fluttering nervously and it felt like it had dropped to his stomach. He never thought that it would be possible to feel so much for someone. He wanted to pull Sara inside of him so that she could be a part of him for all eternity. He wanted nothing more than to stay where he was, his body against hers intimately but in the most non-sexual manor.

Memories flooded his mind as he held her close. He remembered walking through the hallways of the Opera house and coming across the small child. She had been standing alone, scared and shaking in the dark hallway. She had looked like a small cherub and he hated the thought of touching her and leaving a finger print on her, like she was a piece of glass.

He had watched her grow into an awkward teenager then into the beautiful strong woman beside him. He couldn't understand how he could let himself spend so much time wallowing in self pity and trying to get Christine to love him, when everything he needed was in the woman who was now lying in his arms.

"I want to wait for this." Erik whispered in her ear.

"What do you mean?" Sara asked him, moving her body closer to his, seeking his warmth.

"I want to do this properly. I want us to be married first." Sara gasped quietly. "Sara I want you to be in my life forever. I want you to marry me and be mine for eternity."