OK, I guess I'm going to have to address a few things. I must admit, as an author, it seems I've failed to do my research. No, I don't know if Braille was around in the 1870s. But when you think about it, Braille was widely used in the 1880s, so it probably wouldn't be too difficult to believe that it could have been used ten years earlier. But it case it wasn't, we'll just say it was for this story! There we go! Artist license! Gotta love it! Also, with regard to Erik's injury that made him do blind, a hard blow to the back of the neck could cause a person to go blind by either bending or damaging the nerves that affect the eyes. I'm still new to this whole story-writing thing and sometimes I write stuff without realizing that some people don't understand what's going through my head or they don't understand some of the background information, so if I do something like this again, please don't hesitate to send a review and ask me about it.

Now that that's cleared up, onto the next chapter!

XxXxX

After that, Christine was over at Madame Giry's home almost every day to help Erik slowly regain his independence. The first few days were spent teaching Erik how to find his way around using a cane. It began with simply walking around his room. Then he was made to navigate a few other rooms in the house. His progress was slow at first. He kept bumping into tables and knocking things over. But Erik was determined, and in time he moved from room to room with grace. Using the stairs was his next biggest challenge.

"By sliding your foot forward, you can feel the edge of the stair and step down. Remember to keep your cane out so you can feel the floor. Hold onto the banister. There we go… come on… it's not that hard, you see?"

"No, I don't see," Erik smiled mischievously.

"Nice to see your sense of humour hasn't suffered," Christine laughed.

"I didn't know I had a sense of humour."

Next came learning how to read using Braille. Christine bought as many books as she could find to help her teach Erik this new skill.

"You feel those bumps?" she asked him. "That's a 'C.'"

Erik got easily frustrated over these reading lessons. They didn't come as easily to him as learning how to use his cane.

"Oh, none will… m-mourn me… when I am… dead… Give heed to… the surly… b... b... This is impossible!" Erik declared, throwing the book down. "I'll never get the hang of it!"

"Don't say that!" Christine said, picking up the book. "You were doing just fine!"

"It's so hard."

"Did you expect it to come easily?" Christine asked, handing him the book again.

Erik sighed and picked up where he left off. "Oh, none will mourn… me, when I am dead… Give heed to the surly… bells that I have… fled… From this…vilest… w-world… of vilest worlds… to dwell."

"See? You can do it!"

As the days turned into weeks, Erik's skills improved. Christine even found that sometimes he would meet her on the porch on the days she came to continue their lessons. Sometimes, if the day was fair, they would go for long walks together, Erik gently holding Christine's hand for security. At times, some young men on the streets passing by them would make catcalls at Christine. In such cases Erik would bristle and his grip on his cane would tighten until his knuckles turned white and, to avoid a scene, Christine would take him back home again.

One day, Christine entered the Giry home and found that, for once, Erik wasn't there to meet her. Hurrying up to his room, Christine found Erik standing and facing a bedpost, his Punjab lasso in hand. Erik threw the Punjab at the post, but he had misjudged his position and the lasso sailed past, catching air.

"Erik, what are you doing?"

"Did I get it?"

"No. Nearly, but no. You threw it a little too far."

Erik grumbled and pulled the lasso back again.

"Why are you practicing with the Punjab? Erik, I don't want you to turn back to your killing ways!"

"I'm practicing for your sake," Erik replied. "If one of those wretched boys on the streets ever came after you during one of our walks… If they tried to rob you or take you away, knowing that I am blind… I wouldn't be able to live with myself, Christine…" Erik took the Punjab and prepared to throw it again. "Besides… a man should know how to defend himself."

Erik threw the Punjab again. This time it hit the side of the bedpost and slid off.

"Did I get it that time?"

"No."

"Blast!"

"You were very close that time."

"It doesn't matter how close I was! I still missed!"

"Here," she said, moving behind him. "Let me be your eyes…" She took his hand and held it out in front of him, pointing it at the bedpost. "It's right there… about eight feet in front of you…"

Erik threw the Punjab once again. This time, it landed neatly over the top of the bedpost and pulled tight around it.

"I got it?"

"Yes, Erik!" Christine smiled, coming around to hug him. "You got it!"

Erik was surprised by her embrace but, after a moment, returned it happily. He lifted her off her feet and swung her around. Christine giggled girlishly. Erik put her down on the floor again. Then, before he knew what he was doing, he bent down and kissed her fiercely.

"What am I doing?" Erik thought. "She's engaged!"

But then Christine returned the kiss with a passion that matched his. Erik ran his hands down her back, grabbed hold of her small hips and pulled them up to meet his own. Christine gasped as she felt his growing desire push into her, straining to get through the barrier of clothing. Pulling him down to her, Christine laid back onto the bed while Erik hovered inches above her. Touching and feeling, he explored her body… her face, her lips, her slender neck, her heaving bosom, her sloping stomach… every inch of her. Each touch set Christine on fire, filling her with passion.

Erik was pleased with the contented little noises escaping from the figure below him. This is what he always wanted. To completely possess her mind, body and spirit. If only he could see the beautiful creature in his arms… if only he could see the look of satisfaction on her face…

Erik continued searching her with his hands. "Oh… yes, Erik," she moaned. "Yes. Erik. Erik! Yes! Oh, yes!"

Christine looked into Erik's eyes, which were hanging open, probably without him even realizing it. Those unseeing eyes burned through her, passionate and filled with love. For her.

But then another face entered her mind… Raoul… Raoul, with a look of pain and sadness upon his face. Raoul, filled with grief over finding her unfaithful. So unfaithful…

Christine suddenly felt dirty. Women like her belonged on the streets! In a flash, she pushed Erik off of her and jumped off the bed, backing away from him.

"Christine?" Erik couldn't find her. She was beneath him only a moment ago. Now she was gone.

She quickly ran to the mirror, smoothing her unruly locks of hair and smoothing her dress. No one must ever know what she had done. She was filthy!

"Christine…" Erik held out a hand, searching for her. "Christine… I'm sorry… I didn't mean to…"

"I'm sorry, Erik," Christine whimpered, backing towards the doorway. "I can't… I just can't… I'm sorry… I should go now…"

"Christine, please… Wait!"

Christine fled the room and ran as fast as she could from the house. She hopped into her carriage and raced for home.

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Well, damn! Poor Erik just isn't getting a break! I hope I didn't overdo it in the kissing scene. I really don't want to trash a good story by making it all sex and fondling. R/C shippers may hate me for writing that, and E/C shippers may hate me for cutting it short! But hey, I can't please everyone! Check in tomorrow, and you just might find an update!