A/N: A LONG chapter -gasp- You must be joking... :P No, seriously, this thing is about half as long as every other chapter combined... Anyone care to guess as to what my favorite song is?

Oh, and there were a few spelling errors in the first draft of this chapter (Silly me -slaps head- That's what I get for not spell-checking!) so I had to re-post it. Sorry for any inconveniences... ;) -offers a variety of baked goods-

Disclaimer: -continues laughing hysterically-

She deserved an explanation. Throughout our descent into the dark, dreary vaults of the Opera, Christine's eyes had widened in a vast span of emotions, from adoration to incredulity to terror and everything in between. Now she sat, still agape, her chin tilted slightly to the side. Her eyes were now filled with an odd combination of the aforementioned emotions- she didn't know what to think any more.

To be honest, neither did I.

My heart hammered viciously in my chest, threatening to burst from its prison with one single word from those perfect lips. Luckily, she remained silent, waiting for me to do or say something... anything...

But I was momentarily paralyzed. The flickering candlelight illuminated her chestnut curls, highlighting them in an ironic likeness to a halo. She and I seemed to be trading the role of angel, but it was blatantly obvious which of the two more deserved the title.

I was in love.

The thought hit me like a blow to the stomach, forcing me to turn my back to her. No... no, it couldn't be. I could not allow myself to love such a creature... a beautiful, untarnished creature of light. She was merely my pupil, a tool with which I could prove to those ignorant pigs of Parisian aristocracy that even the Devil's Child himself could create something of unparalleled beauty.

But even in my head the lie sounded empty. I had adored Christine Daaé since the moment I first heard her sing. But the small, frightened child that I had taken under my wing had blossomed into a woman, and my affections had developed accordingly. I could no longer deny it, even to myself.

Breathing heavily, I turned and met her eyes once more. This time, I did not let them go.

I have brought you

To the seat of sweet music's throne

To this kingdom where all must pay homage to music...

Music...

You have come here

For one purpose and one alone

Since the moment I first heard you sing

I have needed you with me to serve me, to sing for my music...

My music...

I recognized the desperation and possessiveness that had crept, unbidden, into my voice. It was subconscious, I suppose; I had never really owned anything of great worth or importance, and now that I had Christine within my grasp, I would have taken death over letting her slip away from me. Especially to that troublesome vicomte, whose very existence threatened our budding relationship. My every last hope for companionship and an end to my desolate loneliness rested in Christine. The pressure was all-encompassing; she needed to want me... or at the very least, want the lessons and resulting fame that her Angel provided. Either way she could learn to love me as I loved her with time. I would see to that.

But curse these venomous lips, for I had frightened her again. She was bewildered, scared speechless by that very possessive vigor which I could not control any more than my love for her. An awkward silence ensued, and I attempted to soften my expression and tone. Perhaps a different song... a lullaby... assuring her of her safety within this dark cellar...

Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation

Darkness stirs and wakes imagination

Silently the senses abandon their defenses

I allowed the last note to drift slowly into silence. My plan had worked; the fear began to drain from those chocolate brown pools in ebbing waves, replaced with the calm, content, expectant look that had become custom whenever I sang to her. I could almost see my transition in her eyes from the Phantom of the Opera back to her Angel of Music. I much preferred it that way. With a tender smile, I extended my hand to her, and helped her from the boat.

Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor

Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender

She was once again under my spell of music, her eyes locked with mine as I gently led her backwards. The enchantment was broken momentarily as the shadow of a frown crinkled her brow, and she glanced worriedly over her shoulder. I reached up an ebony gloved hand and gently tilted her face back towards my own, my eyes softening in reassurance.

Turn your face away from the garish light of day

Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light

And listen to the music of the night

There would be no more interruptions or second thoughts; I could see it in her eyes. Confident in my power over her, I released her hands and continued to back up slowly, allowing her to enter my home and look at my models and drawings, the topic of which was solitary and hopefully flattering. She smiled genuinely up at me as I continued our quiet, comforting lullaby.

Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams

Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before

Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar...

She did so, affirming completely the authority that my words had over her. For her benefit (and I must admit, I might have been showing off just a bit), I held out the note, letting it swell and fill the cavernous room before cutting it off abruptly. As I did so, her eyes rolled slightly in awe, and she opened them with an incredulous smile.

And you'll live as you've never lived before.

I began to circle my organ, the words pouring from the very depths of my soul and into her own.

Softly, deftly, music shall caress you

Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you

Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind

In this darkness that you know you cannot fight

The darkness of the music of the night

Suddenly my voice swelled with power, but she was no longer afraid; her eyes shone with a deep reverence greater than she'd ever displayed before.

Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world

Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before

Let your soul take you where you long to be

I stepped toward her, trembling fervently, and lightly cupped her chin with my fingertips. I waited for her to scream or pull away as everyone always did, bracing myself for the worst. But Christine did not scream, nor did her delicate features contort in repulsion. She closed her eyes and smiled softly, and -did I imagine it?- nuzzled my palm with her cheek. Tears of relief flooded my eyes, and I was suddenly sure of one thing: I could no longer live without Christine Daaé. My voice trembled, threatening to break, as she opened those beautiful brown eyes and stared lovingly into my own.

Only then can you belong to me...

Encouraged by her silent consent, I turned her gently and pressed my abdomen to the small of her back, taking her hands in mine. I buried my face in her curls, inhaling the sweet scent of rosebuds and sunshine and soap that was unique to her alone.

Floating, falling, sweet intoxication,

Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation

I brought her hand up to caress my left cheek, whispering the lyrics as her touch sent a wave of radiant warmth coursing throughout my body. She looked up at me with adoration, but suddenly it glazed over with curiosity as she remembered the mask and wondered at the secret it concealed. Hesitantly I broke away from her, trying to divert her attention back to the song. With one last gallant effort, I delved into the song with a vibrant power that caused her precious lips to fall open once more.

Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in

To the power of the music that I write

I beckoned for her to follow me, and she did so obediently. It was time for her to finally understand my true intentions for this little rendezvous.

The power of the music of the night

I pulled back the crimson curtain that concealed a small, closet-like space. In the center of the room was a wax figure- an exact replica of my beautiful Christine. I had spent months perfecting every fine detail, right down to the color of the glass eyes. Every freckle, every eyelash, was exactly identical to the woman who now stared at it in disbelief.

The mannequin was clad in an elaborately embroidered wedding dress and matching veil: wordlessly, I had revealed my plan to her- the rest was up to Christine.

Upon looking back at it, perhaps it was a bit much.

A split second later, Christine had collapsed, unconscious, into my arms. I scooped her up easily- she was very light- and swept her off to the room I had prepared for her. Gently, reverently, I laid her on the swan-shaped bed which I had found in an abandoned prop room some years ago. I brought my lips close to her forehead, but thought better of it; if I were ever to kiss her, I wanted it to be with her consent. I remained close to her, however, singing softly into her ear.

You alone can make my song take flight

Reluctantly, I pulled away, grasping the cord that lowered the black lace curtain around her bed. She had been through quite a lot throughout the past day, from auditioning and winning the leading role in Hannibal to meeting her mysterious tutor. The poor child needed her rest.

Help me make the music of the night.

Hence, with one last adoring glance and the end of our lullaby, I left her to a peaceful sleep.