It's been a busy week, but I finally got this chapter done. I found it difficult to set a tone for it. On the one hand, it's a bit fluffy. On the other...it's not. I guess I hope the two sides to Erik's personality are shown. I also hope I don't scary anyone off with my little flashback. :) Hope you enjoy! I love your feedback as always! Happy Valentine's Day!

Read and Review!

It was the first morning in some time that Christine awoke without an overwhelming sense of anxiety. No threatening events loomed ahead of her, and a decision had finally been made. Looking around the little room, she found that her surroundings didn't seem as frightening. In some ways, she had even grown fond of the strange home. A warm contentment settled inside of her as she sat up in the bed and stretched.

With a yawn, Christine climbed out from under the covers and padded her way across the soft throw rug. After turning on a lamp, she swept her long hair up into a pony tail. It was starting to become harder to wash and untangle. Maybe a trim would help. Walking to her closet, she chose a pair of black slacks and a red v-neck shirt, somewhat tired of the heavy turtlenecks she had been wearing for the last several weeks. The outfit felt loose and relaxed, perfectly fitting her trim form. Picking up the hand mirror, she looked over her reflection momentarily. Dark circles still hung under her eyes, but she thought some color had returned to her cheeks. The lines of tension on her forehead had faded as well.

Emerging from the bedroom, she found the temperature of the living area to be slightly chillier. From behind the walls of Erik's chambers, the piano was playing at a quick tempo, although the melody was of a lighter variety. Christine quietly began humming along to the song as she took a seat on the leather sofa. Did Erik ever sleep? she wondered. Or did he play the piano all night long?

Looking down, she saw that the brochures from the night before had been thoughtfully placed on the table beside her. She began to flip through the colorful photographs again, reading the descriptions of the more interesting sights. There was so much to see in the city...galleries, performances, and restaurants. The opportunities she was being handed gave her a deep feeling of gratitude. Some freedom had also been acquired over the last few days, putting her more at ease.

Erik came out of his room around twenty minutes later, and she turned around as the door quietly clicked open behind her. Glancing at the serpent clock, he looked slightly surprised to see her sitting there. "It is later than I thought," he stated, taking a step forward. "I fear that I became caught up in my music this morning."

"Oh." She smiled and set the brochures back down on the table. "Was that your own composition? I'd never heard it before."

"No. It was an arrangement of various classics. As I have said, I would never play my music for another to hear."

"I'm sure I'd like it, Erik. Everything you play is amazing."

His eyes glowed pleasantly, and he walked to stand in front of her. "Your words are warming, Christine. But I would never torture you with my music. I want you to remain happy here...as you are."

"All right," she replied with resignation. "I'd still like to hear it, though."

"No more talk of me," he commanded, although she thought it sounded like he was smiling beneath the mask. It was strange how she was learning to sense his emotions without ever seeing his expressions. As of now, his posture seemed more relaxed than usual, and his gestures were casual. "You may be interested to know that I arranged your audition for you. Mr. Piane must have sincerely enjoyed your performance, as he agreed to meet with you tomorrow afternoon. I believe you will be adequately prepared."

Her face lit up. "Yes! That's fine. I'm sure I will be. Thank you."

He looked upon her briefly before taking a seat on the other sofa. "Ah. I see you have been looking over the city. Do you see any place to your liking? Perhaps you can go somewhere after you audition? Would you enjoy that?"

"It all looks wonderful. Maybe the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Or if you can recommend any place..."

"It has been some time since I bothered going anywhere for leisure, except to hear you sing. I find it is not worth the trouble. You decide where you wish to go, my dear. I have no input."

A very faint bitterness lined his words, and she even felt the urge to console him. Not knowing what to say, though, Christine pursed her lips and looked down. "All right. I'll try the museum, then. One of my professors recommended going-" She suddenly paused, and her eyes widened. "Oh! I forgot all about school. They're going to wonder..."

"It is taken care of," he gently replied. "You are no longer enrolled. Perhaps you can continue your education later."

"Oh. I see."

"Does this bother you, Christine? Certainly you wouldn't have had the time to pursue your career simultaneously."

She was silent for a moment, sorting everything out in her mind. The choice had never been hers, she knew. At the same time, she had always felt out of place at the university. Now, she had a goal and purpose. Why fight the feeling of belonging? Christine looked back up, subconsciously surrendering another part of herself. "No. That's fine. I'm glad I don't have to deal with it now."

"Yes. You can concentrate on other things. You did not seem content there, anyway."

"I...I guess I wasn't a lot of the time. I never really knew where I belonged, or what I wanted to do." She gave a short laugh. "My major was in music education. But I didn't really want to be a teacher."

"But now you do belong somewhere, Christine. You don't have to worry any longer." He leaned in, his hands neatly folded together.

They were questions in the form of statements, and so she looked up and answered. "Yes," she softly replied. "I'm fine now, Erik. I'm happy."

He relaxed, and they sat there in silence for some time. Christine absentmindedly looked down and flipped through the brochures again. Glancing up about ten minutes later, she saw that he was still basking in her words of reassurance. Placing the brochures aside, she slowly stood up. Erik followed her with his eyes, his shoulders tensing as though he thought she did not want to be in his company any longer. "Could we practice my singing a little now?" she softly asked. "If you have time..."

Erik was on his feet in an instant, already making his way to the back room. "Of course, my dear. There is always time for that."

Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, Christine quickly followed behind him.

The last note of the piano faded into the air, and the song finished. Christine shifted her weight and stood there stiffly as Mr. Piane jotted something down into a spiral notebook. Wringing her hands nervously, she quickly glanced around the room. The accompanist, an elderly woman in a polka dot dress, gave her an encouraging smile. Except for the distant echoes of voices and footsteps in the outside corridors, the room was silent.

She thought she had done fairly well at the audition, aside from coming in a beat late once or twice. The song flowed with much more ease than it had at the banquet, partially because she was no longer worried about what lay ahead. Erik had been intent on making her flawless, and the prior day had been spent touching up her voice with various exercises. During dinner, he had remained at the kitchen table with her as requested, discussing various techniques and styles while she ate. Now that she was no longer in a constant state of anxiety, conversation came more easily. Their hours together had been enjoyable, and she had gone to bed feeling truly happy.

As she waited for Mr. Piane to say something, Christine became more anxious. He continued to look down at his notebook with a furrowed brow and a thoughtful expression. Of course, there would be other chances if this didn't work out. Still, she felt a need to hear some kind of praise.

"All right," Mr. Piane finally said, looking out from beneath his glasses with a smile. "Very nice, Ms. Daae. Excellent job."

She eagerly nodded. "Thank you."

"I'll definitely be in touch with you in the next couple of days," he said, standing up from his chair. "Or maybe with your manager?"

Christine slowly nodded again, wondering exactly what Erik had told Mr. Piane. "Yes. You can call him."

"I will, then. Could I get any personal information from you? A phone number? Cell phone?" He poised his pen over the notebook.

"I don't really...have a private number. Just call my manager."

Mr. Piane frowned slightly but nodded. "Yes. That is what he told me to do. All right, then. I will. Do you have any questions for me? I'm sorry if this is a bit rushed, but I have a meeting in ten minutes."

"No. I don't think so. Thank you for the audition, though."

He smiled. "It was my pleasure, Ms. Daae. Have a good afternoon. I'll be in touch with you soon."

"Thank you. You, too." Feeling relieved that it was over, Christine quickly walked forward and left the room before he could ask any more questions. She didn't know what Erik had told Mr. Piane, and she didn't want to reveal anything that wasn't supposed to be known. Her heels clicked steadily on the grey tiles, softly echoing down the hallway. She felt oddly alone in the empty corridor. It had been some time since she had truly been by herself.

Opening the door of the large brick building, she stepped outside. The air was slightly warmer that day, and a few rays of sunlight shown out from behind the clouds, glinting off the melting snow that still lay upon the ground. Several bicyclists pedaled along the street in front of her, one younger man giving her a half-smile as he raced by.

She searched around for several moments, before finally noticing the familiar black car parked under several barren trees. To anyone else, it would have looked suspicious. To her, it was almost a comfort. Walking over and opening the back door, she found that the backseat was dark and empty. A frown contorted her features as she climbed inside and buckled her seatbelt.

Settling back, Christine was once again surprised when the driver spoke out to her from a speaker. She often forgot that anyone was up there, as if the car were able to drive itself. "To the museum, ma'am?" asked the gruff voice.

She realized that she had forgotten her solo trip that afternoon. When she had asked him if he would be going, he had chuckled wryly. "My dear...one goes to museums to look at things, not to be stared at. You will enjoy yourself without my company." And that was the end of the matter.

On the one hand, it was occasionally nice to take a break from the tension that still lingered between her and Erik. At the same time, she wasn't sure if she liked this silence. The idea of walking through an enormous museum by herself was unappealing after getting out of a stressful audition. She felt the need for conversation and company.

"Ma'am?" came the driver's voice again, with a slightly irritated tone.

"Um...no. I'm a little tired. Let's go home. Please."

A short silence followed. "Yes, ma'am."

She relaxed and closed her eyes as the car turned in the opposite direction and followed a familiar route. They were back in the decrepit neighborhood faster than she expected, the car bumping along the cracked roads and jolting her in the seat. Christine sat up straight and prepared to get out, relieved to see that the sun had come out completely.

"Thank you," she awkwardly murmured, as the vehicle came to a stop in front of the complex. She received no reply from the driver as she opened the door. Gathering her winter coat, Christine climbed out and made her way down the steep concrete steps. Arriving at the obscure entrance, she turned the knob and realized with some alarm that it was locked. Hearing Erik's voice from inside, she put her ear to the door.

"You are very aware that I am not involved now?" he icily asked. A pause followed. "Ah! Am I to take it you are threatening me, Mr. Jamison? I should hope not. It would not be in your best interest. Or your wife's!" Another long silence passed. Christine shifted nervously. "Well, you heard very wrong, my friend. I do not! Not for years." One more pause. "That is information you will never obtain. You will get nothing from me!"

Erik's voice suddenly faded, as if he had gone farther back into the home. Although she was curious, she didn't want to get caught eavesdropping again-not when so much trust had been gained. The conversation was too cryptic to understand anyway. Folding her hand into a fist, Christine softly knocked on the door. She jumped as it swung open within a single second. Erik stared down at her from above.

"This conversation is a waste of my time," Erik abruptly said into the receiver, his gaze never leaving her. "Do not call me again." Clicking off the phone, he approached her. Christine nearly stepped back, until she saw that his eyes were more confused than angry now. "What are you doing home?" he shrilly enquired. "Surely you could not have been to the museum."

She managed to keep her voice steady. "I was too tired to go. I didn't want to after the audition. I'm sorry?"

He stared at her for several seconds. "Do not be sorry, Christine," he said, his voice now calmer. "I simply did not expect you home. My driver should have notified me. His incompetence is becoming tiresome. But it is in no way your fault." Erik paused, his eyes narrowing. "How long have you been waiting?"

"I...I just got here," she softly replied.

"I see." He slowly moved to let her step inside, gently taking her coat and hanging it near the door. "Did your audition go well?"

She smiled, forgetting the odd event that had occurred. "Yes! It went well. At least, Mr. Piane seemed happy with it. He wants me to come back."

"Excellent! I told you that there was nothing to worry about. Your voice surpasses anything that they have ever heard. I had wondered if something went wrong, as you were so eager to return here."

Christine shrugged. "No. It went well."

Erik appeared unusually puzzled. "Then come. Rest while I prepare dinner." He turned to leave.

"Wait," she said with a swallow. Erik turned back around. "Isn't there any place you ever go? Any sights? I'm not used to the city. I want someone..." Christine trailed off, feeling horribly awkward in the short silence.

"You do not wish to go out alone?" he softly enquired, his voice etched with what sounded like hope. "Is that what you are saying? Christine?"

For a moment, she thought he was going to reach out and clutch onto her shoulders in joy. Still, she didn't move, keeping her gaze steady. "I don't really like to go out by myself. But if there's any place that you ever go, I'd like to go out with you."

Although Erik refrained from coming any closer, his longing eyes said everything. Her heart rate quickened, but it was not in fear this time."

"Yes," he finally answered. "Occasionally, I do go out. I do, Christine."

A large purple and blue bruise on the Iranian's forehead served as a vivid reminder of his encounter with Erik. Every so often, Nadir's temple would begin to throb, and he would have to stop whatever he was doing and clutch his head. Several small scrapes also lined his arm from where he had hit the street. Hours had passed before he had finally awoken to find himself staring up at the cloud-covered sky. It was a miracle that his car hadn't been stolen, or that he hadn't been mugged while he was unconscious.

After picking his cold, sore body up from the ground, the Iranian had shakily crawled into his car. The engine had grunted in protest as he turned the key, but, to his utmost relief, finally ran with a steady hum. Turning up the heat as far as it would go, he had sat there for several moments, attempting to recover. The effects of the drug slowly began to wear off.

In more ways than one, he was lucky to be alive. If he were smart, he would leave the city now...get as far away from Erik as possible. What did he possibly have left to gain? Wasn't he crazy if he continued to stay?

Yet, a lingering worry still plagued him over the fate of Ms. Daae. The idea of an innocent, young woman under Erik's care was almost frightening. No matter how happy Christine seemed, it was something he never would have imagined. Not Erik. Not the man who could strangle a life away with the flick of a wrist... who had created chemicals that were capable of eating the flesh off a person's body in mere seconds.

Over a decade ago, Nadir had watched him test the vile acid on a live human being. A twenty-two year old Erik had indifferently looked on as the man in front of him screamed in agony, the skin on the poor wretch's arm turning into nothing but a mass of thick purple ooze. The Iranian had turned his head, unable to watch at the time.

It works too slowly Erik had commented, examining the carnage with a scientist's eye. His victim had already fainted from the pain. I will have to lower the pH...make it stronger. Wouldn't you agree, Nadir?

Nadir had little choice but to sickly nod.

Very good, then. Have the other arm prepared! And wake him up so that we are able to obtain a proper reaction! I will return shortly.

They had tested that godforsaken substance seven times before Erik was satisfied...another demonic creation in a long line of many. Still staring out the window of his car that night, Nadir had shuddered in memory.

And that was why the Iranian couldn't bring himself to leave Christine Daae to fend for herself. What if she had simply learned to passively accept her captivity, the poor girl?

Although he hadn't been able to follow Erik home, at least he now had a general idea as to where his masked friend lived. Surely that black car would pass this way again. Knowing that nothing could be done that night, though, Nadir had shakily turned his car around and headed back to his apartment. It was all he could do to keep the vehicle on the road, especially with the remaining patches of ice and his throbbing head.

Returning home in one piece, Nadir had collapsed into bed and slept late into the morning. The next day, after forcing down a bowl of cereal and cleaning out some of his cuts, he had set out to complete his mission. To ensure that he would not immediately be recognized, Nadir had exchanged his car for a dark-blue Honda Civic. The new car was small, fast, and would be difficult to see at night.

After grabbing a cup of black coffee, he returned to the same area as before, waiting and watching as dozens of cars raced past him through the older neighborhood. He drove around cracked buildings and apartment complexes...searching for any sign of them. Absolutely nothing had turned up on the first day.

There was nothing on the second day, either. One of the cuts on his arm had become a dark shade of red, and he hoped it wasn't becoming infected. Nadir was growing more exhausted as each hour passed, eating fast food for every meal.

Again, on the third day, he came out early in the morning. The night had been restless, and he had gotten little sleep. Still, he waited, nodding off at the steering wheel every couple of minutes. Cars and trucks continued to pass. Pedestrians gave him curious looks. Rubbing his hands over his tired face, Nadir looked toward the sky hopelessly. Was he to spend the rest of his life waiting there? Surely he would go insane sooner or later.

Late that afternoon, though, fortune seemed to smile down upon him. As he was taking a bite out of a grilled chicken sandwich, continuing to watch the roads, the black car flashed in front of his vision. Tossing his sandwich aside and shifting the car out of park, he quickly began to follow. Nadir carefully stayed behind other cars, blending in with the approaching shadows of the evening.

You won't get away, Erik. Not this time. You're going to let that girl go.

Maybe he was being obsessive...almost crazy with exhaustion, but Nadir was tired of these games. If this didn't work, he would get the police involved. Christine Daae's life would not be destroyed.

Over thirty minutes later, the black car finally swerved to the side of the street next to a large array of brightly lit buildings. White pillars stood tall at one of the front entrances. As the sun had almost set, most of the street lamps had come on, casting a hazy glow over the ground. People walked all around him. Most men were dressed in formalwear, and women wore expensive gowns and jewelry that sparkled in the dim lights.

Nadir craned his neck as he continued to follow the black car, trying to figure out exactly where he was. A concert hall of some sort? He still hadn't learned his way around the city. He turned his attention back to the vehicle, staying concealed behind two stalled SUVs. The black car was now slowing to a stop near the front of the buildings.

Within several seconds, the door on the left opened. Nadir watched as Erik gracefully stepped out, practically invisible in his dark suit and black mask. He walked to the other side of the car and opened the door. Within another moment, Christine Daae had stepped out as well, wearing a glossy light-blue dress that trailed down to her feet. Her blonde hair was done up in an elaborate array of barrettes. A silver bracelet glimmered on her arm. In the lights, Nadir could see a small smile on her pretty face. He continued to watch carefully.

They began to walk forward together, almost oblivious to their surroundings. Erik must have said something behind the mask, for Christine smiled again and spoke back.

Then, Nadir watched as Ms. Daae slowly reached out a small hand and placed it upon Erik's arm. His masked friend tilted his head up in slight surprise, before confidently leading her toward the elaborate building. Even from this distance, Nadir could see the pair of yellow dots glowing with something akin to joy.

He watched as Erik slowly took Ms. Daae's hand and guided her inside of the building. He watched their forms fade away into the masses of other people.

And, then, Nadir turned around and drove home.

Still, though, he did not leave.

Not yet.