Nothing big to explain to people except that the next chapter will get a bit more exciting. Enjoy anyway and review!

Ethalas Tuath'an: Yes, now Meg does know. The part with the "coincidental C" was a bit useless, I admit, but it just came to me as an idea so I put it down. Thanks for the review!

Carkeys: Hope this chapter came up soon enough for you. Thanks for the encouragement!

PhantomLover05: I'm glad it almost did make you cry. Thanks also for reviewing!

Chapter Seventeen: Longings for a Lost Love

Erik was quite surprised and rather startled when suddenly a warm weight softly plopped onto his shoulder. It jarred his playing a little because the sudden weight shifted his hands on the keys and made him jump slightly. He looked at what it was.

Turning his head only resulted in something black and shiny tickling his nose, almost making him sneeze. He jerked his head back quickly and looked down onto Loralee's newly sleeping form.

He studied her closely as his hands continued to play.

She looked so peaceful while sleeping. He knew one touch of the hand without his music would make her placid dreams turn into hellish turmoil of memories with Hector. But while he played his music and left her alone, her face was relaxed with a slight smile and gently closed eye lids.

After he finished the song, he looked at the tall pipes of the organ. They seemed to turn less inviting to him and he suddenly had the urge to do something else.

Looking around the room, he searched for something that wouldn't disturb Loralee's sleep. Instead of waking her up as Erik shifted his shoulders, she snuggled her head deeper into the crook of his neck making him tense up. Erik loosened only when he was sure she was asleep.

Finally his eyes landed on the water colors that Loralee had given him. He stood up suddenly, forgetting Loralee was resting on his shoulder, and panicked when he saw what he did. Quick as a flash, he turned around and caught Loralee just before she hit the organ bench.

Erik was going to have to start working on his skills of being a friend. Soon.

He walked over and placed her on a chair he had, hoping it would be comfortable enough for her sleep in. Then, making sure nothing would disturb her, he carefully went down to the desk with the water colors.

Water colors had never been his favorite choice of drawing utensils for art. Usually he like charcoal or colored pastels, but he had done a few paintings in water colors to knew he at least enjoyed them.

Taking out a brush, he dipped it into the black paint and started to unconsciously draw something on the paper with out really looking. His mind was off some where else in the clouds.

It had been nearly three years since that horrible night. He could still feel her lips on his and the taste of her tears in his mouth. He could still remember the sense of understanding as she slowly separated and looked him nervously into the eye; the dreaded look that made him send her away with the Vicomte. He still remembered letting the two shaken prisoners out of his grip and vowing when his beloved angel went out of sight that he would never, ever play music again.

But what now?

Erik focused on the drawing in front of him and saw the left side of Christine's face was taking shape. He smiled at her likeliness which was starting to smile lovingly up at him. Soon he was off in his thoughts, though, oblivious to what his paint brush was doing on the paper.

Almost two years ago he remembered his first interaction with Loralee in the chapel, and as soon as she fainted he thought he knew she would never be worth his time.

But those nights he saw her dancing in the vacant practice room he knew she had her true soul hidden. Erik knew about her hidden scars and dancing - her real life - but still had no idea that she would ever talk to him as a equal person.

It was only until Loralee pledged her service to him in his Box that he sensed a friendship with her.

Suddenly, Erik remembered the night in the chapel. That feeling he had gotten when they stared into each others eyes - that bond - could it really be. . . a true friendship?

Loralee sure thought so.

He slightly smiled unconsciously at the memory of her giving Erik permission to be her friend. Looking back, Erik realized how stupid he must have sounded, asking for someone's permission to be a friend. Usually it just happened, but Erik had never had experiance before.

The only worry on his mind of Loralee being his friend was his face.

No doubt, she'd run away first thing when he'd finally show it to her like so many have. If she didn't run away, however, she would still most likely treat him as an animal and make fun of every fiber of his being. He shivered in anger at the very thought and his brush strokes became harder and more harsh.

Christine had once ripped off his mask without permission and saw his horrid deformation. It was then that all hope of her loving him disappeared.

The same thing would happen to Loralee if she ripped it off, friend or not.

He came back to his senses when there was a yelp of fright coming from the chair. Loralee was having another bad dream.

Cursing his face, memories, and Hector (for causing Loralee so much pain), Erik went over to her side.

"Loralee!" he said, his hand coming out to shake her awake. Just as his fingers made contact with her arm, though, her other hand shot out and grasped his wrist in a death lock. Her eyes shot open in fright and she sat up, breathing irregular and fast.

"GET OFF OF ME, HECTOR!" she yelled at Erik who looked at Loralee's terrified face with shock.

Loralee stared at Erik for a few seconds, then blinked, shaking herself out of the dream.

"I'm sorry," she gasped out, letting Erik's hand go and curling up into a tight ball. When her shoulders started to shake, Erik knew she was crying. Not sure what to do in a situation like this, he just rubbed her back awkwardly while shushing her softly with sweet words.

After doing what seemed a fair amount of calming, Erik got away from her as quickly as possible. In truth, he just wanted to be away because he was afraid he was going to make a fool of himself while she was in this dreaded state. Instead, he went over to look at what he drew.

As his eyes finally looked upon the whole picture, he nearly toppled off the chair with surprise. Instead of Christine's calm face staring at him lovingly as he wanted the picture to be like, there was two faces combined as one.

Christine's warm and mellow features were on the left, gazing at him as he wished she could, but her nose, her hair, her mouth, and her skin all changed mid way into a girl's face with a small mouth, larger nose, and wavy black hair. Her expression seemed to be happy but in her eyes he captured a strong fear and sadness.

He was looking at Christine and Loralee in one head.

The sight made his head dizzy with surprise and anger and he crumpled the picture up, throwing it as far away from his desk as he could. Erik then buried his head in his hands, wondering what made him draw such a picture, a pointless fear pulsing through his veins.

Loralee couldn't be taking over Christine's place. She couldn't. He wouldn't let her.

Erik rubbed the left side of his forehead, the side unmasked, and looked up into a pair of blue eyes.

"Are you alright?" Loralee asked, eyeing him cautiously. He growled in reply, getting up and turning away from her.

"I should be asking you that question, shouldn't I?" he said as he wandered down to the lakes edge, re-lighting some candles.

"It doesn't matter," she said, getting out of the chair. He looked at her warily as she tested out her feet. After walking a few steps she pronounced herself all better. Erik snorted.

"Of course you're fine," he said sarcastically. "You have bad dreams every second, you sleep all day, and you have a large cut on you that has most likely not fully healed. I'd declare myself perfect if I were you, too."

Loralee just glared at him as he went over to put on his discarded robe. Shrugging it on, he saw Loralee walking away into Christine's room and was glad. He definitely needed some time on his own.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Loralee walked into the room she had been sleeping in the past few days. She looked around. The covers on the bed she slept in were jumbled up and for the first time she noticed the absolute beauty and exquisitness of the swan bed. Loralee fingered the swan's head wondering where in the world Erik got such wonderful furniture such as this bed.

She then went over to a wardrobe to see what was inside. Her mind was telling herself to stop her nosing about before she got into trouble with the short tempered Erik, but Loralee didn't listen to her conscience and instead opened the doors.

The contents of the wardrobe surprised her. She was expecting to see evening suits hung up with long black capes but instead she saw about seven beautiful gowns made of the finest material in the most attractive ways. They were of the highest fashion and made Loralee's jaw drop.

Why in the world would Erik have such awesomely beautiful dresses in his house? Even the whole room was fashioned for a girl, Loralee suddenly noticed with a start.

Christine.

It must have been Christine's room. She is the only girl Erik would do such things for. It must have been so hard for him to have his love suddenly betray him and turn her back on him, Loralee thought. Suddenly, Loralee longed to hold and comfort Erik from his past.

The longing was even strong enough to make her walk over to the door, but Loralee hesitated when she saw Erik.

He was sitting at the organ and obviously annoyed about something. She could see the muscles in his neck twitch and his jaw clench shut, eyes burning yet looking far away at something she new she'd never see. One hand was clenched tightly into a fist and the other was running through his hair over and over again.

He must have either caught sight of her some how or sensed her presence because soon he whipped around to face her, his white mask gleaming dangerously in the candle light.

"What do you want now?" he asked Loralee curtly. She just stared at him, knowing it was rude, but couldn't stop. "And stop starring!" Erik snapped at her, turning his back to her once more.

Loralee snapped out of it and went over to Erik's side, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"This is about Christine, isn't it?" she asked. He tensed and then quick as a bullet, his hand was around her neck and pinning her to the wall much like he had done in Box 5. The only difference was that there was no Madame Giry to save her.

"Never speak her name!" he hissed dangerously at Loralee. "NEVER! Do you hear me?"

Loralee nodded furiously, clawing at his hand uselessly, trying to get free. He wouldn't let her go, though, and she finally just limply hung onto his wrist.

"I. . . can't. . . breathe!" she choked out, looking desperately into his dangerously sparking eyes.

He only tightened his grip on her throat more for a few seconds before realizing what he was doing.

Erik's grip on her neck loosened, and soon he was backing away, fear of his actions on his face. He shook his head, staring at the wall next to Loralee's face and muttering, "No. . . No! What have I done? No!"

Loralee watched him, rubbing her neck gingerly and stepped forward when Erik crouched onto the ground, head in his hands.

"Erik. . ." she said, coming over to him cautiously and slowly putting her arms around him, bringing him into a friendly hug. It shocked her greatly when she saw tears streaming down his face. Erik avoided eye contact and just sat there, limp in her arms.

"I wish I could see her again. . ." he said between sobs. She rubbed his back, her face a mixture of shock and understanding.

"I know Erik," was all Loralee managed to say.

"I wish I never let her go. . . Oh, Christine. . . What have I done, Christine. . . Christine. . ." he whimpered into Loralee's shoulder. "She was all I ever wanted. . . Perfect. . . The voice of an angel, flawless features, an innocent soul. . . Perfect. . . My angel of music. . . But I let her go. . . She didn't love me. . . didn't love me. . . Christine. . ."

Loralee held Erik and comforted him for what seemed hours. Soon she could feel no more wet tears on her shoulder but instead his shuddering breaths as he tried to calm himself. She only let him go when he pulled back, avoiding her eye contact.

"I think you should get some sleep, Erik," Loralee said, noticing the bags under his eyes.

"What? Sleep? No. . . Too useless. . . I think I shall just play. . . Yes, the organ seems inviting."

She watched him helplessly from the ground as he wiped off his tears and sat down at the organ. His pride and strength had seemed to disappear but some of it returned as he placed his fingers above the keys. When he started to play a dreadfully morbid and depressive tune, Loralee thought it best to just leave him alone for the time being.

She went back into the room, now feeling like some one intruding on his most beloved and treasured room, and carefully laid herself on the lush silk sheets, wishing herself to get to sleep as quickly as possible to block out Erik's sorrowful playing.

But sleep never came for Loralee, and for what seemed forever, she just sat on Christine's bed, knees up to her chin, and her arms around her legs.

Erik found her like this when he came to check on her a few hours later.

"I want to go back now," Loralee said weakly, without looking up at Erik.