Meg sat and stared blankly at her reflection in the mirror mounted on the wall. Her eyes were wide, hair mussed and cheeks rosy. The spot where Erik's lips toughed her flesh burned as if it was on fire. There is no way, she thought. Erik is in love with Christine. So why would he kiss me? Thoughts raced about her mind and collided with each other giving her a headache. She shook her head disbelieving and decided to take a nap. As she was falling asleep a Siamese curled up at her side.

"Reow?"

Meg smiled sleepily, "'G night Ayesha."

Erik sat at his organ and stroked the ivory and ebony keys. What in his right mind had possessed him to kiss her cheek? Then again there was the fact he was slightly crazy and the kiss wasn't really much of a kiss. He shook himself mentally. Earlier he had gone into her room to apologize but she had been fast asleep. It startled him how angelic she looked with her blonde locks splayed in a halo about her head, long eyelashes brushed the tops of her rosy cheeks, and her pink lips were slightly parted. Erik felt an unfamiliar stirring inside him and felt his stone heart crack a bit for the angel sentenced to live in hell. At least until she sent him over the edge or wanted to leave, how long would it be till she would want to leave the gloom and doom, and never return? She hadn't even had a chance to come back yet.

You know the saying. Erik thought. Sadly, he did know the saying as well as the feeling that accompanied it. Had Christine came back? No, you idiot. The all-knowing part of his mind said in a little voice. She wasn't supposed to.

"Well maybe I wanted her to!" Angry hands fought to stay steady on the organ's keys.

Maybe you wanted her to, the voice mocked. GET OVER HER!

A loud clang filled the air as Erik punched the keys, followed by a shriek, a thump, and groans of pain from two different people. "Well now, since you cannot control yourself, you can go and apologize." Erik told himself through gritted teeth, hoping the crack in his heart would mend and he could go back to being a hard, cold man.

Erik walked into Meg's room stiffly only to find her sitting on the stone floor rubbing her side. Hearing the door open she looked up and smiled. "Hello," she said sweetly.

"Meg I just came in to apologize." Erik stood stiff and looked down at Meg with an unreadable expression.

"For waking me? It's not a problem; I needed to get up anyway." Meg stood up and stretched exposing her taut belly for a moment.

Erik's breath caught in her throat. God man, control yourself. "No, it wasn't for waking you but I am sorry about that too." Erik rasped trying to breathe properly again. "I was bold earlier and should not have done that." Swallowing repeatedly Erik tried to get his throat to expand to its normal size.

Confusion creased Meg's brow. "You don't need to be sorry." A small fist had clamped down on her heart and started squeezing it.

"Yes I do, it was a rude thing to do, and I should not have done it. Although if you want to, I will take you home."

"To get my things?" Meg was confused, she was positive all the things she had felt earlier were good thing. They were the things Christine talked about feeling when she was with Raoul. Weak kneed, breathless, that feeling in her stomach that she didn't know how to describe, Meg had been sure they were good.

"Whatever you want Meg."

"Okay, when can we leave?"

"Now if you can manage it." Meg nodded and went over to her bureau to get out the cloak that Erik loaned her. As soon as it was settled on her shoulders she faced Erik.

"Let's go."

As they walked along Erik mulled over his thoughts. She is not repulsed after seeing my face. She touched me, touched my deformity. I kissed her and she still does not desire to leave me. But do you want her to leave? The little part of him mind whispered to him. Erik sighed.

"Erik are you okay?" Worry laced itself over Meg's features.

He nodded and continued thinking. I don't know if I want her to leave. She is not Christine for sure. She is different. Then again am I sure about that? He bit his cheek. I have allowed myself to become something I never wanted to become. I have become weak and soft. No longer am I mean and callous. Do you want to be? Are you sure that you don't want to be that way? Do you want to scare Meg away? Is she just another of the things you put up with, only to explode and frighten? Is everything going to turn out like it did with Christine? Meg is slightly older; she may just know a bit more than Christine did about tolerance and about how the face of beauty doesn't mean a whole lot. Can you just go away? Let me wallow for a while. Leave you to your past time of how many years? Sure. The voice in Erik's mind fizzled out just as they reached the underground stables.

"Are we going to take Cesar again?" Meg asked inching toward the pure white horse. With a nod, Erik tacked up the horse and hoisted Meg up. "Thank you." She said as he swung up behind him.

"You're welcome," came the gruff response.

Meg sighed and leaned back onto his broad chest. Unsurprisingly she liked the feel of his arms around her. Not like you are going to feel them embrace you. The small thought that she wouldn't feel any kind of caring from this man depressed her and her mind was silent the rest of the way to her home.

Erik stopped the horse and swung off followed by Meg. She shuffled up to her door and found it to be unlocked, just like she left it. They walked in and Meg turned to Erik, "Erik please make yourself comfortable, I should only be a few moments." He nodded again and sat on the small couch in the parlor.

Memories swamped Meg as she plodded up the stairs to her room. Her first fall down the stairs, walking down the stairs to meet suitors. Smells assaulted her nose as she stood in her bedroom which was across from her mother's room. The light sent of her mother's toilet water, the powder she put in her ballet shoes to keep them smelling fresher than sweaty feet. Tears stung her eyes as she padded into what was her mother's room. The black dress that her mother laid out for the next day was placed on the chair in front of her mother's vanity table. Bottles of rose scented toilet water littered the table; a brush still held a few strands of her mother's hair were still caught in the bristles. Meg ran her hand over the coverlet of her mother's bed. Tears streaked Meg's face; she missed her mother so much.

Erik sat on the couch where Meg had left him. She had been up there for a while. Getting up, Erik went up the creaky stairs to check of Meg. "Meg?" He whispered. The soft sounds of crying reached Erik's ears. He opened a door to his right to find Meg laying on a bed. She was curled up in the fetal position and harsh sobs racked her body as she tried to quiet them. "Meg?" an edge of worry crept into his voice. He sat on the bed next to her and put a hand onto her shoulder. Erik didn't know what to do; he didn't know how to comfort this girl. Meg continued to cry, Erik sighed and pulled her over to him and embraced her. Hot tears bathed his neck as Meg rested her head on his shoulder. Gripping Erik's shirt Meg let go of the tears she had not cried since her mother's death.

"Erik, I miss her so much." She sobbed, her lips brushing Erik's neck, sending shivers down his spine.

"I know Meg, I know." He murmured into her hair, stroking her back, giving her the same reaction she gave him.

Soon her sobs lessened leaving her breathing in gulps, but tears still ran down her face. Her eyelids grew heavy and she sighed, "I forgive you Erik."