A/N: Oh my goodness! How long has it been since I've updated this story? I'm so sorry! I'd give you the invitation to Punjab me, but then you'd have no author. To be honest, I'm still in a rut, with major writer's block. And I'm scared to make this story 'passionate' for two main reasons: One, my teachers and parents some how ended up reading it, and two: I'm afraid to get kicked off So we'll see what happens! Now where did I leave off…?

Chapter XIX: Question

"Yes, Erik. I will do as you ask."

Nadir seethed with anger as he slipped out of the opera house, unseen. Why had he agreed to this? He exhaled a sigh and stuffed his ebony hands deep into his coat pockets.

So, now what? Should he go to find them? Nadir took a seat on the Opera House steps, wondering just how, what exact moment, had Erik become his friend?

But his thoughts were very soon interrupted by the clomping of horse hooves on the Parisian streets. Nadir scurried off into the shadows, his black eyes fixed upon the carriage.

The door swung open, followed by an older man, who seemed to be setting up a wheelchair of some sorts. Philippe paused before pushing down the foot plate. He looked around uneasily, and then proceeded with what he'd been doing.

"What's wrong, Philippe?" A voice called from inside the carriage.

"Never you mind, brother." Philippe reached inside and offered Raoul his hand, then promptly patted the wheelchair for him to sit.

Raoul gave him a nod of thanks and then saddened as he watched Meg hop out of the carriage without the kind of gentlemanly help a lady deserved.

Seeing the expression of guilt sketched plainly across his face, Meg gently put her hand over the Victome's and smiled. "Oh Raoul, I really did have a wonderful time."

His features softened. "Perhaps, maybe another dinner?"

Nadir listened intently to the couple's conversation, from behind buildings. He watched as Meg stared down at her feet, shifting from one foot to the other. It seemed as though she was a little girl, daring to glance at a boy who she thought she liked. But, what she truly was thinking of was how to politely turn down Raoul's request.

She took a chance, and met his eyes. For the first time that evening, they sparkled with hope.

For a second time, Meg's answer betrayed her thoughts.

"Of course, Monsieur, I'd like that very much."

xxxxx

Christine poured Erik another cup of tea and placed the kettle on the stove for later. She returned to the sofa quickly, and took a seat directly next to him.

"I've been thinking," She whispered into Erik's neck, I haven't been very fair to you the past three days, have I?"

"I choose not to answer that." He answered firmly, taking a giant swig of his tea.

"I'm sorry, Erik. I've been acting like such a child. I still am a child…" Christine chuckled a weak laugh. "I can't even understand why someone would like me, let alone, love me, as much as you do."

At this, Erik placed down his cup, and drew her tightly to him. "What do you mean, my dear?"

"Well," She buried one side of her face into his shirt, "I'm so naïve, and…and I get myself into situations because of that. I just get so confused at times," she felt her eyes tearing and swore to herself that she would not shed another one, "I always feel I make the wrong decisions and I just wish…for one moment, maybe I could be as mature as the people around me."

"Christine…" Erik ran his fingers through her curls, "You have grown up. Believe me when I tell you this."

"Just because I was once blessed with a child, does not mean I have grown up. Being a woman instead of a girl means nothing…" She murmured.

Erik took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Is this what you wish to talk about? Christine, you don't deserve to bring upon yourself more pain."

His deep blue eyes shown with anguish, as she continued to meet his gaze.

"If I had chosen you those couple years ago, I'd be sitting here joyously with a baby kicking in my stomach, and that baby would not be Raoul's."

He felt numb. What could Erik possibly say to that?

…No, he knew what to say, because it haunted him ever since Christine had returned. It twisted his insides to the point where Erik thought he would surely vomit.

"That was a childish remark." He muttered, as Christine batted her eyelashes in surprise. He continued, "Have you ever considered of what the out come may be…if you…if we were to conceive a child? What would happen if half its face was, literally my dear, the face of an angel, and half…" He slowly placed his left hand to the mask which still obscured his misshapen self. "The torment he or she would face…the cruelty which is so strongly harbored in this world!"

Christine took his face in her hands. "Do you honestly think I would care? I love you…" She slowly took the corner and removed the mask, "…because of you, and not what your outer appearance may be. What makes our child, should we have one, any different? Please Erik, don't think such things!" She then started tenderly kissing each part of his deformed face, careful not to miss one inch of a spot. Christine noticed Erik's cheeks were wet, and wasn't sure if that was from his tears, or her own. They mingled together, and dripped from each others faces. Before the other one knew it, they were sharing a lover's kiss, a passionate kiss, which set an awakening, burning fire in the soul. Oh, thank god. Christine was afraid she would never be able to rekindle it.

They parted, but reluctantly and only because the average human being needs to breathe in order to continue living.

"I'm yours," Christine smiled shyly, flushed. "I belong to you…"

"Christine! I have you! I finally have you!" He gasped through his sobs, holding her tighter.

"…Erik?"

"Yes, mon ange?" He replied, feverishly giving her kisses.

"Will you marry me?"

xxxxx

WOW! I finished this chapter, even though I had writer's block!

Erik: ….

Christine: Erik? Is something the matter?

Erik: …It's so beautiful! (holds me in a tight embrace)

Christine: (muttering while blushing immensely) I have to write an Erik/OC…

Erik: Review, my friends!