Meg closed her eyes softly. Her first deep kiss.

She had been surprised at her sudden action, yet even more so when his lips received hers and kissed her back. She wanted to continue this duet with him, the music their hearts were both singing joined in perfect unison, beating together and crying out together. Was this how all kisses were? Nothing was sweet about the exploding passion she felt, it was raw and hungry, like a starving peasant begging for food. Meg felt as if Erik would devour her, body and soul; plunge her into his sable mind and let her become a part of his tormented world.

She felt his cool hand touch the base of her neck, holding her to him, pushing her closer forward against his powerful kiss. Meg couldn't think anymore, her mind was shutting down so that her body could focus on its natural desires.

However, when she felt as if he had stolen the very breath from her and her lungs screamed for release, he let her go, his soft lips parted from hers, plump and moist from the massage. Her eyes flew open immediately, demanding to know why they were apart, but when she saw his morose face, all her desires melted away, slowly like a receding tide, and she felt herself blush at how much she had wanted him but moments before. It was all so sudden.

He breathed huskily, the craving for her was obvious from his eyes, but though they were passionate, they held a calm fire. He looked at her now, paralyzing her completely, trapping her so that she felt as if she would do whatever he wished of her. Erik turned to look at the floor, "I can't," he breathed.

Words had left her, her embarrassment and wounded heart crushing her softly, like a flower petal. She felt one silent tear slip past her eye and streak a lonely road down her cheek, unexpected and sudden. Meg shook her head, reaching her arms out to him.

"No!" he bellowed, rising. "Don't touch me! I can't do this, please, I only wanted to bid you farewell," his words were cold now, each one a dagger piercing her. "Do not cry for me," he said softly now, eyeing her face.

"I could not bear to hurt you as Christine hurt me," he whispered, not daring to look into her eyes. "I have nothing to give you, nothing at all. To her, I offered my world, my music, myself. But she turned it all away. I could never do that for anyone else again," he lowered his voice even more, "especially you, who knew her true heart."

Meg trembled with unshed tears. She felt a deluge behind her eyes, threatening to burst out in sobs of loss. What was he saying? She did not want to hide her face from him and so she turned to look at him again and made him watch her cry. He could not just toy with her heart like this, ignore her feelings and cast her aside. She did not know at the time, but Erik was in terrible pain, watching her anguish. It was not merely guilt at being the cause of her tears, it was that he knew he could not console her, not because he physically could not, but because he was not allowed to. This beautiful, pure girl was falling in love with him, and it was not because he had coerced her or manipulated her feelings. He had never sung for her or confessed to her his feelings. She had loved him because of him. Meg's love for him was innocent.

Which made it all the more real.

There was only one word racing across Meg's mind, why? Why was he pushing her away? Why couldn't he allow himself to be happy?

Without warning, Erik knelt down towards her, his gloved hand cupping her chin. They both stared at each other a moment and he finally smiled. It was not mocking or laced with innuendos, it was simply a smile. "My dear Little Giry," he began, "You are a friend to me, a sweet child, nothing more. You are an extension of your mother, a kind woman who genuinely cares for me." He looked suave, as if he had suddenly gotten control of himself, changing in character in a brief instant. It was unsettling.

Meg began to shake her head, unbelieving what he was saying to her. This only caused him to smile again, as if she really were a child, and he was just trying to humor her. "Meg," he said again, "We must part ways now. Thank you for consoling my wounded heart. I know that I now have at least one friend in this world, and I am not lonely anymore." Now he turned to pick up the rose that she had dropped, and took her shaking hand in his, placing the flower in it. It reminded him of how Christine had taken his hand and placed his marriage ring back. He was offering her this rose as a parting gift, something to remember him by, though it would last for but a week at most. But there was a difference. Erik did not look at Meg with a sad, pitying expression as Christine had done for him. He was smiling at the girl, hoping to turn her away kindly.

"Live," he nodded simply, "live and be happy, dearest friend."

Then, he bent down and kissed her forehead. His mind was set, he was going to leave her and give her back to her mother. She would be happy to spend the rest of her days without his gloomy presence. He did not know what happiness he could offer her, or if he could ever be as a good a friend to her as she was to him. He had to leave her in order to protect her. He had tried bringing someone down to his world once, and that had failed miserably, with pain on both sides. How could he try to do so again, and so soon after the first? No, it was better this way, to leave her when her feeling were still raw and early, and especially since they'd probably be easier to suppress. It did not matter how much he cared for her, because protecting her was all that mattered. Making sure she stayed sweet and innocent was what mattered.

However, the girl had other ideas. She did not plan to let him leave so easily. When he kissed her forehead, she had closed her eyes to relish the sensation, but when he began to move away, she held him, her smooth hands cupping his face. She saw right through him. With a look of pure worry and devotion she whispered, "What are you afraid of?"

Erik was taken aback by the question, and he didn't know how to answer. He froze under her gaze because now he knew that he could not hide the truth from her.

"I can help you," she began, "but only if you allow me to." She let go of him now, though she still held him with her gaze, "I do not ask for your love, and I do not offer myself as a replacement in your heart. I only want to help you. You say I am your friend, so then why leave me?"

He was silent for a moment, brooding on what he should do. He wanted her to be with him, but how could he ask that of her? He would only be a burden.

She could not guess why he wouldn't speak, and she thought that perhaps he had been shaken by their kiss, so she said, "I only kissed you because I thought I could make you forget," her eyes timidly looking up at him.

"Forget what?" he finally murmured.

"Everything," she breathed nervously. They both knew she had meant to say Christine.