CHAPTER 16

RAOUL POV

Waking up, I look around and see that Erik is no where to be found. Sitting up I panic. Then I stop, my breath taken away.

I look around me, and I see that the bed is covered in rose petals. Lifting one gently in my hand, I feel it's velvety softness and bring it to my face, the fragrance intoxicating.

Gently setting it aside, I almost fear to move, afraid I might crush the delicate softness. I then move to one side, looking around. On the floor I see more petals, carefully leading in one direction, a perfect path.

I gently get out of bed and find myself barefoot, but nothing else has changed. I smile at the thought of Erik making me comfortable, as I did for him not long ago.

I softly pad my way along the rose petal trail, careful never to step on them. The lead me into the main room and then to the table, where again my breath is lost at the sight.

A wondrous spread of food is there. A well cooked meal of fine meat and vegetables as a side dish, along with wine and a vase full of roses on the far side of the table. I smile and follow the petals to a chair, marked with my name. I look on the plate that seems bare, the meat and vegetables still in the middle of the table, covered to stay warm, and see a small piece of paper. Picking up the paper, I again read aloud:

My Prayer

Please... oh Lord... forgive me... I have sinned,
And I know this,
And yet you sent me an angel.
This angel has taught me to forgive,
And I pray that you can do the same.
The guilt I live with everyday is unimaginable,
And I pray now in hopes of forgiveness.
I have committed just about every sin imaginable,
And as punishment you sent me an angel,
An angel that loves me,
And I love him...
And he is the reason that I feel guilt.
I feel guilt!
So please, oh Lord, just forgive me,
For I have sinned,
But now I have an angel
To show me how to straighten my path,
And my path is so much brighter,
While my burden grows heavier,
Heavier with guilt.
I beg for your forgiveness.
Amen.

As I read the last word, a voice from the shadows echoes me, "Amen."

I turn, tears stinging my eyes, to see Erik emerge from the shadows next to me. I drop the note quickly and grasp at his shirt, pulling myself against him. His hand moves behind my head to comfort and hold me as my tears begin to fall.

"An angel should not shed tears like this," he comments.

"This angel has learned what love really means. The tears do not fall from sadness," I respond.

I feel a drop in my hair and look up to see Erik crying as well.

"And what about angels not crying? You say we shouldn't and yet you cry yourself!" I retort.

"I am no angel," he sadly admits.

"Then I am not one either," I stand straight.

"Raoul," he says softly, "you are nothing less than an angel."

I take his hand, "And you are MY angel."

His tears slow and I smile, kissing a stray one away.

"Come," my voice is controlled, "let us eat."

He nods, "But first, there is one more thing."

"What more could there be, Erik?" I ask incredulously.

He smiles that secretive grin and pulls from the shadows at least a dozen more roses.

He offers them to me and I gently take them.

"There are two dozen here," he motions to what I'm holding, "and another dozen there," he motions to the vase on the table.

"They're wondrous," I smile as I study the flowers, all in the colors or black, red, and white. "Though I think the black were more for you," I smile.

He laughs and I go into the kitchen, finding a few more vases to put the flowers in, before sitting at the table across from Erik.

I note, as he starts to serve the meal, that he is not wearing the bandages, the wounds simply scars now, but he is wearing his mask.

Politely taking what he gives me, I wait for him to serve himself before eating. I watch as he tries to eat a piece of steak, but finds the mask a little troublesome.

I look down to my meal and then back at him, "You don't have to wear that."

"I insist," he answers.

"So do I," I reach across the table and gently remove the bothersome thing, setting it safely aside.

He turns so that only his "good" cheek faces me, and I gently turn his face so I can see it all. I smile and rub my thumb along both sides of his face before returning to my meal.

He smiles and eats his meal with nothing hindering it, and seems to enjoy the fact immensely. I finish my own meal, and find it quite delicious.

I turn to him when we have both finished, "That was wonderful."

"What would you like for dessert? I have much more food now that I know how quickly it will go," he smiles.

"Nothing, I'm fine," I smile, taking a sip of the well-aged wine.

He sighs and leans back in his chair. I move to stand behind him, draping my arms over his chest and leaning my neck against his shoulder, looking straight ahead. He smiles and leans toward my head, the right side of his face touching my left cheek, through my hair of course. I brush the hair away and let our skin touch. He doesn't flinch again, and I know this time that it's a good sign. I smile inwardly and stand up again, my hands moving to his shoulder.

He doesn't know what to make of my sudden change of mind, until I start to lightly massage his shoulders. To this he just leans back and moans in pleasure. I lean over and kiss the back of his neck, just to be rewarded by a whimper and a shiver up his spine. Continuing with just a soft massage, I'm surprised to find his muscles completely knotted. He must have been working very hard to get these sort of knots. Or maybe it's just that he never really had anyone to work them out before…

Regardless, I start to press harder along his back and he kindly unbuttons his shirt, letting it drape off of his arms and onto his chair. I smile and work harder. I'm leaving his back a deep shade of red, but I don't stop, knowing that this might be the first time that he has ever felt this sort of compassion.

I work on the knots until I fear that I can go on no longer.

My hands drop to my sides and feel his arms wrap around me from behind and pull me closer, just so he can give me a peck on the lips, and whisper, "Thanks."

Most people would consider that not to even be enough for the work, but I consider it the greatest gift of all.

CHAPTER 17

I lightly brush my thumb along his right cheek and he whimpers lightly and presses his cheek further into my hand. Smiling, I cup my hand around his cheek and I feel the corner of his lip perk into a smile as well. I lean down and kiss his left cheek.

Life couldn't be more perfect!

MADAME GIRY POV

Back with Meg, I am brushing her hair as I hear a great commotion from the hall.

"Mama, is there something going on today that I don't know about?" she turns to me, interrupting my brushing.

"Not unless we both don't know about it, now please keep your head still," I order.

She obeys, but continues talking, "I want to see what's going on!"

I sigh, "It's probably just Carlotta again, making her usual excuse for something that has gone missing."

"Why does she always blame the Phantom, mom? I know that he does sometimes cause trouble, but he hasn't bothered anyone in so long!" she complains.

"Hush, Meg, you know better than to speak of him, no matter how kindly," I know that she only means good, but Erik is not always as forgiving as he should be.

I set down the hairbrush and move to the hallway, only to find myself facing Comte Philippe de Chagny, Raoul's elder brother. He seems to have been just about to knock on my door. I thank God that Meg and I are dressed still in our rehearsal clothing.

His hand lowers and he bow, "Bonjour, Madame. I would like a word with you, if you have the time?"

I nod and open the door, saving him from the crowd that seemed to be his admirers. He smiles and walks into the room, standing in the middle, tall and prominent.

As I close the door he is smiling, his appearance unwavering, but as soon as the door clicks shut and the lock slides into place, his features melt into deep worry.

"Is something the matter, Monsieur?" I question.

He doesn't move to answer, and instead starts with his own questioning, "Raoul has not come home for a few days, and I was wondering if you knew anything about this strange disappearance?"

I look at him in false surprise, "How would I know anything about the Vicomte de Chagny, Monsieur?"

"Please, Madame, I meant no offense," he holds his hands in surrender, "I only meant to ask if you have seen him. My brother has a strange affection for this place and I know that you are the one to ask when it comes to who comes in and out of here."

I nod, "Yes, he has been here, but I am afraid that I have not seen him here for a few days… that is, he came here, but never left."

He looks at me in real surprise, "Where could he be?"

"Maybe," my voice goes lower, "he is with the Opera Ghost."

I have no wish to lie to this man, and what happens between the viscount and his brother has nothing to do with me, but he has the right to know.

"The Opera Ghost? I believe in no such thing," he replies haughtily.

"Don't you, Monsieur?" I shoot him a glance.

"You know where my brother is," he accuses.

I shake my head, "I know where the Opera Ghost is."

"Show me."

So I do. Or I try to.

"Mama, you can't! He'll kill you!" Meg screams.

I raise a hand for silence and she reluctantly obeys, sulking over to her bed.

I smile at her back, uncertainly, and motion for the Comte to follow me. Pushing the mirror aside, I seem to surprise him, but he quickly recovers and allows me to lead him down the long, winding pathways. Reaching the lake, he seems to not be surprised, which is probably from stories he heard from his brother.

As we walk along the stone pathway, we start to hear voices, and one of them is Raoul's. This sets the poor man into a run. By the time I catch up, I fear what has happened. Erik is on the ground, bleeding, though not from his wrists, and instead from a head wound, and Raoul and his brother are yelling.

"Raoul! I have been worried sick, and you know how people talk!"

"That TALK is the only reason you came to look for me," Raoul's voice seems on the verge of tears.

"How could you say that?" Philippe's is close as well.

"That's all you've ever cared about, is that talk."

Philippe looks sadly at his brother, "No. I do act like it's the only thing I care about, but there's one thing that I care about more."

"Sorelli?" Raoul comments coldly.

Philippe shakes his head, "You, my brother, you."

Raoul looks down to Erik and kneels at his side, "Then you wouldn't have done this."

Erik makes a last ditch effort to raise his head to look to Raoul before passing out. I move to his side, and start to carefully examine the head wound before anyone says anything.

"He'll be okay, Raoul," I comment, "He might need a bandage, but it's not going to need stitches, and he'll be limited to what he can do, but not bed-ridden."

Raoul nods numbly and I watch as Philippe moves to his side, "I'm sorry."

Raoul turns to him, anger flaring, "Sorry! You think that you being sorry is going to help Erik?"

Philippe hangs his head, then kneels down at Erik's side, "Do you love him?"

"Yes," Raoul hisses.

"Then I have no place between you two, good bye," starts to walk off.

"What do you mean?" Raoul stops him.

"You don't love me," Philippe stops, then walks again, as if trying to stop himself from crying.

Raoul runs to his brother and holds him tight, "Don't say that."

Philippe shakes his head, tears falling to the floor, "It's true."

Raoul kisses his brother's cheek, "Never."

"I still have no place here," Philippe points out.

"I'll need help with Erik," Raoul suggests.

Philippe shakes his head, "I've already caused enough damage there. You return home, whether with him or alone, when you're ready. I'll be back later today to check on you both. Until then."

At this Philippe leaves, and so do I, giving the Vicomte a slight bow.

RAOUL POV

I move to my angel's side, lightly brushing some hair out of his face, into the one huge mat forming where the blood is clotting his hair together. I kiss his forehead just as he starts to stir.

"Erik?" I whisper, afraid of how sensitive the injury has made him.

"Hmm?" he replies, his eyes not even half open.

I sigh and kiss his forehead again, "I need to get you back to bed, you feeling up to being moved?"

He nods and I slowly lift him off the ground.

Instantly he pales, "That hurts."

I nod, "I know, but Madame Giry said it would get better."

"What happened?" he mumbles as I set him down on the bed that we've been sharing.

"My brother came, Erik," I start, "and he was upset. He pushed you so you hit your head on the table. He's sorry, and he left."

I watch as Erik's hand tenderly moves to touch the top of his forehead, where the hair meets his face, and he winces. I quickly take his hand in my own and hush him, kissing his lips lightly. He smiles and kisses back, with little energy, but a lot of heart.

I smile against his lips, him having broken the kiss lightly moments ago.

I gently brush some hair away from his face and whisper, "I need to go get something to wash your hair with and bandage up your head, I'll be right back."

He nods, and whispers back, "I'll be waiting."

I rush to get some water in a bowl and some cloths, along with bandages and gauze, but despite my speed, when I return, I find my angel fast asleep.

CHAPTER 18

CHRISTINE POV

As I walk through the corridors, practice having ended not too long ago, I watch as the Comte de Chagny walks my way, after exiting Madame Giry's room. I was headed that way in the hopes of finding Meg, but I think that I would rather see him. He is quite handsome, with some age to his features, like an older, more mature, Raoul.

I dart to one side, into the shadows and follow him. He seems to be mumbling something, and then I hear an unmistakable word, 'Erik'.

He knows about Erik? How? Is that where he was? Is that where Raoul has disappeared to, down into Erik's lair? His home? I must see this for myself.

Creeping back, quietly, to my room, I move to my mirror. Now, if only I could remember how to get this open…

After many trials and errors, I successfully manage to pry the mirror open enough for me to slip through. It is so much easier going into the room then it is to try to make it into the pathway, for obvious reasons I'm sure.

Walking silently down into the pits underground once more, I feel myself start to shake, and not from the cold. I shouldn't be coming down here, it is not my place, but I must know what my childhood friend has to do with my Angel of Music. I know that Raoul would not be happy, but I do not care, if he is unhappy with my presence, surely my angel would be glad to see me once more, right?

ERIK POV

Waking up, I smile at the pleasant face that hovers above mine, the face of an angel. I watch as a smile graces his lips as well, and I can tell that he is happiness, since I can feel the warming feeling build between us.

"How are you?" his voice seems to warm me from the inside out.

"Better," my voice sounds weak, like it barely leaves my mouth. I hate feeling weak.

"Alright, that's good," he smiles wider.

I reach up and gently rest my hand on his cheek.

He leans into the slight touch and then leans over, his lips covering mine. I smile and he lowers himself onto the bed, holding me close and kissing me deep. I moan deep in my throat into my mouth, completely lost in the embrace.

CHRISTINE POV

Finding my way swiftly and silently to my angel's lair, I quickly head toward where I hear noise, only to be stopped dead in my tracks.

I find in the swan bed, Raoul and Erik. Raoul seems to be straddling Erik's stomach as the two share a deep and intimate kiss, even deeper than how Raoul used to kiss me.

I let out a squeak of surprise and I watch as Raoul's head shoots up and then turns to look at me. Erik seems still to be in a daze as Raoul climbs off of the bed and stares at me. He doesn't hide the shock in seeing me here as Erik regains his bearings and starts to stare at me as well.

Erik turns vocal, "What are you doing down here?"

I answer the hostile remark with a slight jump backwards and then, "I just wanted to know why Comte Philippe de Chagny was muttering my angel's name."

"I am not your angel," he spits at me.

"Then you're name!" I start to advance on him now.

"You have no right being down here, Christine," Raoul says, standing at Erik's side.

"You're right," I answer, "especially since I seemed to have interrupted something important."

Erik stands, though unbalanced at first, "You leave my house now!"

"Do not threaten me!" I scream, unsheathing the small dagger that I have started to carry.

Raoul takes a step backward but Erik does the opposite, slowly advancing on me, "Don't you dare threaten me in my own home."

I don't want to hurt him, not until he leaves me no choice, and I let him know this, "I didn't come here to hurt anyone, I just came to ask questions."

"THEN ASK!" Raoul screams.

Erik and I freeze.

Raoul walks between Erik and me, protecting his apparent lover, "What are you doing here? What do you want to know? Yes, I've been down here, and my brother knows it! He doesn't care! Leave what does not concern you out of this!"

At the words Raoul draws his sword, prepared to defend.

I take a step back, his presence seeming much more threatening, "Raoul?"

He takes a step toward me, daring me to strike, "What? Are you afraid?"

I actually nod. I am scared, scared of him, of what he might do to himself, of what he might do to me.

He smirks, "Then run, run to the newest man who is cursed to have you hanging on his arm!"

My anger and fear acts as I lunge forward, planting the dagger in his sword arm, low, about the middle of his lower arm, and then gasping, realizing what has happened, and backing away.

The sword drops to the ground with a loud clank. I gulp and stand back as Erik catches Raoul, slowly lowering him to the ground and then taking his sword.

"How dare you?" Erik growls.

"I didn't mean to!" I plead.

"You could have killed him!" he screams.

"I'm sorry!" but it's too late, I watch as he raises the sword above my head.

"You don't deserve to be forgiven, after all that you have done to us!" he screams, and I cower further, trying to get into a position where this would not be fatal and failing.

"Us? You mean Raoul and yourself? What have I done to you both?" I ask, confused beyond all belief.

"What have you done?" the laughter that escapes his throat pierces your skin and rattles your bones, "What HAVEN'T you done? That's the question you should be asking. You have broken both of our hearts by pretending to love us both and then you come back here in hopes of seeing us, in the hopes of us both loving you still! You are naïve beyond all doubt. You think that we would forgive you for what you have done and call for you to run to one of us, with our arms wide open?"

I shake my head, "I only feared that my childhood friend and my angel were not hurting each other. I see that it is quite the opposite."

He flinches when I call him my angel and as he yells, his sword raises higher, "Stop calling me that! I am not YOUR angel! Not anymore!"

"Then whose angel are you? If you are not mine, I have the right to know," I start to raise my head, but the cold of his eyes forces me back down.

"You have no such right," he laughs again, the same chilling sound as before, "but since you have come so far to know this, I shall tell you. I am Raoul's angel now. I protect him now. I protect him from people like you!" the last three words are clipped, almost as if this has happened before, but surely not.

"And does he protect you? Like I would have protected you," my voice is soft, with plenty of control.

"Yes," this one word tells me that my time is running out.

"Please, if you are not MY angel, you are still an angel, is this not correct? If it is correct, that means that you would not kill me," I plead.

His maniacal, for there is no better word for it, laughter fills the room and I feel his next words like ice on the skin, "I am an angel that protects that which means most to him. You mean nothing to me now."

I know my time is over, as those words move against my skin, almost biting my flesh, I know.

Closing my eyes, I feel the sword pierce my back, then my heart, and then my chest. I feel a few slow gasps come in and out of my body, and then I feel nothing.

CHAPTER 19

RAOUL POV

I watch as Erik takes my sword, the wound sending me into minor shock, hitting a muscle and temporarily numbing my arm, but I know if I wait, sure enough, the pain will come.

I then watch as he raises the sword about Christine's head, and I watch as it implants into her chest. I gulp down a breath and tear the dagger from my arm, watching her last few breaths struggle in and out of her body before she lays still. The reality of the situation hits and I feel my stomach flip.

Turning away from the pool of blood that is gathering under Christine's still form, I make it a few feet before I feel my stomach lurch and I taste bile in the back of my throat. Another second and I watch as vomit splatters onto the ground, my stomach contracting and heaving. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I flinch unconsciously and as I do, the hand recoils. I frown as my stomach gives one more violent push before all I can do is gag and dry heave. I spit a little into the mess, trying to rid myself of the taste.

I watch as Erik kneels at my side, handing me a cool, wet cloth. I gladly take it, making sure I don't make contact with him as I do. He notices this and lowers his head, looking at his shoes.

"How could you?" I manage.

"She hurt you," he points out.

"YOU MURDERED HER!" I scream.

A sob escapes his throat and I ignore it.

He doesn't seem to care as he falls back, his legs unable to support him.

His next action takes me by surprise: "I'm sorry."

"What?" my voice is soft with disbelief.

His next words are choked with tears, "I'm so sorry."

I find myself unable to stay angry as his tears and sobs take over, and I use my good arm to pull myself closer to him, embracing him, and kissing his forehead.

"I'm sorry too," I whisper.

This causes him to sob harder, his face in my chest, crying into my sweat soaked clothing, only adding to the mess.

I lightly hush him as he cries, "Everything's okay, Erik, it's all over now."

"I only… meant… to protect you," he mutters out.

"I know, I know," I whisper gently into his ear.

"I never… wanted… to kill," he whispers.

"Hush… hush," I coo, rocking us back and forth lightly.

As he back away, I allow my hand to find its way to my bleeding arm, applying pressure.

"Let me see your arm," his voice shakes, but his body is controlled.

I nod and hold out the stab wound, peeling my blood soaked hand from the cloth with a sickening sound. I turn, my stomach performing more acrobatics, but I remain still as Erik gently lifts my sleeve, lightly pulling it away from my skin as he brings the cloth above the wound. I continue to look away as he traces his hand near the wound, causing a hiss of pain to escape before I can stop it.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, withdrawing his hand.

"It's not your fault," I look at his face and it's lined with worry.

"You need to get this cleaned and bandaged," he comments.

I nod, "Let me do it, you shouldn't even be up and moving."

He steps back only a little as I make my way to the kitchen. He sits in a chair as I run cool water over the wound and then turn to him.

My voice is hoarse, "Do you have any alcohol to clean it with?"

He nods and points to a cabinet, which I open and see is full of random drugs, including alcohol. I pick the alcohol up carefully and dump it over the wound, biting back a cry. He has now moved to my side, holding onto the counter with one hand and he keeps his other arm wrapped around my waist.

When I finish bandaging the still-bleeding wound, I quickly turn to him, "Do you need help getting back to your room?"

He blushes and nods. I smile at his innocence and gently pull one of his arms over my shoulder. Balancing us both, quite the task I might add, I successfully lay him on the bed before collapsing at his side, exhausted. He moves over, making room for me beside him, and I gladly take the offer.

Then there are footsteps, resonating from outside the door. I sigh and move to sit up, but he holds me down.

"Erik?" I whisper.

"Raoul, it's your brother," he comments.

"Yes, but still, I should go greet him," I gulp, loud, "we never moved the body…"

He stops dead and nods, releasing my good arm and letting me stand. I wobble at first, but quickly make my way from the room, and out to greet my brother.

When I see him though, he is just standing there, staring at the lifeless form that had been Christine. I sigh and silently move to stand next to him. He turns to me and the look in his eyes is that pale numbness, the type that steals the life from someone's appearance. I lower my head and stare a little sadly back.

"What happened?" he manages to keep his voice in control, but it's almost emotionless.

"She came down here, got angry, which got me upset. I approached her, and she drew a dagger, stabbing my arm," I hold the wounded limb up, "And in return Erik killed her."

He seems to move in slow motion, lightly moving to lay his back against the wall and slide down to the ground. I watch as his body goes limp. I sit next to him and start to hold his shoulders lightly, embracing him gently and rocking him back and forth.

"It's alright, Philippe, shhh, I'm sorry, are you alright? It's going to be okay, are you alright?" I whisper into his ear.

He shakes his head, "He killed her, Raoul. I trusted him and he killed someone."

"I know Philippe, I know, but he won't hurt me. I know he wouldn't hurt me, Philippe. He was protecting me, he'd never hurt me," I lower my face into his shoulder.

"Raoul?" his voice is thin.

"Yes, Philippe?" I turn to his face, tears streaking down mine.

"I don't want you down here, just you two, I don't think that I can trust him any more, not that much."

"What would you have me do Philippe? Leave him?" I scream.

"No," his voice is calm; "I would have you bring him to our home."

"Not until he's better, and even then I don't think it would be fair to tear him out of the only home that he has ever known," I complain.

Philippe looks me directly in the eyes, "Then I'll stay here until he is better, I would not have you alone with this monster."

"If he didn't hurt me before, why would he hurt me now?" I yell, tears falling harder than ever.

Philippe has no answer, he knows this, but he will not lose this, "Are you saying that you would disobey me?"

"I am saying that I would stay true to the man that I love!" I'm panting from screaming, and all I can do is drop my head and cry.

Soon I feel arms around me, pulling me to Philippe, "Don't cry, Raoul, please don't cry."

I look into his face and see his own tears swimming in his eyes, "Then you shouldn't cry yourself."

He laughs lightly and so do I. I look desperately at him, begging him to say something, betting him to let me stay.

"Raoul, do you really think that he would hurt you?" Philippe whispers.

I shake my head, "He wouldn't hurt you either, not unless he had no other chance, but he would die before hurting me."

Philippe nods, "Then I'll leave you with him for now, but please, keep the offer of coming home in mind. We have the money, he wouldn't have to lose anything."

I nod and we embrace before he stands and leaves. I run back to Erik, to find him staring at the opposite wall, curled on his side.

"Erik?" I whisper as I move gently to his side.

"I killed her…" he mumbles.

"Yes," I nod, "but you saved me."

"I killed her," he repeats, his voice trailing again.

I try to hold him, but he throws me away. I stare back at him hurt and hold onto him again, harder. He struggles to get away, but I continue to hold him tight. He finally stops and starts to cry. I hold him from behind, holding his waist with both of my arms wrapped tightly around him.

"Hush," I whisper, "hush. Nothing is wrong with defense, you did everything out of defense. You never have to worry about that."

"Your brother," he whispers.

"Is letting me stay here, Erik. Don't you ever worry about my brother, he doesn't like Christine, he never did, he was just thrown out of place, that's all, he just doesn't understand," I whisper.

I lightly run my fingers through his hair, kissing his forehead, gentle and quick every time. There is no reason for him to be so upset. Well, there is, but he never was this upset before, never about something that to him is so trivial, not something like the death of just another person. But once upon a time, these two people were in love, and I think that this may be the death that sends him over the edge. This could be his push into madness. My God, please don't let this be the push into madness. He has asked for forgiveness, is that not enough?

"Erik," I whisper, a sudden thought being all I need, "Erik, everything can be alright."

"Raoul, I killed her!" he screams at me, tears streaming down his face.

"Are you sorry?" I whisper gently.

He nods, his voice choked with tears.

"Then pray, my angel, pray for forgiveness, and everything will be okay," I kiss away a few tears, but there are too many.

He looks at me as if I sprouted a second head, "Pray?"

"Yes, pray to God that you are forgiven, and He will understand. He understands us all," I smile weakly.

He manages to pull himself from the fetal position he had taken and moves to a kneeling position next to the bed, with a little help of course. Then he brings his hands together and his brow furrows in concentration. I smile as he mumbles a few incoherent words, his mind seemingly not in this room at the moment. He continues to bow his head until he finally looks up and looks into my eyes. I clasp my hands around his and we finish the prayer together: "Amen."

He smiles at me and I kiss the remaining tears away, relieved that my angel's pain has lessened, relieved that he has finally gotten his second chance at life and is taking it to it's fullest.

Just as I kiss the last tear away, he grasps my arms and presses his lips to mine, and we drink deeply from each other's passion.

CHAPTER 20

I lightly pull back eventually, my lips still lightly touching his, his breath curving around my lips, tickling my chin. I smile against his lips and kiss him lightly again before moving to pull his body to mine, lightly kissing his forehead.

"How?" his voice is weak.

"How what?" I whisper back, into his hair.

"How can you still love someone who has killed? How could you still love a monstrous thing like me?" he pulls back, looking into my eyes.

I look at him in unhidden disbelief, "My angel, don't speak that way. You're perfect."

"I've killed," he sounds sick.

I pull him back to my body, rocking him back and forth as he starts to shake, "Hush, Erik, hush. You will never be less than perfect to me. You're my friend, my angel, my lover, and I could never see you for anything but the beautiful soul you posses."

He starts to shake a little and I pull him back and kiss him on the lips before he can say anything more. I try to wipe the terrible things that he claims from his mouth, from his mind, from his life. I try to erase his past so we can live in the present. There aren't many ways to forget a past, but there are some.

"Erik," I whisper into his ear.

"Yes, Raoul?" his voice is back to it's normal, seductive, self.

"How would you like to come live with me, in MY home? You could have anything you want, and we could leave all this pain behind. Please, consider coming with me! My brother has invited you, and I'm sure that we could find you privacy," I sigh and kiss his lips, "Please, please consider coming."

"Raoul, the world has been cruel to me. I have wanted nothing but to have a chance to live as a normal person. You are offering this to me, and you question my acceptance?" he smiles.

I fall forward into his arms, holding back the tears that threaten to escape. He catches me and smiles, kissing my hair and running his fingers down my back. I sigh in content and turn to look him directly in the eyes. I see his joy and his liberation, but beyond that I see fear. He fears this change, and I do not blame him. I wish desperately that I could comfort him, but what do you say to comfort someone that has been betrayed since birth by everyone he knows? Or, at least, the people that I know about.

I look him in the eyes, still, and lightly bring a hand up to touch his mask. He doesn't flinch as he used to, but I notice a twinge of doubt cross his face. I smile comfortingly, or hopefully comfortingly, and kiss his left cheek, remove his mask, and kiss his right one as well. He seems to relax, but I continue to kiss any ways, trying to kiss away the deformity that has condemned a wonderful man.

He eventually turns his head from my face and I take that as a slightly painful gesture. I frown and pull back, hoping to see the reason in his face.

He is staring past me, past the body, to the shore.

I turn and see Madame Giry, along with Philippe.

Philippe turns toward me, then Erik, "I'm sorry, but she had the right to know."

"Does Meg know?" Erik manages to hold his composure.

"No," Madame Giry shakes her head, "she doesn't know anything about this. Your brother has been very kind to her and I, and he kept her out of this."

Philippe nods and Erik smiles, "Thank you. Christine was her friend. There is no need to trouble her with that thought right now."

"Which thought," Madame Giry smirks, "That she would betray you, or that you would kill her?"

Erik gulps and she approaches, making sure that they see eye to eye, "You didn't do anything wrong, my child, you have not done anything bad."

"I killed someone, Madame, more than once, and this time I have gone so far as to kill a young child, or a child in my eyes, and a female nonetheless. I swore I would never hurt a defenseless creature again, and I have killed one, again."

"Erik," she hushes him with the word, lightly placing her hand on his marred cheek, "she was not defenseless. She threatened you, tried to harm you, and she did harm Raoul, and you saved him. You killed the killer and saved the innocent. You saved Raoul. You saved yourself. Don't tell me your sorry to have done that."

He shakes his head, "I would give my life for Raoul."

"Then do not be ashamed of killing for him," she whispers.

He nods and she drops her hand. Philippe approaches next.

He comes to me, whispering, "Have you asked?"

"Yes," I smile.

"Then I take it as we will have another coming to stay," he turns to Erik, who nods.

I smile and kiss Erik's cheek and Philippe continues, "Glad to hear it. I'll go back and prepare, and return as soon as possible to help you pack."

He turns to leave and Madame Giry says her good byes, leaving ahead of him.

"Raoul, may I speak with you for a moment?" Philippe turns to me.

I turn to Erik who nods. I lightly stand so I'm face to face with my brother and we leave the room in a civilized manner, though no one can tell how long that will last.

ERIK POV

I watch as Raoul leaves with Philippe and find myself to only be kept company by my thoughts.

How could I have agreed to this? Leaving my home? Leaving everything that I have known for all these years? I don't know. Yet, I love Raoul. My God! I would kill for him. I would kill an innocent to save him.

Christine wasn't an innocent though, she had harmed my beloved, and she would have harmed us both had I not stopped her. She was mad.

I look around and find myself on the verge of tears, knowing that soon I will never see any of this again.

RAOUL POV

"Erik seems a little worried," my brother comments.

"I have only just asked, Philippe, and you are talking about him leaving his home, which he loves, so suddenly. I would be upset too!"

"I understand, Raoul, which is why I would like you to help me with something."

"What?"

"I need you to help me recreate this place."

"Recreate? How? Where?"

He sighs. My voice had gone too loud.

"I'm sorry, Philippe, but recreating this place?"

"Yes! That's just it! We have extra rooms, and the basement isn't used now as it is. I need you to tell me everything that he would want, could want, should want, and I'll make sure he feels right at home."

"Why the sudden change of heart," not too long ago he would murder Erik himself.

"You love him, and true love is a rare thing, my brother. I would not want you to lose him. Besides, he is being forced through a major change, the least we could do is smooth the transition."

"That's about all we could do," I comment.

"That's the spirit," my brother laughs.

"Well," and then I start into a short, yet expensive, list of items.

Coming back to Erik is hard. The look on his face is enough to tear my heart out. I move to his side and kiss his marred cheek lightly.

"I'll miss this place, Raoul," he comments.

"I know," I whisper, "I know."

Running my fingers through his hair, I long to comfort him more. Pulling his body to mine, I gently kiss his lips.

He smiles against my lips, the smile hindering the kiss, but only slightly. He presses his body fully against mine and as we sit up, him in my lap, I lightly run my fingers down his back. He moans into my mouth and I feel myself react, heat instantly shooting to between my legs, where he sits. I smile as I feel heat build between us. He presses himself in full against me, his hips digging into mine and causing me to moan as well.

His breaths come in short pants, mine in heavy gulps, but soon we can both barely breathe. His hips start to move in a slow, gentle grinding motion, thrusting toward mine. As his hips slowly rock against mine, I feel mine react and start to rock back, my head thrown back in pure ecstasy.

I feel his arm snake around the back of my neck, his hand resting perfectly against the back as he pulls me into a passion filled kiss. Finally I can hold on no longer and I feel myself release, though I am fully clothed. Erik then pulls back and cries out, and I assume that he has reached a climax as well. He lightly pulls me to him and kisses my lips once more.

"I don't want to move from this one spot," his breath whisks along my neck.

"I understand the feeling," I moan.

"Will you stay with me? Even if we're at your house, will you never abandon me?" he looks me in the eyes, the worry back.

"I could never do anything like that! I love you!" I protest.

"I love you too," he whispers, his head back on my neck, "Thank you."

I can't see his eyes, but something tells me that the fear has disappeared.

CHAPTER 21

ERIK POV

Unfortunately we do move, and not too long after I lay my head on his shoulder and nearly fall asleep. He kisses my neck and that instantly wakes me up, a chill shooting down my spine. I smile at him and he lightly moves so that I cant stand and so can he. When we first start to move away from one another, a small line of clear, shiny line connects our waists. I blush madly and turn away.

He wraps his arms around me from behind and smiles, speaking softly into my ear, "It's a very sad thing when we are embarrassed by this after being with each other for so long."

"It's just nature, I guess, for me to be embarrassed… for so long I thought there would be no happiness in this world for me alone to hold," I turn to face him, "and then you came."

He smiles and kisses me gently on the lips before taking my hand and leading me softly toward the bathroom. Once there he slowly closes the door and grins when the door clicks shut. I smile as he comes toward me and claims my mouth in a searing kiss. I kiss him lightly back as he pushes my shirt off my shoulders.

Breaking the kiss, I lightly whisper, "Raoul?"

"Don't worry," he whispers, "we just need to get clean."

"I don't think this is the way," I smile.

He laughs lightly, "You're right, I'm sorry."

I kiss his lips lightly, sucking on his lower lip a little before answering, "Don't be."

He lightly lowers my shirt, un-tucking it at the waistline and dropping it to the floor. I moan and do the same for him, kissing his bare chest. He smiles and moves to start the water, each of us tenderly removing our ruined pants. I gingerly let my pants drop to the floor, approaching the water tenderly. Raoul has already gotten in, his body glowing in the light invitingly.

I climb in next to him, the water swallowing me into a shallow pit of warmth and comfort. Raoul moves so that we both have room to sit down, him leaning against me, his arms around me protectively. The safety that I feel is immeasurable and it's all I can do not to fall asleep, exhausted by the day.

"Erik, let's just get you washed up and in bed, you're not looking so great right now," he holds me out of the water as some of my last strength is drained from me.

"Raoul, please, I'm only a little tired. I want to be with you," I look him in the eyes, "besides, you have your arm to worry about."

He looks ashamedly to his wound, the bandages covering it only slightly, having been partially removed with his shirt. I carefully remove the rest and take a clean cloth, wetting it and lightly pressing it over the gaping wound.

"I'd feel better if you let me stitch this later," my voice is weak.

"I'd feel better if you had painkillers for that," he laughs.

I shrug, "I have some."

"You do?" his shock isn't hidden well.

"Yes," I lightly continue to wash the wound, "I happen to have some of the best pain killers around."

"What's that?" he seems almost worried.

"Morphine," I comment, dunking his arm under water.

The yelp of surprise is nothing to the reaction to my words, "Why would you have that?"

The question is a terrible blow. It hurts that he wouldn't trust me, but when it comes to this, he has every right not to. Most of his assumptions are probably true.

"For," I pause, thinking of the right words, "hard times."

"Erik," his voice trails sadly.

"I haven't used it in a long time, Raoul," I assure him, "not since that night that I let her go. Amazing to see the changes between then and now."

"It hasn't been that long, Erik," Raoul points out.

"It's the longest I've gone in a very long time," I look away from him.

He pulls me back into his arms, despite the gaping wound on his forearm, and lightly rocks me back and forth. Though this may seem like he's comforting me, I know the truth: he needs to comfort himself. I don't blame him, either. I will admit that I was close to an addiction with the morphine, but I haven't been using it long enough. A few years is all that I've had with it, and I never used as much as I did when I was with her before then. I also must admit that I didn't use it after the roof for many months. I had planned for myself to die with a withered and pained life to leave. I didn't seek relief from that, whether it was food or water. The only one that kept me alive was Madame Giry. She wouldn't let me die, she said it wasn't my time. I didn't believe her until now.

I let him hold me; I let him take comfort in the fact that I've actually been happy the entire time that I've known he loved me. I turn so that I'm laying with my side on his chest, my face in his neck, and he lets me. The first time he allows himself to show how upset he is, I'm moving to kiss him. He almost flinches away from my lips. I stop before they can touch.

I don't say anything, I don't move. If he loved me, he'd do something, but he doesn't, he just sits there, staring at me.

Anger and sadness flood my senses. He's no different then her, he can't accept who I really am.

Just when I move to leave, move to lift myself from this tub and forget all of this happiness, he grabs my wrist.

Through a constricted throat, I manage to growl, "Let go of me."

He notices the pain, but doesn't let go.

I jerk my hand out of his grasp, but it manages to throw me off balance and I fall into his lap. I scowl and force myself up, and as I do I am forced face to face with him.

He kisses me.

Catching my lips quickly, just when I'm at his eye level, he stops my ascent. Lightly allowing his hands to come up behind me, one resting on my back, the other on my neck, his lips move softly along my own.

Moving my hands to his shoulders for support, I find myself kissing back, lightly moving my lips along his, savoring each moment that we're together and regretting every moment that we aren't.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispers into my mouth.

"I can tell," I smile.

He sighs, "I shouldn't have been done that, flinching away from you. Something in my head was battling my heart."

"Which one won?"

"Which do you think?" he runs his tongue along my collarbone.

My eyes shut and my head falls back instantly. He smiles against my skin and gently nips. I hold back a cry, which is replaced by a moan. He lightly turns me around and with one hand massages my neck. I instantly start to fall asleep again, and he stops, moving me into his lap, his legs straddling my back. His control seems to be lasting well, but I don't think that either of us will last long like this.

I turn around and straddle his hips.

He frowns, "You're so tired."

"This will put me to sleep," I suckle his earlobe.

He moans and instantly the heat builds between us once more.

"You shouldn't bother that wrist too much," I smirk against the soft, yet firm, skin on his stomach.

"Go ahead," he offers.

"I never meant that," I smile.

"Then what?"

"A different way of helping you relax."

"Erik, no."

"Please? I don't mind. It's almost like an experiment, and I'm sure that you'll return the favor eventually."

He smirks, "You always were one to experiment."

I smile and lift him out of the water, setting him on the small ledge by the tub. He smiles as I take him into my mouth, the thought and feel intoxicating. Within minutes we are at our limit and taking the last dive over the edge. When my head finally is clear again, I instantly fall into the water, losing consciousness fast. I find enough strength to get out of the tub before falling asleep on the cold, stone floor.

CHAPTER 22

RAOUL POV

Quickly making it to Erik's side, I lightly run my fingers through his hair. He was exhausted and deserves the rest. Unable to carry him with two hands, a searing pain reminding me that I still need stitches in my left arm, I pull it close to my body. Moaning from the immense pain, I lightly kiss Erik's forehead before taking some towels and warming them slightly with some steam from hot water that I let run into the bath for a moment. Laying them gently over Erik's body, I lean back against the cool tub, slightly warmer with the fresh, steaming water.

I stare at Erik, for a lack of better things to do, as I dry myself with my own towels. A few times he whimpers, and pulls the towels tighter around his body, but besides that he is virtually silent and still.

His face, the deformed half exposed, seems in a state of contentment so I d not dare make a sound as I dress myself in new clothes, having brought them in earlier. He, on the other hand, had not planned so far ahead.

Allowing myself only to make as much noise as is necessary, I pull on new pants and leave the room in search of some clean clothes for my love. I do not wish to invade his privacy, but soon there would be no choice, seeing as how we would be living in the same house. I carefully open the door to his room and find myself once more in this terrible place that he calls home. His room is the only place that bothers me; it's the only place that reflects my angel's thoughts. Before getting some clothes I look around at the artwork. Many of the pieces have little color, consisting more of gothic styles than modern colors. Black seems to be a popular color, followed by a brilliant red that otherwise I have only seen in roses.

I lightly move some papers aside so I can stand in front of the piece that would be in eyeshot of the coffin from where Erik would lay. I look carefully at the details. It's a painting of what seems like the garden, only more at night. A subtle white glow is added to the dark reds, the darker greens, and the darkest blues. The scenery, though, is a bit different; it's missing the tree.

Quickly gathering some clothes, I make it back to the room to find Erik still asleep on the floor. I lie down on the floor next to him and wrap one of his arms gently around my chest. He responds by whimpering delightedly and nuzzling his face into my back. He does this in his sleep, only as if he were awake. How does he know it's me? Does he? Who does he think I am?

Questions like these buzz through my head as I lie still in my lover's arms, gently running my fingers over the rough, overworked, surface of his hand. They are overworked, in more ways then one. He is always so strung out, stressed from being over worked, and then when he finds free time, relaxation, he paints, writes, composes, and more! He doesn't ever allow himself time to just sit and rest; his hands ever busy.

If he comes to live with me and Philippe, as he has promised, I know that I will make sure he does stop, if only for a moment, and let these rough hands have a rest. Maybe then they will be softer.

Lightly dropping my hands from his, he doesn't respond and I don't know if he is awake or not. In a way I hope he isn't for this is one of those short break for his hands.

ERIK POV

I feel my arm being moved, and in my mind I know it's him. I can smell him, for after all of these years I have never really slept, I can shut my eyes but not loose my senses. I never truly am completely asleep. The gypsies taught me not to be. If you were asleep there, you were in danger. My thoughts slow when I am like this, but only to a subtle buzz, still moving incessantly around inside my skull.

I nuzzle softly into the warm flesh that is now in front of my face, unconscious, but ever watchful. I lightly sigh in my sleeping state and stay perfectly still. I'm not one to move much in my sleep, and he knows this.

My body takes in the warmth that is offered by the warm towels and the even warmer flesh that surround me. His hands gently trace down my skin and I can't help but smile, though I know he can't see it. That's the point though; I know he can't see me smile. I'm not one to smile, not in my sleep, and I don't want to give him the wrong impression, there is no one that I love more than him.

Waiting another twenty minutes, letting my body rest only long enough for my energy return, I move my hand higher up around his chest as my flutter open. He snaps to attention.

"Erik?" his voice seems exhausted.

"You should have slept yourself," I comment, sitting up and helping him do so as well.

"I can't sleep… it hurts…" I inwardly growl as he grasps his arm.

Nothing I can do now, though, but help him. She has already paid for her crime.

"Oh, Raoul," I whisper, calmly taking his arm and looking at the gaping wound.

"You said you need to stitch it," he points out.

I nod.

"Then go ahead," he holds the arm perfectly still in midair.

"I'll get what I need," I move to walk out of the room, pulling on the pants that he graciously brought me.

Gathering into my arms, I take a single shot of morphine, only enough to kill pain, no damage will be done, not like the amount that I take. That could kill a man. I then grab a needle and some thicker thread, what I use to stitch myself up if I ever need to. Preparing the needle, I turn around and see that he is now seated on the bed, waiting patiently for me to come back.

I smile and then turn back to my work, finishing and moving over to him.

"Give me your arm," I demand, softly.

He does and I find a vein close to the wound, sliding the needle in. He doesn't react as I inject the painkiller, and sighs when I pull it out.

"Raoul, that may dull the pain, but this will hurt… I'm very sorry," I whisper the last words softly into his ear before plunging the needle and thread through his skin.

He cries out instantly and I stop, wiping away the tears that escape his eyes.

"Shhhh," I whisper, wrapping my right arm around his body, my left holding the needle still in midair so the stitch does not undo.

He turns his head and buries his face in my chest as I continue, crying harder with every stitch. I long to hold him, long to take the pain away, and as I finish I cut the thread and move both hands to hold his shaking and sobbing body still.

"Hush, my love, hush," I whisper, his hands both come up to grasp onto my shoulders.

"It hurts," he moans out.

"I know, I know, its going to, but it'll be okay now, just take it easy and you won't have to feel that again any time soon," I whisper into his hair.

"Promise?" he sounds like a child.

"I promise," I try to sound as a parent would.

He nods, his seemingly frail body clutched to my chest, his breath whispering over my skin, his nails drawing blood, filling the crescent shaped indents where he has clasped onto me.

He whimpers into my shoulder and I quickly kiss his forehead.

"You should rest, Raoul," I whisper, "let's get you to bed. Lay down, it's alright."

He shakes his head, "I'm alright now, let me stay awake, with you."

"I'll be right here, but you need to sleep," I insist.

He holds tighter onto my back, his nails biting further into my skin and causing me a massive amount of pain. Please, my God, let my angel get a break. He's in pain, let him sleep.

Raoul yawns.

Maybe He heard my thoughts.

His grip loosens, "Erik…"

"Shhh, Raoul, shh, everything will be okay, when you wake up the pain will be gone."

He moans and his form goes limp in my arms. I almost cry with relief as I know my angel is relieved of his pain for the moment. I want to hold him until he wakes up, but I know I should get up, clean up the needle and the thread, so I do not scare him in his sleep or when he wakes.

I slowly stand, so as to not disturb the sleeping angel, and lightly kiss his forehead before clearing away the bloody needle and the extra thread. I wince as I touch the blood, knowing the pain that my angel felt.

Finally straightening up the entire room, I sit back at my angel's side and lightly run my fingers through his golden hair until he wakes up once more, all the while praying that the pain won't be as bad as before.

CHAPTER 23

RAOUL POV

I feel a small shot of pain before I even realize that I'm awake. I can feel the stinging of where the needle was, and I can feel the sweat that has cooled on my forehead. I probably sweated more in my sleep. I remember my dream of the stitching… no. It wasn't a dream, it was a nightmare. Dreams are pleasant; in a dream my angel wouldn't cause me pain.

I let one eye slowly open before confirming that the light isn't too intrusive and opening the other. I smile at the sensation of the hand that rests in my hair. I see my angel, surrounded by a halo of candlelight, watching over me in my sleep. He moves to take his hand away and I involuntarily whimper.

His hand stops, "Raoul, I only mean to move a little."

After saying this he quickly shifts, just enough to lay at my side, his head still propped on his hand, watching over me like a mother hawk.

"Did you ever stop watching me?" I whisper softly.

"You know I wouldn't abandon you like that," he kisses my forehead as if the action confirms this. It doesn't, simply him saying it does.

I nod, "I know, but you must need a break by now! Go ahead and sleep."

He shakes his head, "I'm fine, Raoul. Besides, we must start preparing if we are to go to your home soon."

"You don't mind?" I question, my fingers of my good hand lightly caressing his cheek.

He smiles, "Not if you keep doing that."

I laugh lightly and turn slowly to look around. I told Philippe what to get, what Erik wouldn't be able to move, and I think that I was right. I know that he would want a piano and his organ, though it would be impossible to move these. We already have a reliable piano in the house that could definitely survive Erik's abuse as he composes. I've seen him compose only once, he throws all else aside when he sits down with an instrument. Everything else was minor, but heavy.

I stand up and he instantly stands at my side, "Are you sure you're alright with this? You shouldn't be working at all with your arm."

"I know, I won't work, but I want to be with you," I turn to face him.

His lips quickly brush over mine, "Alright."

We walk into the main room, his eyes seemingly never leaving me.

"Erik," I protest.

He turns away, seemingly innocent, "Yes?"

"I saw you looking at me," I point out, scolding him, "and you don't have to worry."

"Who's worried?" he turns.

I wrap both my arms around him, careful of my injury, "I know you're nervous, but try to calm down. I'll be okay, and I'm sure you'll be just fine too."

"Raoul, it's not that easy. I've lived here all my life, or at least a good majority of it, and it's going to be hard letting go some of the possessions and memories down here."

"I know, I know," I kiss his cheek lightly.

He smiles weakly, and I brush my thumb gently over his marred cheek. I wish to comfort him further, but it's like he's losing a part of himself when he leaves this place. I understand that the recreation that my brother is planning is going to help him, but that doesn't mean he won't miss his home here. I understand the feeling. I didn't want to leave home when my brother signed me up for the navy. Hell, I was willing to die just so I didn't have to go, but that was only a temporary loss. I couldn't imagine leaving my home behind, whether my loved ones are coming with or not.

Gently kissing his neck before sitting on the bench in front of his piano, I sigh, "I guess I should let you pack…"

He nods and silently turns. A few moments later he starts to hum. I hear the angelic sound before I even realize that he was the one producing it. It's just like his voice. When he yells, it's still there, when he's whispering, it grows lighter, and when he's crying it becomes more desperate, but it never truly leaves him.

The humming is something that I've never heard before, a nameless tune to me, though I'm sure that it has a name in his mind. Maybe it's something that he's heard before, or maybe he's making it up as he goes. It's one of the wondrous mysteries of my angel, you never know what he's thinking, what he's planning on doing next, you just know that he's being mischievous somewhere along the line. He seems to have a bad habit of that, whether it's a playful sort of trouble making, or something deeper and darker, he never loses that sense of black humor.

Coming close to pick up a pile of music next to me, I feel his hand purposely brush over mine, and I hadn't realized he was that close. His touch resembles a whisper of wind as it slowly and carefully winds it's way from my middle finger's knuckle to the top of my wrist before disappearing. It seemed almost to trace the vein that rests there perfectly.

His movements, though, are not as fluent as normal, and I can hear his breath as his humming ceases. Lightly standing I move to his side and kiss him.

ERIK POV

I see Raoul approach, and yet the kiss is still a surprise.

The boldness behind the kiss is even more so surprising than the kiss itself.

He seems to take matters into his own hands as he lightly touches our lips, before graciously covering mine completely. He moans hungrily into my mouth, and the sound seems to leave his throat and enter mine, causing me to shiver with pleasure. Wanting nothing more than to stay like this and forget what I should be doing, I willingly submit to his hands as they rise up between this and lightly part my shirt, resting on my bare and sweaty skin. Longing doesn't take long to kick in as he forces his tongue between my lips and explores my mouth as never before. He acts like a child that has been starving for days and find a stale piece of bread on the floor, greedy mouth claiming it, but too slow for the insatiable hunger. Finally our lips part, and though I pant, it's not the same, nervous, sound as before.

"Rao-" I'm stopped by his finger on my lips.

"Now will you be able to relax?" he smiles and gently removes his finger and replaces it with his lips once more.

I nod, "I think so."

"Good," he smiles, "because I'm not willing to go any further."

"Scared?" I hint playfully.

"Tired," he admits dully.

I quickly catch him and sit him down, "I knew you shouldn't be up."

"I'm fine, angel, I'm fine," he whispers out on a breath.

"No, and you're going to bed, and staying there," I demand.

"Please Erik," the words tear at my heart, "let me stay awake with you. I won't move from this spot without your help, I promise."

I don't believe him, his nature would be to get up again if he saw me struggling… I know because I would do the same for him.

"Alright, my love," I kiss his lips before resuming my work.

Every now and then I'll sneak a peak as he willingly stares at me, letting me know he cares. I always smile and in return he gives me a greater gift than the kiss, he smiles back. His kisses are amazing but his smiles are perfect. His lips are soft with just a glimmer of teeth in between, perfect contrast, perfect beauty.

I willingly pack, knowing that leaving this place will earn me a lifetime of those smiles.

CHAPTER 24

Finishing, I realize how empty this place really is. It takes less than a day to pack. I would guess it was little more than an hour, maybe two. I look at the three sacks of my belongings. One for my compositions, one for my violin, some more compositions, and some less breakable valuables, and the last holds my fragile belongings. I carry the music box, not trusting that in anyone else's hands. The last thing to pack is my wardrobe, and that I will save until the last moment, only taking what is necessary.

I look over once more, and I can tell that my eyes betray my stoic appearance. His glance shows pity, and I know that mine must show sadness. I almost cry. He seems on the verge of tears as well, and I turn away, not meaning to be cold, only meaning to stop the tears before they start. He stares at me, even more hurt than before, as I see in the mirror in front of me, and I turn back, unable to stand the pain in his eyes.

"Don't be sad, Raoul, please, don't be sad," I whisper as I make my way to him, stray tears making their way from the corner of my eyes.

"I'm not the sad one, love," he comments, and I collapse at his feet, sobbing.

I feel his arms lightly wrap around my back, and his good arm pulls my head into his lap, both of his hands running softly through my hair. My tears run down my face and completely soak the fabric of his pants by his knees, but he ignores it, and so do I.

His whispers come in soft caresses, "Hush, my angel, hush. Everything will be okay. Shhh."

I bury my face in the valley of his legs, resting so I can just get breath around the fabric, and I sob into his legs. He moves to drop to my side, but I don't let him, forcing myself further into this half embrace.

"Angel," his voice is choked, "please, no more tears."

At his words I force my tears to slow, but some tears refuse to remain un-fallen. He weakly lifts my chin and I feel his hands cup my chin when I face him, his thumbs wiping away the tears that remain.

"My angel," I whisper, and he resembles an angel. Through my blurred vision of tears, his hair seems to make a halo around his head, and the area behind him seems to glow from the candlelight. All he needs is a pair of wings.

I gently take off my cloak and wrap it around his shoulders. They may be black, but they're wings. In a way the black fits, for my angel must have black wings from all my sins, but in a way it does not, for no angel should have their beauty stolen by a color that is so cold.

My tears refuse to fall anymore and I rejoice in the thought. The thought of an angel watching over me is all I need now. I would follow my angel to my death, if only it meant being with him every moment of my life.

He smiles and kisses my forehead, his soft lips brushing slightly against my skin.

"Are you alright now, love?" he whispers against the marred skin of my face.

"As long as you're here, I'm always alright," I smile.

He kisses my forehead once more before I sit up next to him, my arms tightening around his shoulders slightly, and my hands fastening the cloak.

"I can't wear this, Erik," he insists.

"Of course you can," I kiss his neck.

"But Erik…"

"What?"

"What about you? Where are your angelic wings?"

"I have no angelic wings, Raoul."

"Yes, you do," he looks me stern in the eyes, "Your cloak, the way it billows out around you… you seem like only heaven could have created you, even when you're angry."

He catches me. I have no comeback to this except to stare.

"Erik?" he caresses my face.

"What's the earliest you can get a carriage to take us?" my voice has gone back to the disguised tone that I know so well.

"A couple of hours, possibly, for a private one from our home," he answers with a half smile.

"Alright, I should tell Madame Giry what is to happen, and I will come back and wait with you," I turn to leave.

"Thank you," he whispers, as I stand and make it to the door with what seems like one quick motion to the human eye.

"For what?" I question, and leave.

My paths to Madame Giry are all quite short, and yet a little lengthy. I make it to her within a few minutes though, and stand by the mirror, seeing who is in the room. She seems alone.

"Madame?" I question through the mirror.

She turns to the mirror and I see tears staining her eyes. Maybe this wasn't the best of ideas.

"Yes, Erik?" her voice is hoarse with tears.

"I need to talk with you," I think and quickly add, "but I understand if you don't want to talk to me."

"No, Erik, I think we need to talk," she comments.

I open the mirror and step into her room, where she is sitting calmly, staring at me. The stare she gives me, that look that she gives me, it pierces my heart.

There is an odd silence that passes over the room, and she finally speaks, "I'm glad you told me."

I nod, "I expected no less. Does anyone else know?"

"Not yet," she shakes her head, "Though I'm sure the news will get out eventually."

"I'm sorry, Madame, I really am, but she hurt Raoul," her hand goes up to stop me.

"You've told me, and it's perfectly alright, really," she comments.

"Again, I am sorry," I hang my head in shame, for that's all I have about the murder, shame.

I feel her lightly touch my cheek, "Don't be, my child."

"I'm not your child… she was more your child than me," saying 'was' pierces my heart once more.

"You will always be my child," she smiles.

"Then you should know that your child has found a home," I comment.

MADAME GIRY POV

I smile slightly, "A home?" A better life?

He nods, "Raoul has invited me to leave."

"When are you going?" I gently take his hand in mine and massage it, hoping to comfort him and empower him.

"Soon," he states, almost in pain.

"Oh, Erik, that's really wonderful," I kiss his forehead softly.

He'll get his new life, his new beginning, the one thing that I've prayed he would get all along. He has finally had his eyes open to the outside world and he's taking the invitation.

He looks up at me sadly, "You don't care? You wouldn't ask me to stay?"

I feel terrible as I pull his shaking form into my arms, "Of course I wouldn't ask you to stay, but not because I wouldn't miss you, but because I love you, and I think that going with Raoul would be a wonderful life for you."

He starts to cry, softly, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have even thought about it."

"Don't be, Erik, don't be," I hush him.

"You've been like a mother to me, though you were still more a mother to Christine, and it's terrible that I would even think such a horrible thing about you," his tears start to soak through my sleeve.

"Shhh, shhh…." I gather him completely in my arms; sitting his thin and light form in my lap, and start rocking softly back and forth.

He cries into my shoulder, and just as I think that he would never stop, his tears slow and I kiss his forehead again. Then another knock on the mirror alerts us to Raoul's presence.

He walks slowly over to Erik and I, and I open my arms enough for him to take Erik into his own, slightly faltering with his arm and sitting back onto a chair. Erik immediately curls against him and I see how far their love goes in one quick moment, the point that Erik actually trusts Raoul is proof of love in itself. Now, the biggest challenge is if the trust is misplaced.

Erik's tears slow, and I move over to their side, "I wish you both a happy life. If you would visit every once in a while, I would greatly appreciate it."

Erik smiles and so does Raoul, "I wouldn't dream of leaving without visiting you, just to make sure you aren't in too much trouble."

I kiss Erik's forehead and as they turn to leave, Erik now walking at Raoul's side, I know that this cannot fail. I see it in the way they walk. They do not walk with one in front of the other, but at each other's side. They treat each other as equals, and they would not seem to have it any other way.

My adopted son seems to be happy with his new life, and knowing that Erik is happy is enough for me. This is the better life I could never give him; this is the better life I always wanted him to have. I smile at their backs as they disappear into one of Erik's many traps, but this trap is not like any other. He created this trap to be his home; he created this trap like a bird that enters a cage, no longer able to spread his wings to there fullest. But now this young man, this young viscount, has shown him the door and has coaxed him from this cage of darkness into the light of the world.

I can't help but let a smile spread across my face.

CHAPTER 25

RAOUL POV

I find it does not take long before I can no longer fight the urge to take Erik into my arms. I quickly turn and grab his wrists, pulling his body flush against mine. I smile as he leans against me and I smile more when he tilts his head up, inviting me to kiss him. Or that's what I consider it, an invitation. I don't usually get them free, it seems, only when he wants me to kiss him, but that's enough for me.

I lightly cover his lips with my own, and allow my eyes to remain open as his close. I want to see his face as we kiss, I want to see that light that seems to glow around him with happiness and disappear with anger. The light is brighter than ever, it seems, as his whole body seems to glow with the two of us together. I press him gently against the wall, just enough so that I can pin him and allow my hands to travel up his stomach.

He moans and the light seems to almost dim when I pull my lips from his. His tender face seems to move in slow motion as his eyes open to look into the cold world once more. I know the world is cold, and I know that from experience, so I can only imagine how cold it must feel to him. I want that to end though, I want him to rest, I want him to be able to relax, and so I try to help, and I do will all that is in my power to help for as long as I live. I will never leave Erik again.

ERIK POV

Raoul's body against mine is amazing, the way that he presses himself into me, and me into the wall. The kiss felt wonderful after all the weight that has been placed on my shoulders. He takes that weight away, as only he can.

My eyes open as my legs falter. My legs always seem to fail me when I see him like this, a smile on his face and his arms wrapped around me. I lean against him and he willingly holds me up. Still conscious of his arm, I lean more to the other side and he slowly lowers us to the floor. I smile and rest my head against his chest.

"What is it, Erik?" he whispers to me.

"It's nothing, Raoul."

"Erik, I know you, it's never 'nothing'."

I sigh, "Raoul, if you don't know why then maybe you don't know me as well as you think."

He gives me a hurt look; "Well maybe I just need to hear it from you."

"What do you want to hear?" I sit up, almost screaming at him.

"I don't know, Erik, I don't know," he has a sad voice and I instantly hate myself.

"Raoul…"

"I understand if you don't want to talk to me."

"I do want to talk."

"Then talk."

I pause, "I'm afraid of what they're going to think. I know your brother isn't too thrilled about me, and don't try to deny it. I'm more worried about the rest of them though."

"Erik," he embraces me and I hold onto him, my arm under his, my hand curled around the back of his shoulder, "there is nothing to worry about. I'll be there for you, no matter what, just remember that whenever you get scared. I'm here for you, Erik, for you and you alone."

I hold onto him more and he, though I think unconsciously, smiles.

I pull back only a little, just enough so I can rest my face in the crook of his neck. I feel safer there, wrapped in his arms, able to smell him and only him. His scent alone can relax me, it's not strong, but it's there. It's a very strange scent at the same time, one that only I alone could love.

He shifts his head so it rests near mine, his chin in my hair. I lightly run my fingers through some hair that strayed near them and he smiles and pulls back a little to nibble on my earlobe. I moan and then pull out of his arms.

"Erik?" his voice is hurt.

"We should really go before I change my mind and decide to stay," I urge.

He stops, "I don't want to feel like I'm forcing you, Erik."

"You're not, but if we hang around too long you might have to," I complain.

He stands with me and we quickly return to my home, grabbing the bags that carry my possessions. Sadly I travel one last time to my piano and then my organ, lightly caressing the old yet sturdy keys. I feel tears sting my eyes, but I dare not let them fall in the fear that they won't stop. I sadly strike one last chord that seems to reverberate everywhere in my empty home, and then I turn and walk away. Even as we leave into the dark pits that lead out of the opera house, I can still hear the last dying remnants of that wondrous sound.

RAOUL POV

The chord that follows us through the halls, the last dying note of the Phantom, pierces my body and chills my bones. Knowing that such a haunting sound could really be in the heart, body and mind of my angel destroys me. I long to hold him in my arms, but I know that there is plenty of time for that later. Right now I need to stay strong. I need to stay strong for him.

CHAPTER 26

Rocking a little roughly with the bumps and bounces of the carriage on the rough road, I watch Erik as he stares out the window. There is nothing in his posture that suggests anything less than a gentleman, but when I look into his eyes I see the child that longs to escape.

He stares out the window with a wonder and curiosity that could not be challenged. At the same time, though, he stares with an incredible fear. There is a sparkling shine that breaks the surface of his eyes in the harsh light of the moon that shines in from the window, and yet a shadow deeper down of fear.

I move across to his seat, sitting beside him and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. He jumps, as if suddenly aware that I've been here all along, and then settles back into my presence and tears his eyes from the window.

"You'll be able to see Paris at her best now," I whisper, as if it were the only proper thing to do at night, "any time you'd like."

He nods to show understanding, but does not speak, as if afraid to break the calm night.

I gently move the hand back to his shoulder, and this time he leans his head to rest on my arm. I smile and kiss his forehead, "Rest, love, we'll be there soon enough."

He nuzzles my arm lightly and I smile again, wider. The smiles seem to just tug at my lips, they are effortless to me, and I love it when they seem effortless to him, though they hardly do. I gently run my finger down his spine, only meeting the bottom of his shoulder blades, the rest of his back being pressed against the seat. A forced smile graces his lips, the curve slightly higher on his unmasked cheek than on his masked one. He insisted on wearing the mask in the carriage, though I assured him it was only us.

I move my hands slightly up to massage his neck and he turns to face forward, allowing me to have an easier access to his neck. I smile and move both hands to massage his neck, and then turn him to me and kiss him long and hard on the lips.

My reward: a pure smile. I can't help but kiss the perfect glow of his lips, the glow that only comes when he can give me a pure kiss, like the one that I have just received.

I long to hold him and never let go, but he look back out the window, a little less solemn and no less curious. He searches the streets and takes in the image of the outside world that he never gets to see. Soon, on the horizon, I can see my house and I take his hand and point to it.

"That, Erik, is where we are going," I whisper softly.

He stares for a moment at it and then turns back to me, shifting down uncomfortably, "It's huge."

I nod, "But you don't have to worry about that, most of it belongs to my brother, I only own half."

He looks forward, "I'll only be in your half… right?"

I smile and kiss his cheek, "You can stay in your room for all I care, Erik, but yes, you'll pretty much stay in part of my half."

"Part of?" he looks at me now.

"You'll see," I smile.

I keep my mouth closed the rest of the way. I almost blew it. I really need to learn to be less anxious.

ERIK POV

It's so large. I don't really look forward to living in a place like that. Solitude has served me well, and will always be able to suit my purpose. Such a large place must take a lot of people to keep it running, a lot of people to stare at me. That's all those people will do to me, when I'm right there. Behind my back they'll tease me and jeer me. Just like everyone else in my life!

Well, not everyone. Not Raoul.

I turn my back slightly to him and lean against his arm a little. He smiles and leans my head back against his shoulder. I smile and bury further into his shoulder, desperately holding onto him and longing to be held. His arms wrap around me and I know that he'll keep me safe. Madame Giry, as concerned as she seemed for my happiness, has nothing to worry about. My angel loves me, and that's what will make this life worth living. My angel sees me as a person, not an animal, and that makes life as close to perfect as it comes.

CHAPTER 27

When the wagon jerks to a halt, my stomach does a flip and my heart skips a beat. I cling to him tighter and a small smile graces his lips.

"Erik," he whispers, "I'm here, there is nothing to worry about."

I whimper and fall further into his grasp.

"Please," his voice is almost saddened and it pulls at my heart, "my brother is the only one that will be here right now, there is nothing to worry about, you'll be safe, and I promise you that."

I nod and slightly sit up, "I trust you."

He smiles and kisses my lips. I nuzzle his neck and then turn around. I stare at the handle of the door. Once this door opens, it's a new life in front of me, once this door opens there is no turning back. For the first time, I'm not so sure that I want a new life. Then, a single motion makes up my mind. I feel Raoul's hand lightly rest on my shoulder, and I know what I must do. I have to start this new life, I need to start over, and I need to keep in mind that I'm doing this all for him.

I open the door and swing it open, expecting for someone to be there to take me away or destroy me, but there is nothing but a sudden rush of cool air. I gain a little more confidence, enough to step out and take a deep, shaky breath. Raoul comes to my side and offers me his arm. I take it and cling to him.

The next thing I know I'm at the door to the mansion that may just be my new home.

I want to knock on the door, but Raoul covers my eyes.

"Raoul?" there is fear in my voice.

He kisses my neck, "Shh, I want to surprise you."

"I don't like surprises," I complain, still scared of what this could be.

He grins against my skin, "This is a GOOD surprise."

He opens the door and I hear someone shuffling in front of me and I hear his brother's voice, "Hello Raoul. Erik… welcome home."

Raoul, though, does not remove his hands from my eyes and instead directs me somewhere else. We go through two sets of doors and then we stop.

Raoul kisses my neck and whispers, "Welcome home."

With that he uncovers my eyes and the sight that greets me is heart stopping. The entire room before me is a paradise. It has all of my things that I couldn't take with me: a piano and an organ and a few other things as well. I walk around and slowly caress the objects that I have come to know and love and see how new they are and how foreign they seem, and yet, at the same time, they seem welcoming. I sit down at the bench in front of the piano and rest my fingers on the keys. I do not strike a chord, I do not play a note, yet inside my head I can hear my music buzzing around, waiting to be played, composed.

A few tears escape my eyes and my angel quickly is at my side, holding me, "This can be your room. It's right next to a bedroom where you can leave whatever you don't want in here. It's not my bedroom, but it's fit for a king, and would certainly be big enough for anything you want. I want you to be as comfortable as you can be, Erik."

I take his hand that rests on my stomach in my own and manage to choke out, "Then stay with me, always at my side. That's all I could ask for."

He kisses my lips from the sight and lightly sucks at the corner of my bottom lip, "Anything for you."

I look over to the corner of the room and see something concealed, "What's that?"

"Well," he pauses, "though my brother was against the idea, since you normally sleep in a coffin…"

I have stood up and now I hover a hand over the cover, then quickly tear it off to see a beautiful coffin with a silk blanket and pillow, not unlike my own.

"Raoul…" I barely manage to get the word out.

"Erik, you know I don't approve of you sleeping in a coffin, but if it's what you want…"

I turn and pin him against the wall and press my body completely against him, and kiss him full on the lips. He moans into my mouth and I pull back, with only enough space for a single sheet of paper between our lips.

"I wouldn't do anything you don't approve of, not anymore," he smiles and I claim his lips in a kiss again, wanting nothing more than to feel that smile, to taste that smile, to remember that smile.

Sadly, the smile has to disappear, and when it does, I pull back, leaving him still pressed against the wall. He rests his head on my shoulder and I pull him into a tight embrace.

"My love, thank you," I whisper into the forest of his honey colored hair.

"Why are you thanking me, Erik?" his voice is muffled by the fabric of my coat, but I know what he has said all the same.

"Because you have done more for me than any other person ever cared to try."

"I love you, and they don't… they just don't know how to love you Erik."

I smirk, "What makes you so sure?"

He smiles into my shoulder, "Because I'm special."

I laugh lightly.

He frowns at me, pulling back, "That wasn't supposed to be funny."

I laugh more, and in between pull him in for small kisses, eventually erasing the frown. He smiles up at me once more and I relinquish my grasp, letting him go free for the time being. He slowly steps toward the door.

I watch him with curiosity, until he turns and comments, "Aren't you going to follow me?"

"I'm a guest, Raoul, not a family member," I return, "I have no place following you into areas uninvited."

"You're wrong Erik," the look on his face pulls at my heart.

"And how am I wrong?"

"Because you are family now," the faintest of smiles appears and I have to nod, agreeing with his boyish charm.

I finally take a few strides and land myself beside him. He stares at me for a moment, pausing as one does when you take a long sip of a new wine, savoring every bit. I start to feel my blood rush into my face. I watch as his hand, seemingly moving in slow motion, moves to caress the left half of my face, running his fingers and leaving a burning line along my skin. Then his hand moves to the crease where the mask meets my bare skin, and my hands shoots up to hold his in a blur of motion.

I squeeze, not hard, but threateningly, with built tension behind it, a warning. I long to remove the mask as much as he does, but in a strange place, a new place, I would never dare do such a thing. He whimpers, but shows no signs of backing down, so I tighten my grip a little more. He finally lets his fingers fall limp, and I release his hands.

He quickly tears the mask from my face in a harsh movement, and even harsher is my hand reaching up to cover my deformed skin. I kneel down, an animal trying to shy from a punishment, but I feel him kneel next to me, I hear the porcelain of the mask clink to the ground, gently, behind him. He isn't going to let me have it back without a really good reason, or a really big fight. I don't want to fight, but I have not survived this long in solitude doing everything that I have wanted to do.

At first I allow a slightly pleading tone to enter my voice, "Raoul…"

I feel his hand come near my own that are pressed to my face, and I shoot a glare at them. Instantly he backs off, "I love you, Erik."

"No, you would know better if you loved me."

He whimpers again, "I love all of you, Erik."

I glance over at him, anger still in my eyes, but I know that there is more. I know what he sees when he looks at me, because I see pity in his face. He pities my fear, my self-hate, my solitude.

"Stop it," I growl.

"Stop what?" his voice is soft.

I turn angrily at him, tears burning my eyes, "Stop pitying me!"

He doesn't stop though, instead he sees my tears, my pain, and pulls me closer. I struggle against his arms, but he doesn't let go and finally I fall against him, collapsing into his arms.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his fingers gently caressing my face, "I didn't know that it bothered you."

"You knew you were doing it though! You knew and you never once thought it would bother me? Raoul, I have only known two things all my life: hate and pity. I can't stand receiving either anymore. I thought you would know that… I thought you could tell…"

He kisses my forehead, now crying a little, his tears falling onto my deformed cheek, "I'm so sorry, I thought that maybe if it came from me it would be different, I thought that maybe you wouldn't care, because I actually love you."

I lower my head and his tears fall harder.

I'm terrible to you Raoul, I don't deserve you…

I look up at him and gently wipe away his tears, "Please, Raoul, stop crying…" I manage to pull myself out of his lap and kneel in front of him, still wiping at his tears, "The only thing that you could ever do to hurt me is to cry because of me… I never want to make you cry… I love you too much to be able to know that I've hurt you."

"You've never hurt me, Erik," I kiss one of his tears away as he speaks, "scared me, but never hurt me."

I kiss his cheek more, tasting the salt of the tears that I caused, and holding my lover to me.

A few minutes pass and he is back on his feet, my mask behind his back, "Come on, I only want to show you my room."

I smile and nod, then shake my head, "Please, give me my mask first… please…"

He brings it in front of us both, looking at it in deep thought, "Will you promise me you'll take it off when we get into my room?"

"Anything for you, love," almost anything.

He smiles and gently replaces it himself, and then leads me out the door.

CHAPTER 28

As we walk out of the room, his arm in mine, his mouth in a grand smile, I can't help but smile despite myself. Glancing into what he claims is my room, I see that it is fit for a king: a giant bed, a giant wardrobe… maybe it's more fit for a giant.

I kiss his neck to hide my grin, and then follow him only a few rooms down when he stops in front of a door. I stare at the ominous door, no different than any other and different in every way.

Raoul simply turns to the handle and enters, I pause in the doorway.

He turns to me, "Erik?"

I look around and find the room almost an exact replica of mine, except they had painted mine a darker color, and this one has white walls.

He comes back to stand by me, "What is it?"

I finally focus on him and shake my head, "Nothing."

He smiles and shakes his head at me, "You can be a mystery sometimes."

"Am I a good mystery?" oh good God, he's rubbing off on me.

He laughs and nods, "I guess."

"You guess?"

He smiles, "You're the most wonderful mystery I know, sadly you are also the only mystery I know, so it's not saying too much."

I smile and he does as well, leading me into his room once more.

He gently pulls me against him as soon as the door is closed, and I watch as he moves so that his face is inches from my chest, his breath whispering over the top of my coat.

He grins, "How many shirts are you wearing?"

I give him a questioning look, "It's the night, and we were traveling, only my normal shirt and my coat."

He smiles wider, "Good," and kisses my neck.

I moan and he moans back.

"Won't your brother hear us?" I manage to choke out between gasps as he runs his tongue over my neck.

He rests and shakes his head, panting, "Not at all."

I cock my head to one side, "How come?"

"He knew we would want some time alone, he's in his study all the way at the other end of the house," I feel him smile against my skin once more.

I nod, and he lightly presses his hands to my chest, nuzzling my neck. I moan louder and he lets one hand slide up between us. My eyes flutter closed as his tongue runs along my jawbone so I only feel the mask being removed, and the cool air hit my face. The air does not stay cool for long, though, as heat rushes to every part of my body in one fast rush as Raoul makes his way from my neck and rains kisses along my deformity.

I whimper when his lips leave my skin, but I can still feel and hear his breath coming in gasps. I can tell right where he is, even with my eyes closed, and taking advantage of the pause, I claim his mouth in a searing kiss. His breath quickly halts and I run my tongue over his lips. He opens his mouth in a quick obeying of my command, and I open my eyes only enough to direct us back to the bed. Once there, never breaking our kiss, I push him down against the sheets and straddle his waist as it hangs off the side of the bed. I can feel how much he wants me, and I've known how much I want him, but still I feel the pain of myself pulling against my pants, pressing into him.

I break the kiss, gasping and he smiles, pulling himself into a sitting position and then straddling my legs over his hips, placing me in his lap. I cry out as I feel his fingers brush me.

He smiles and then quickly removes both my coat and shirt at once, and I return the favor. He then simply moves to remove my pants. No kind and tender moments as usual.

I push him down and remove his pants as well, and he is in seconds pinning my arms down, my back now to the bed. He smiles and kisses a long line down my chest, stopping just below where my pants line would be, and he moans, nuzzling my stomach.

My hips thrust at his moan, "Please…………"

He smiles, "Please, what?"

"Please Raoul… I love you."

He smiles and grabs some lotion; "I love you too."

The lovemaking is fast and harsh, my own body having twice as hard a time as his, my body more sensitive still then his.

When we are both finished, I have ended up on top, and I don't even have the strength to move to stop myself from collapsing on top of my love.

Raoul just smiles and holds me closer, "Rest, Erik."

And so I do, knowing that I have finally found everything I could possibly want.

RAOUL POV

At first I hold my sleeping lover, but soon I gently rest him at my side and then rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. My angel and lover has a beating heart, despite the dead sounding creature he describes himself as. I smile at the secret thought and gently run my hands down his stomach. He whimpers and shifts in his sleep, so I stop. I smile lightly again and quietly kiss him before standing.

I really hope he likes his room, with the black painted walls and his paintings hung on the wall. That's what Philippe is doing, or that's what he said he would do, hang Erik's paintings in his room.

I glance back at Erik and marvel at him in his slumber. He looks so calm and quiet and vulnerable. I guess that's what makes me love him, he is vulnerable and tough all at once, and would die to protect me, as I would die to protect him.

Maybe, just maybe, he can have that better life that I can tell we both have prayed for after all.

THE END.