A/N: Hey everyone; I'm glad you all enjoyed the last chapter. Thanks for all the reviews :) On with the chap

Chapter Fifteen

Oh, Christine.

I must know. . .

"Did you mean it, Christine?" I ask you after a long silence.

You raise you head slightly to look at me, spreading your hand out flat against my chest. "Mean what, Erik?"

"What I wanted you to say."

Your eyes widen with realization. "Yes. . ." you whisper, laying your head back down against my chest.

I scoff.

"Do you not believe me?" you ask softly, though evenly. "Did I not just prove it to you?"

"Lust and love are two very different things, Christine. One can exist without the other. Lust, most notably, thrives independently."

You sigh, seeming frustrated. "Fine."

But instead of moving apart from me, as I expect you to, you begin to place soft kisses on my chest. These kisses are worlds away from being lustful; they are tender, gentle, dare I say, loving.

"Christine. . .?"

You do not bother to respond, your lips still against my skin. Slowly, you move your lips upward, so they caress my neck softly. I close my eyes at the sensation.

I gasp and you smile as you transfer your lips to first my right cheek, then the left. Next comes my chin, forehead, and each closed eyelid.

You are atop me by now, and my hands automatically grasp your waist as you kiss each inch of my ravaged face.

Finally, your lips are upon mine, sealing the act. "Do you believe me now?" you ask, your voice coming out almost as a satisfied purr.

"Almost," I whisper. "But I must know, what did you lie about at Apollo's Lyre?"

You sigh, as if to say, "Still thinking about that?" but you reply, patiently, "I merely modified the truth, and said what I knew Raoul wished to hear. . . for the most part. I said horror is the only thing I feel for you, or felt for you." You brush your lips over mine. "That is not true. . . Oh, Erik, how could I not but be a bit afraid of you, though? Your incredible talent and genius. . . they intimidate me.

"But I know that you are no more than a man. . . A man who loves me very much, and who I love in return. A man whom I want to spend the rest of my days with. . . singing, talking, exchanging stories, and. . . making love." A blush creeps to your cheeks as tears gather in your eyes.

"Wouldn't you like that, Erik?" you whisper.

I reply, "I could think of nothing better, than the things you just listed in combination. . ." I kiss your forehead, and you sigh contentedly. "But please, just promise me one thing," I plea.

"Anything. . ."

"Never leave me."

"Never." You say this word simply, definitively, and I know it is a true promise. You lean down and press a deep kiss to my lips.

I wrap my arms about you as you bury your face in the crook of my neck, your breath warm against my cold skin. "I love you, Erik. . ."

A silence. "I love you, Christine. . . Rest now, darling, I know you are tired."

A small yawn, and quickly you obey.