Chapter 20: Those Three Special Words

A/n I don't own POTO. So, let's see…Erik's fixing the violin…Christine's having some girl talk with Meg…and what happened to the drunken and murderous Comte? Oh, and Forza del Destino is a real opera written by Giuseppe Fortunino Francesco Verdi in the late nineteenth century.

And, in celebration of 20 chapters;

Thanks You's:

Mouse: Thanks so much for your reviews. Never have you missed one chapter!

Loup-Garou: Thanks so much. I'm flattered that you think so highly of my story!

MyDarkAngelErik: Your reviews are so funny. I'm glad to have you on board as one of my trusted reviewers

Saloma-Kiwi: Thanks so much. I know it's been a while since I've updated, but I promise that the next chappie will be worth the wait!

MegumiSekura: Thanks for the reviews! I hope to see "V for Vendetta" soon.

LoveTheScottichAngel: glad to see someone loves Gerry as much as I do. See ya at PFN!

And that's just to name a few! Thanks to all my other reviewers! And now for the show…(P.S Erik has the same hair when unmasked as 2004 Movie Erik does. No, he isn't bald. He just has some thinning problems on the deformed side of his face. Oh, and he doesn't wear the mask around Christine in case you forgot.)

The moment she entered the room, Christine was immediately badgered with questions by her curious friend.

"Oh, Christine! What is it like? Living with him? His face, is it as bad as they say? Is he a monster? Do you love him? When are you going to get married? Does he want children? Is he a good singer? Does-"

"Meg, please. I will answer all of your questions, I promise. Just let me speak first." Christine spoke calmly, hoping that it would have a relaxing effect on her friend. Meg blushed a bright red, embarrassed from her juvenile behavior and having to be talked down to like a child.

"I'm sorry. It's just so….amazing! You, Christine Daae, married to the infamous Opera Ghost? Oh, well do tell all Christine! I want to hear every detail."

"We're not married yet, Meg."

"Oh, but you will be."

She flashed a smile. The idea of marriage with Erik was the most amazing thing she could ever imagine. Never had she ever dreamed she would be marrying her Angel of Music.

Christine then explained to her everything she had been holding in since her last meeting with Meg, when she had shown her the engagement ring Erik had given her. She was sure to leave out no detail, big or small, knowing that if Meg didn't get what she wanted she would continue to pry. Christine described how sweet he was, though he still did have a nasty temper occasionally, causing her "sister's" eyes to grow wide; she explained the romantic and touching story of his proposal, bringing tears to Meg's baby blues.

"I'm so happy for you!" She exclaimed, wrapping Christine in a tight hug. "Oh, and guess what? Jean has asked me to the Masque Ball!" Jean was Meg's new love interest. Christine could hardly believe a year had past since the last masquerade. The Opera Populaire had thrown these parties on New Year's Eve since it had been built. She shuddered at the memory of the previous one. Erik had made a surprise visit, introducing his Don Juan Triumphant, and making it clear to herself that she could not be with Raoul.

"Your chains are still mine! You belong to me!"

He had been so heartless and cold, his eyes not showing one bit of compassion that night. But he had changed. She knew it. She was not engaged to the man who had threatened her that night. She was engaged to a loving man who would give his life to spend just one more moment with her. Her deep thoughts were interrupted by Meg's shrill screaming.

"Christine! Can you hear me Christine! Christine!" Her eyes shone with tears.

"Oh, I'm sorry Meg. I was just…thinking. What were you saying?" Meg face still showed signs of worry.

"Are you sure you're alright? You just…wouldn't answer…and…" She was at a loss for words. A single tear trickled down her cheek.

"Meg, listen to me; I'm fine. I was just thinking. Now tell me about Jean." The girls talked for hours, and about everything. They chatted about the new clothing store that had opened downtown, and gossiped about Carlotta's new role in Forza del Destino.

When they had finally talked about everything that could pop in to their heads, Christine bid her friend goodbye, and walked down the deserted corridors to her familiar dressing room. She often wondered why it had never been reassigned. She laughed at the thought that Andre and Firmin had probably been too superstitious of another haunting to have it reoccupied. She stepped through the mirror, squinting through the darkness to make her way to the house on the lake.

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He had spent all day working on her father's precious violin. In that time spent on the instrument; he had removed the old finish, replaced the four strings, and completely redone the bow. Erik's hands were cramped and dampened with sweat from the hours of smoothing, plucking, and testing. He inspected his work with a look of pure triumph. Within a few days, it would be playing better than it had ever before.

Christine had yet to return, not that he had expected her to be back anytime before sundown. She had much to catch up on with her dear friend. He glanced over at the massive grandfather clock; 11 'o clock. Erik knew she would be back soon, for her curiosity was too strong to keep her wondering about his efforts on her father's violin. He waited thirty minutes for her return. Each time the clocked ticked another second, his eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Soon he could no longer resist his need for sleep. His recent restless nights had surely taken a toll on him. He walked over to the swan bed, dressed into some nightclothes, and fell into a gentle sleep.

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Christine praised herself in making her way through the dark corridors without hurting herself, as she had done on the rocks months before. She entered the lit cavern. It was so beautiful with all of the candles burning in the eerie silence. Silence. Where was Erik?

"Erik?" she whispered. She shrugged, figuring he had already gone to bed. Her suspicions were confirmed when she found Erik deep in a peaceful sleep in the swan bed. She stopped to look at him. His features were no longer strained from constant frowning. He looked so content. She allowed her fingers to trace the contours of his naked face; from the base of his neck to his hairline.

Eventually, she found her way back to reality, losing the hypnotic grasp that Erik's chiseled face held upon her. Sleepily, she made her way back to her own room. She and Erik had never slept in the same bed. He had provided her with her own room, probably assuming that Christine's religion forbid her from such a manner before marriage. She thought about this for a bit, all the while looking lovingly at Erik's features.

If loving your future husband was a sin, let her be guilty! She slipped into bed next to Erik. It was such a sensation to feel his warmth surround her. Careful not to wake him, she got as close as she could to him until their bodies were touching. Feeling his steady breathing on her neck, she succumbed to the darkness. Just before she drifted off to sleep she whispered, "I love you Erik".