New chapter! Just in time, too. It's off to Deutschland for me tomorrow! yay! Thanks to everyone for the new reviews:

Masked and Forrgottten: Yay! thanks for the pizza. It might be a little moldy by now though...

RowanMayfair13: I updated! glücklicher Tag!

DracosDiva:Ooooo. Maybethats why spell check kept telling meI was spelling it wrong...

Disclaimer:Ich nicht besitzen das Phantom der Oper (oh snap! its in german! what now!)
Chapter 7

Christine walked down the cobblestone street, squinting in the glare or the sun to try and see the small, gold numbers that labeled each house. Indeed, her reason had lost to curiosity and she had followed the address Erin gave her to a suburb just outside of Paris. Most of the houses she had seen so far were fairly big and Christine was surprised that a man who had lived in solitude his whole life could afford something like this.

The night before, Christine had devised a plan to get out of the house as low key as possible so that Raoul (A/N:) ) would not ask her where she was going. I hadn't mattered though; Raoul was gone by the time she had woken up. She adjusted her sun hat and continued walking. She kind of wished he had woken her up and said good bye.

Christine strode up to the last house at the end of the street. The number along side its door matched the number on the paper. Looking up at the house, she marveled at how nice it was. All the windows were open as well as the double French doors that led to a balcony on second floor to let in the pleasant summer breeze that swept up the street. In every window she could see curtains fluttering, and for some reason they gave her an odd feeling. She never thought that the man she knew as a phantom would have curtains in his house. Then again, she never thought the phantom would have a house. She checked the paper again to see if she had made a mistake, but then she heard something that told her right away that this was the right house.

From one of the windows on the second floor, the soft tinkling of piano keys could be heard. Christine froze as the familiar melody washed over her. Think of me, think of me fondly…she was hearing the first song she had ever sang at the opera. She fought back a wave of sadness as she recalled her days at the opera. Those were some of the happiest days of her life. Memories popped up in her head, of the phantom coaching her from behind the mirror in her dressing room exactly how to hit the right notes of the song. She remembered how his voice echo through the room, commenting on how La Carlotta would have her hands full when he finally brought Christine to the stage. Christine shook her head and regained the awareness of where she was. Slowly, she walked up to the front door and banged the bronze knocker three times.

It took a moment, but soon the door was thrown open. Standing there was not the phantom, as Christine had expected, but Erin. The girls face lit up as she saw Christine standing there and she exclaimed "Ms. Daae! And what perfect timing too! I just put some tea biscuits in the oven. Come in. Can I take your hat? I'm so happy you decided to come. He'll be thrilled. He was rather disappointed yesterday when I told him that you declined, but now you're here anyway." Christine was still standing outside, a bit taken aback by the high energy the girl was suddenly showing. "Um…"

"Are you coming in?" Erin asked as she turned and walked into the foyer. Christine took off her hat and followed her. She handed the hat to Erin. "Nice hat." She commented as she admired the fake flowers along the brim, "I'll just go put this away and tell him that you've come." With that she tucked the hat under her arm and hurried quickly up the staircase behind her, leaving Christine in the hallway alone.

She looked around, admiring the splendor of the house. It wasn't as big as Raoul's, but it was just as nice. The hall was carpeted with an elaborate oriental rug and the stair case was made of a dark mahogany. Her eyes traveled up the stairs to the second floor. Suddenly, something on the ceiling above her caught her eye. She fully tilted her head upward and stared. Right above her was a large, beaded chandelier that swayed slightly in the breeze that wafted through the house. Oh jeez…thought Christine. The irony was almost too much.

"Christine?" she spun back around to face the stairs. Standing at the bottom of the staircase was the Phantom. At the sight of him, Christine could have sworn her heart stopped. While that probably didn't happen, her breath defiantly did. Almost instinctively, she felt her eyes connect with his. She could see that he was just as surprised to see her as she was him. He was just as she remembered him. His dark hair was slicked back and he wore the same, white, half-mask he had worn the last night she saw him. He was pretty much dressed the same too, a white shirt and black trousers. Yet, even though he looked the same, there was something different about his presence. She couldn't put her finger on it, but it was defiantly there.

It took her a moment, but Christine realized that they were both just staring at the other. Say something, moron. "Hello." Smooth.

"I didn't think you'd come." He said. "Erin told me you had declined."

"I...I did." She stuttered, "But I…um…changed my mind." Great. Just great.

He nodded and they both fell into silence again (A/N: I hate awkward situations. Just thought I'd let you know. Ok, moving on…).

"Thank you for inviting me, Ang…" but Christine broke off and bit her lip. Crap. She was about to call him Angel. That's all she had ever known him by.

He gave her a confused look. He opened his mouth to say something, but then realization hit. He let out a slow breath and said "I never told you my real name, did I?"

Embarrassed at herself, Christine slowly shook her head. Just as the situation seemed that it would become even more awkward, Erin came flying back down the stairs, narrowly avoiding colliding with the man standing at the bottom. She gave both of them a smile and then announced, "The biscuits and tea should be ready in a minute. Would you like to sit on the terrace? It's a gorgeous day outside."

The phantom nodded and Erin literally zoomed back to the kitchen. He smiled as the door closed and then turned back to Christine. "Follow me". He motioned to a door on his left. The two walked through the door, which lead to a library. From the library, they went trough a double French door, which lead them to a garden. Christine breathed in the heavily perfumed air and felt a little more relaxed. The man next to her motioned to a small wrought iron table and the two sat down.

Christine pretended to be utterly absorbed in watching a small white butterfly that fluttered by the table, but she could feel the phantom's eyes resting on her. "Erik." He said.

She turned to him and blinked. "Sorry?"

"Erik" he repeated, "My name is Erik."

"Erik" she recited. The name seemed to fit him well. The French doors opened again, and Erin came out, carrying a tea tray. She gently placed it on the table and gave a sweet smile to both of them. Then turned on her heel and hurried back into the house. Christine watched her go and then asked "Where did you find her?"

Erik picked up the teapot and began to pour tea into Christine's cup. "You mean Erin?"

"Yes." She replied, picking up her cup, "Is she family?

"No." he said, placing the pot back on the tray. "I meet her couple of years ago." He hesitated. "She…um… helped me with a problem I ran into." He gave an uneasy smile. "She's been a huge help."

Christine took a sip of her tea. "Where are her parents?"

Erik sighed, "They're dead. Both died from sickness when she was four."

"Oh..." She replied, shocked, "That poor girl." Erik nodded again and said "She was cared for by her grandfather until she was fourteen. He's the one who taught her about her herbs. Speaking of which, I heard the lavender went over pretty well." He smiled again picked up his tea cup. Christine felt the heat rise in her cheeks and she looked down at her tea to try and hide that she was blushing. "Does she go to school?"

Erik drank some tea "No. I've been teaching her some simple stuff, but mostly she doesn't care for education. Pity. She really is a bright girl." He placed the cup back on the saucer. "She really enjoys music though."

Christine looked up again and smiled. "How's that going for you?"

"Music?" Erik's smile grew, "I'm glad you asked. I'm actually writing another opera now. I started only a little while ago, but it's coming along. Maybe I could show it to you some time, and you could put in a good word for me at the opera house."

At the mention of the opera house, her face fell. "I'd like to see it, but you'll have to get the word out some other way. I don't sing at the opera any more."

Now, Erik's smile disappeared too. "What?" he asked stunned, "Why?"

Christine hesitated, knowing he wouldn't like the answer. "Raoul doesn't really like the idea of having a working wife." She watched as his expression hardened at the mention of Raoul. "That's not right." He said, "You were meant to sing."

Christine gave a mental shudder, wishing they were talking about something else. "I miss it" she said, "I wish I could go back. But, I also want Raoul to be happy."

That last comment hit hard, she could see it in his face. The two sat in silence again, and now Christine could tell that the conversation could not be saved. "I'm sorry," She said, staring down at her tea cup again, "But it's getting late. I should be getting home." Erik nodded and stood up. Still in silence, he walked her back through the library and into the foyer. When they were standing in front of the entrance door, Christine said quietly, "Thank you for the tea."

Erik opened the door and looked at Christine. "It was good to see you again, Christine." She looked back into his eyes for a second, but dropped her gaze again and quickly said "Good bye." She hurried out the door and back down the cobbled stone street.

Erik stood there for a little bit, watching her go. Then slowly, he closed the door and turned around. As he did, Erin, seemingly from no where, popped up by his shoulder. "Well," she said pleasantly, "that couldn't have gone worse. I fact, I don't think I've ever seen something as awkward as that in my entire life. It was going well for a little bit there, but then you had to bring up the opera. And you said you wouldn't react if she brought up her fiancé! That plan failed fast."

Erik looked down at her "You were eavesdropping?"

"Of course." replied Erin, "You think I would miss something like that?"

"Forgive me." Said Erik sarcastically, "I wasn't aware that the rules of etiquette had changed." He started walked toward the stairs

"Hey, don't be mad at me because you messed up." Erin said, following him.

"Right," he said, climbing the first couple of steps. "It doesn't matter though, its not like she's coming back."

"Oh, I think she'll come back." Erin called after him from the bottom of the stairs.

Erik stopped and turned around. "Really? What makes you say that?"

"Because," she said as she leaned against the banister, "Ms. Daae forgot her hat."