a/n /tear/ it's the last chapter. /tear/ damn... i swore to myself i wouldn't cry/cries/ I'm going to miss you all... yet never fear, for there shall be a few more stories out by me soon! You shall not go without my stories!

Chapter 9 Review thank you:

Loser: I hope i have not failed to comply... Thank for the review! hug

inkie pinkie: i am going to keep writing, i would be letting to many people down if i were to stop! hug

Lilhikki : yes, yes, more E/R to come, i promise you all! Isn't Philippe great sometimes? lol, thank you! hug

Moonjava: I'm glad you like the chapter despite the short length, and i hope you like this one as well! hug

Now, throughout the story I am glad to say that to this very moment i have recieved many many reviews! I would like to acknowledge each reviewer:

inkie pinkie

BlackAuthor

Lilhikki

Moonjava

Miz Perfect

Loser

Bastet Starwind

wolfegurl006 (who i realize has been out of town and unable to find a comp to review with T.T)

Two-Bit Wannabe

mrs.butler (no matter how... interesting the comments may be i do not hold anything against you!)

Samyo

Thank you all! And now, to the remaining chapter, ENJOY!


ERIK POV

I wake up in a haze, though something specific has gotten my attention. It takes me a few seconds to realize that it was the crack of one of my traps going off.

I stumble out of my seat, knocking the three empty wine bottles off the desk, throwing them down with the five that already litter the ground.

My head throbs as I stumble my way to the trap. It was definitly the one by Christine's room, the noise came from right in that direction.

My head starts to clear halfway up and my speed increases, and I thank the gods that it did. In my trap, a Punjab Lasso that can find it's way around any intruders neck, struggling and gagging against the rope, is Raoul.

"Raoul!" I cry out, rushing to his side.

He tries to speak, but it comes out so choked I can't understand him. I try to free him, but his struggling makes holding onto the rope difficult.

"Hold still," I demand, and he does. Without his struggling the task is much easier, and the noose slips over his head with ease.

I catch him as he starts to fall to the ground, sucking in air, and rubbing his sore throat. I hold him tight to me, his shaking and shocked form seeming so fragile. I lightly lower us to the ground, where I set him in my lap and press his face gently into my neck.

"I'm sorry, Raoul. It's over now," I whisper.

He shakes his head, causing him to wince. His voice is no more than a hoarse whisper, "I should be the one appologizing. I was the one who ran off."

"That wasn't you're fault. I scared you off," I admit, for the first time in three days. "It was all my fault."

"I guess we can both blame ourselves, can't we?" he smiles. "Making us both guilty."

"If to love is a crime then so help humanity, for there is no hope left," I sigh.

He nods, "I can agree with that."

I look down to the ground as he scrambles out of my lap to get a good look at me.

He frowns, "You're drunk."

"No, not now. Now I'm in the middle of the worst hangover of my life. Not like you can say much better, you look like you're ill again," I point out.

"Sick with grief, sick with guilt," he admits.

The pain of the remark tears at my already aching heart. Not only am I guilty of nearly killing my love, but I have caused him more pain emotionally than I have physically.

"Why are you here?" I ask, seriously.

"Well, that started between my mom and my dad in the bedroom some years ago," he jokes.

I scowl, "You know what I mean."

"God, Erik, are you that blind?" maybe I am, "I loved you. I never stopped loving you either. It did not matter to me that you threw me out, my heart still longed for you. These past three days have been so terrible. When Madame Giry told me that you weren't leaving and that all but one entrance was blocked I felt sick. When she told me why you were acting the way you did then I actually did get sick. Erik, I love you, and I want you to tell me if my love is worth nothing. If it is I will personally see to it that we never encounter each other again."

I turn so that he can't see me, so that he can't see my tears, so I can keep my one shred of dignity.

RAOUL POV

He has turned away, and I can't tell if this is good or bad.

His first answer is inaudible. Even with my throat I can talk louder than he is right now.

"What?" I ask, my voice desperate and sad.

He yells the answer back at me, "I love you, too!" When he turns there are tears streaming down his face, "I love you. Please, don't leave me again."

He drops his head into his hands and his shoulders shake in silent sobs.

I drop down in front of him, "That's all I needed to hear, and more. I love you, Erik."

His sobs become audible and I pull him to me, as he did for me seconds ago.

Sitting on this cold stone floor there is something that is unsaid that passes between us. There is a promise made that can not be described in words. It is a promise that the heart makes when one man loves another, a promise that can never be broken, not by death, not by disease, and not by another man. This is a promise that no matter where the other is, they will always be together in the heart.

Erik's sobs slow and I start to run my fingers through his tangled and unruly hair. I whisper calming words, and then something else comes to me, and I find myself singing out loud, "Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Let me lead you from your solitude. Say you need me with you here, beside you. Anywhere you go let me go too, that all I ask of you. Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Say the word and I will follow you. Share each day with me, each night, each morning."

He cuts in, "Say you love me."

I look into his eyes, "You know I do."

And in perfect timing we finish the song together, "Love me – that's all I ask of you."

I look at him questioningly, "How did you know that?"

He looks away, ashamed, "I was up there too. Hiding behind the statues, and I heard you two, and I saw you two."

I nod, "I guessed you were up there. Not right away, but later."

His frown grows, "Then I later ran up onto that same gargoyle that we were laying on and screamed to you, 'You will curse the day you did not do, all that the Phantom asked of you'. I'm not proud of that now, but I hated you and her so much for being able to know joy when I knew no such luxury."

I take two fingers, and lift his chin with them, gently, and look into his eyes, "I never knew what true joy was until I met you. Before that it was simply my brain going off and yelling at me that if I had loved her when we were children then I could love her more so now that we had grown. I never realized what true joy or love felt like until I met you."

There is no answer, not that there is a need for one either. He simply looks at me with such a loving gaze, and then catches my lips in the most searing kiss of my life.

His lips dance over mine, smooth and inviting. I lean into him, begging for more, and he allows his lips to part enough for his tongue to run over my lips. I gladly comply to his begging and open my mouth, his tongue instantly entering, reaching mine and then searching my mouth. I tangle his hair between my fingers pulling myself as close as possible to him. His tongue moves along my teeth and then meets mine again. This time my tongue tangles with his.

Erik's hand slips around my back and then pulls me into his lap. I continue to kiss him until we both need to pull back, out of breath and yet unwilling to give up this perfect moment together.

I let my hands fall out of his hair and rest on his chest, moving my head to his shoulder. His one hand remains on my back as his other hand starts to play with my hair. I could fall asleep like this right now, and never wake up, knowing that I fell asleep the luckiest man alive.

I nuzzle his neck, "You know, you never gave me that Opera Ghost tour that you were going to take me on."

He laughs, "I guess I didn't, did I?"

"Will you take me tomorrow?" my lips brush against his skin.

"Of course," he says, "If you still want to."

"Then it's settled," I can't wait to see what tomorrow brings.

He smiles, "Then let's worry about ending today the right way. How about dinner?"

I move my head so I can look at him, "But it can't be passed two in the afternoon yet, can it?"

He smiles, mischeviously, "Yes, but you'll want to end early tonight."

I give him a questioning glance.

"You'll know when I tell you, but I won't tell you until we've eaten," so I comply.

Eating my food as fast as possible without getting sick again, we finish much faster than usual.

"Wait here," he demands, and I listen.

When he returns he's holding a stack of at least one hundred pages.

"What's that?" I ask.

He holds up the stack, "This is my latest music. There's one hundred and twelve pages."

"What's it about?" I look into his eyes, which glint at me.

"This particular piece," he kneels down by me, "I wrote for you."

"What?" I ask in disbelief. It can't be about me!

"This piece was written between the time that you left for that meeting to last night, when I finally downed the last three bottles of wine that I was using to keep me awake so I could knock myself into sleep. This whole piece was written by me, but solely inspired by you," he places the papers safetly at his side and takes my hand, "And it's finally worthy of you hearing it."

He swiftly takes a seat on the organ bench, the music on the stand in front of him. Not like he needs the music, he always memorizes his works.

I sit in a chair right behind him and listen to the music. The first section is light, happy and if it were a star it would be bright as the sun. Then it moves into a more mellow tune, a perfect tune of two keys working in perfect harmony. Slowly the music changes to a light, almost sad tune, a worried tone to it, but changing constantly between a sad and light mood. And then there's the finale, which mixes in an angry tone, along with a mourning loss in the background, and then it finishes with the four parts mixed into one beautiful frenzy. Thinking back and placing events in order the music goes from when we first met, to the first night that we spent together, to when I was sick, and finally when I left. The whole thing tears at my heart and sets my soul flying to the heavens.

He turns, expectantly.

I can only manage one word, "beautiful," before leaning forward and kissing him again.

When our lips part he looks at me, "Do you really think so?"

I nod, "Yes. It is perfect from start to end."

He glances at the clock and we both notice it is well into the night. Nothing would be more worth staying up late, than staying up late to hear that.

MADAME GIRY POV

I listen as the room is filled with the most beautiful music I have ever heard. I'd recognize Erik's music anywhere.

Meg's head lifts and she looks to me, "Is that him, mom?"

I nod, "It is."

"Then that would mean that Raoul is back?" I had told her the story of what was going on.

"It would appear so," I smile.

"I'm glad. He always plays the most beautiful music when Raoul is down there," I left out the important detail of the two being in love though, to save her from having to deal with that, and to save Erik from many other people knowing.

I look at her, "You're right, he does."

She looks to the mirror, "This is the happiest music he has played since she died mother, isn't it?"

After Christine died Erik never let a happy tune leave his heart, not until Raoul.

"This is," I agree.

She then settles into bed as the song ends, "I hope he makes more songs like this."

I look to the mirror as well, "So do I."

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a/n: please review and let me know what you all think, i can not improve without you!