Love is a cruel thing; one that plays hideous tricks on the mind. Even as I sat late into the night in front of the fire, gazing at the dying embers and charred velvet, I could not help the false visions that entered my head, nor the pitifully loud thuds of my heart. Over and over I saw Christine dressed in a white to fit her purity, coming to greet me at the entrance to our home. She was the epitome of perfection, and she was mine! My living bride! We had a beautiful home, tall and white and secluded, filled with as many lights as Christine wished, with a rose garden, and a piano that we could sing at whenever we wanted! Oh, and on Sundays I would take her to the park, and arm in arm we would stroll in the presence of humanity, as any other couple!

I shivered in the darkness. Was she truly to be my salvation? Compensation for the life I had known only to be a hell? Sighing, I decided I would have to wait, for the decision was hers. I knew, though, that I would not let her go until she had made her choice.

And if that choice did not lean in my favor…Well, regardless, she would never leave me again.

"Erik?" I asked, trying in vain to conceal my apprehension.

"What is it, my dear?"

"I…Do-do you think I could go out, and…get some fresh air?" I saw him tense, and quickly cast my eyes down.

"I promise not to wander off. You-you could take me. Just for a little while, Erik. Please." The moments after my plea were spent in silence.

"You will not try to run?" Erik asked icily, and I shivered at the change in his tone.

"No, Erik, I will not run." He leaned over the table, willing me to meet his gaze.

"Or scream?"

"Or scream," I confirmed, then, "Please."

"Very well, Christine," he sighed, "I can take on a ride across the lake. Would that please you?" I nodded, and he stood up, walking around to the back of my chair. "Come."

I stood up also, only too happy to oblige. Finally, I would be getting out of this blasted house, if only for a moment. I found that the days of this confinement were beginning to wear on me, and I longed for any change of scenery. At the door I assumed led out, Erik paused, his gaze shifting nervously from me to the plastered frame. His eyes found mine, and he let a long, almost angry sigh. It was only until a saw him tug on a string far above my height that I realized the door had no handle.

Once outside I breathed in deeply, then eyed my surroundings. It looked far different from my first trip down here, but at that time I was only vaguely paying attention. I was startled, though not at all surprised, to see my vision clouded by the depths of darkness. The only sound came from the faint thwop, thwop of slowly lapping water. As usual, Erik blended with the shadows, but I didn't dare reach out for him.

"Do you still wish to continue, my dear?" he asked, and though the voice came from my right side, I couldn't be sure that was where he was.

"Y-yes," I replied unsteadily. I could hear him chuckle lightly in the darkness.

"Then come." Barely a second passed before I could feel him near me, and I knew he held out his arm in half-mock. My heart thudded so loudly that I became afraid he would hear. I cleared my mind quickly. I wouldn't actually be touching him. After all, two layers would be separating my hand from his death flesh. Slowly, shakily, I rested my hand on his arm, and I felt him shiver where I had touched him. Instead of drawing back, however, I only hovered my hand.

He led me carefully into the confines of the gondola, where I sat down clumsily and tried to spread my skirt around me. I found myself jealously eyeing his innate grace as he guided the boat with his ore. After some minutes, I asked:

"You see very well in the dark, don't you?" I turned my head up, and then snapped it back down, suddenly afraid of his piercing golden eyes.

"Yes, but I have lived in the dark a long time. You too will learn to adjust your eyes to the darkness." Even as he spoke I could see shapes starting to form—the outline of the river and the last stone level.

"How long have you been—er—down here?"

"Long enough," he sighed. I knew he would say no more on the subject, so I simply nodded.

"Are you cold?" he asked suddenly, and too quickly I replied with, "No!" Then, more gently, I said, "No…no, thank you." Had I simply been afraid he would have insisted I wear his coat?

I figured we had reached the end, or he would go no further, because he made a soft turn and he rowed back towards the house. The rest of the journey was spent in silence.

Once we were back inside, Erik hung his coat, and I sprawled my dress over the couch as I sat down. "Thank you, Erik," I said, and he nodded in response.

"When you are ready, my Marguerite," he began, "We can begin the second act of Faust."

"Of course," I said, pushing myself to my feet, and followed him to the organ.

Panic was the best way to describe my reaction to Christine's request. All hope shattered, leaving me angry and helpless. Just hours before she had confessed wanting to know me, and now the first thing on her mind was leaving! And I—I had been foolish enough to think that maybe, just maybe—! I growled inwardly. So, she wanted fresh air, did she? No doubt she'd take one breath, alert the whole opera with that lovely voice of hers, and attempt to run back to her precious vicomte. But no, she had promised not to; just as she had promised not to fear my face.

Sighing with rage and fear, I led her to the door, stalling in agony while she held her breath, and finally opening it in defeat. Should she attempt anything, I thought, I would simply have to drag her back.

She stepped out, obviously alarmed at the darkness. I drew back in the shadows, watching her reaction. She looked lost and scared, and for a moment all my anger dissipated into concern.

"Do you still wish to continue, my dear?" I asked, lifting my voice to her side.

"Y-yes," she replied hesitantly. I chuckled lightly at her newest attempt at bravery.

"Then come," I told her, extending my arm for her to take. As expected, she only glanced at it nervously, and I stretched it daringly closer. Still, she stalled, and just as I expected her to flinch away, or to run back inside, she laid her hand on the arm of my suit. I shivered in delight, causing her to lift her palm so that it now hovered.

We glided across the river, and I could not help imagining myself under the shade of a tree, while Christine lay out against a grassy hill, with blue sky above our heads, and a smile gracing my beloved's lips. We talked, perhaps not of normal things, but the words were natural. And then we returned home, to music and candlelight.

I could not help thinking that maybe all she had wanted was fresh air, after all.

Yeah, I know, I practically fell asleep writing it. I think this is my least favorite chapter so far, but I had to put it in to make way for the next ones. I've been rethinking this and I decided to extend this story so that it goes into detail past the two weeks. I'm not sure when it will stop, though. Anyway, I'm really really sorry about the long wait for the update, but I've been catching up on sleep, lol. Yay 4 easter break! Also, thank you guys so much for all your reviews, they mean a lot to me!

Clever-lass—Thank you so much! I'm sorry if the wait wasn't worth it this time, lol, but hopefully it will be for the next.

Reading Redhead—Don't you hate it when that happens? I always write long emails to my friends, click something unintentionally, and when I check back the whole thing's gone. Grrr. Anyway, (lol) isn't Wicked awesome! I get to see it in LA this summer, I'm sooooo excited. It's my first Broadway show! YAY! The only bad part is that I know my old mother is going to be singing popular for the whole drive. –shudders- I'm rambling now, sorry. Thanks for your review!

Wendela—Thank you! I know, poor Erik. We should go give him a hug, lol, and a big cup of coco. That'll make him feel better. As for Erik being a love-sick puppy, I always thought he was, what with his moaning and weeping and kissing Christine's dress and feet. I've always thought him to be the least proud/arrogant Erik out there, at least towards his angel.

Hereswith—Thank you! I'm glad no one seems too offended by Christine's sudden backbone.

Chat-Tastic—Thanks!

Miranda7911—I love you. You know that, right? Your take on Erik's personality and a possible change in the ending have really, really put me at ease. Don't worry, though, any changes in the ending will seem natural (hopefully). Christine will not be killing Raoul and fleeing the country with Erik (or something to that extent). Lol. Also, I think your theory that Christine would possibly choose Erik, had she been older, is very accurate. It's kind of like that line in the book where Raoul asks: "If Erik were handsome, would you love me?" and she responds with: "Why ask me about things I keep hidden in the back of my mind like sins?" or something like that. Had she been mature enough to overlook his appearance, I think she would have chosen him. Too bad that didn't happen, but at least all of us E/C shippers have fan fiction to cling to. ;) Thank you soooooooo much for your review!