Alright, now I haven't really been doing review responses, but I thought I would take the time to respond to this one, since she obviously begged for it.

Tathiela - So you don't even bother to read it before completely flaming me? I had the decency to read your entire little rant, so listen up. I never said which version this story was based on. For you information, it is mostly based on the 2004 film, keeping in mind that Gerard Butler was in that. Now, it is quite obvious to most people that Gerard Butler happens to be a very handsome man. Judging from your profile, you seem to think so as well. The deformity in the movie was not nearly as bad as it was made out to be, I found it hard to believe that Christine really thought him a monster only because of his deformity.God forbid someone finds Erik handsome! I know I am not the only author on this site to describe him as such, so I don't know why you even bother pointing this out. In describing him, I gave him a slight tan as to not be entirely pasty. I have never read the book and any use of the name Phillipe is pure coincidence. Phillipe is a french name and the setting happens to be in France, so is it some wonder that I apparently am not able to use the name Phillipe in my own fanfiction? Even if Raoul's brother died, he was never mentioned in the movie. I believe his parents were still alive in that one, and are in this fiction. Which would mean that Raoul and Christine are indeed the Vicomte and Vicomtess de Changy. As for your problem with the plot... Yes that part is a little weak right now, but that's only because I'm building up to a few plot twists before a final twist that makes you rethink the entire fiction. So there are the answers to your little criticisms. Feel free to stop reading for fear of something not being exactly as it was in the book.

To all my other reviewers - Thanks a lot. It's really nice to see all the reviews in my inbox and that you are all enjoying this. Stick around, it'll get a lot better soon!

You Were All That Mattered
Chapter V

Christine snuggled deeper into the velvet warmth that surrounded her. She was very warm and comfortable, having had the best sleep of her life. Wait... her bed at home was silk, not velvet. Where was she?

She opened her eyes. Glancing at her surroundings, she realized she was in her bed in Erik's lair. Oh how she had missed it! Her room was the exact same as it had been; it was as if no one had dared entered since she had left. But of course Erik wouldn't have gone in here. Just as Erik was entering her thoughts, he entered her room with a tray.

"Christine! You're awake! How are you feeling, little sparrow?" his beautiful voice was tender and concerned.

"Much better," she replied, blushing under his stare.

He smiled at that. "I'm glad. Here, drink this. It'll help the headache".

He handed her a cup, which she drank enthusiastically. He smiled as he settled himself next to her, lost in his thoughts, one hand unconsciously stroking her curls.

She smiled and set her cup down on the nightstand, feeling absolutely content. Mon Dieu, she thought, it has been a long time since I have felt this happy!

Suddenly it all flowed back to her.

"Erik!" she exclaimed, startling him from his thoughts. "What happened to Raoul? You didn't kill him did you? Please say you didn't kill him, I don't know if I can handle that on my conscious..." she turned to him, eyes wide.

"No, my dear," he said, gently massaging her shoulder. "I did not kill him, though he deserved it. I just taught him a little lesson. He should be waking up from a nice sleep right about now." He chuckled, remembering how he had left the Vicomte in the secret tower.

"Oh Erik, thank you for rescuing me. Now you're my handsome knight in shining armor!" she squealed excitedly.

"I am hardly a knight, Madame, much less handsome," his tone was somber and he seemed to be brooding.

"Au contraire, Monsieur," she whispered, bringing his mouth to hers.

And after a lovely afternoon of talking, teasing, and 'making up', Erik and Christine fell asleep peacefully in each other's arms, completely oblivious to the angry crowd making its way to the bottom levels of the Opera House.