Chapter Thirteen

Oh, Christine.

Your eyes have scarcely left my face all morning. You think I do not notice, when I am not returning your gaze, but I do. I can feel your eyes against my skin.

Why do you continue to look at me? Have I changed in some way?

When I meet your eyes, I see something different in your expression, yet I cannot pinpoint what it is. . . When our gazes lock, you hold it for only a split second, before modestly, shyly, averting your eyes to the table.

"Why do you look away, Christine?" I ask.

You seem flustered. "I don't know what you're talking about, Erik."

"You stare at me, then look away when I look up. Why do you look away? Are you shy?"

"No. . ."

"Why do you stare, in the first place?"

You give a graceful shrug of your shoulders, then a nervous laugh.

I return these reactions with a smirk, and a blush rises in your cheeks.

"Excuse me. . ." you murmur, and attempt to rise from the table.

"No," I reply, extending my hand so it touches yours, stalling your exit. "Please stay. . ."

You smile softly, and ease back down into the chair. "Alright. . ." A silence descends.

"Christine. . .?"

"Yes, Erik?" You meet my gaze.

"If you were given the chance to leave me now, and resume your life as it once was. . . would you?"

A silence. "No. . ."

You surprise me. "Why not?"

"I have grown accustomed to life as it is," you reply evasively.

"Yes, but do you enjoy it?"

"Yes."

"You lie."

"Why do you try to force me to say I hate it here, with you? For I do not. Truly."

"And what keeps you from hating it?"

"You, Erik. . ."

I am silent, wordlessly begging for an explanation as I gaze into your clear, blue eyes.

"Oh, please do not ask me to explain. You should know, by now. Please. . . do not turn this into a confessional of my deepest, darkest secrets."

"And what makes them dark?" I exclaim. "How is love dark? Is it because of me? Do I automatically make it dark, and wrong?" These words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

"Erik, what makes the love dark is that I have never felt anything like it before!" You jump to your feet suddenly. "It is so different, so exquisite! The love is like the man it is inspired by! Dark, yet beautiful; perfect, yet flawed!

"And I fear it, yet I adore it! I want to surrender myself completely, yet at the same time, the thought frightens me to death. I want to retain my cursed innocence, yet at the same time, I want it to be banished to some far away place, never to be seen again." You are near shouting now.

"But Erik, what I want most of all is for you to take some of the light in me, and replace it with some of your divine darkness! Make me yours at last! Please!"

You throw yourself to the ground at my feet, and I stare at you in shock.

In the past months, I have gone from hearing nothing from you, to hearing you passionately begging me to claim you once and for all.

"Erik, I know I have pushed you away in the past, even recently," you say suddenly, "but only because I was afraid. Oh, I was so afraid, Erik, but not of you! I was afraid of how much I wanted you, how much I needed you; how much I craved your darkness, your genius; how much I craved for you to become one with me, and share everything that is wonderful about you with me, a lowly chorus girl.

You gave me a taste of you greatness with your music, Erik, but I want more, so much more! I want everything you could possibly give me!"

You rise so you are kneeling before me, and you place both hands on one of my knees. "Please," you plead, "please stop pushing me away, and let me be yours, completely."

I hardly need a moment to think. My lips are meeting yours, passionately, furiously. You throw your arms around my neck, and climb into my lap. "Yes!" you cry against my lips, a cry of pure triumph and jubilation.

My arms wind around your waist, pulling you flush against me.

"Erik," you moan, "take me now. . . take this innocence away from me. . ."

of course, comply.

A/N:)