I'm alive! Hehe. Surprised? Okayokayokayokay! Big Thingy here! Lol. I CHANGED THE STORY! I know, I'm terrible. But you know how in chapter 9 they..cough..got intimate? Yeah well. I kinda sorta forgot the whole "no sex until after marriage" thing, so..there has been no sex yet. K? Sorry about that! Anyways..Here's chapter 18! I'm super sorry it took me so long. I got obsessed with Wicked and unfortunately..I was temporarily pulled from my Phantom Phan-ism. But, I'm back:) This chapter is kind of short, but I just needed to get something written. It's not anything special, as my muse is being really mean to me right now, so forgive my rather crappy writing. :)

Erik sat on the floor in the living room of his house beneath the opera, staring into the flames of the fire burning in front of him. He didn't blink, he barely breathed, and his face didn't flinch. On the couch behind him, his angel was sleeping soundly, a thick quilt wrapped around her body, curls spilling over the warm coverlet and her body curled into a child-like position. He was thinking, as he had hardly had time to do as of late. So much had happened the past week; he hardly believed it to be reality. He sighed.

How could this be possible? He was a maniacal, disfigured, self-pitying, over-reacting fool with a hot temper. And Christine was here. Christine was going to marry him. And she had convinced him to come to God, what he had never done since the days of his childhood, when Father Mansart had come to his house to perform Mass. How could such a small person make him do all these things?

As much as he was loathe to admit it, Christine scared him. Christine, dear sweet innocent little Christine, terrified him with her honesty and kindness. How could he ever end up with someone so beautiful and pure? He was sure he would wake up one day and find that he was alone again, dying from heartache in the cold, lonely cellars that were his own personal Hell.

He closed his eyes, ignoring the ache of his head as he tried to relax. Get over it Erik. Relax. She loves you. Someone actually loves you, and can see past your face. Now are you going to accept her love, or keep wallowing in your own self-pity? That annoying voice in his head was right. Christine could have rejected him anytime she wanted, but she never had. She had even let him. . .no. His body stirred, remembering her kisses, her touch, letting him hold her as she slept. . he really needed to stop his mind from thinking that direction. He smiled softly. Never had he felt such. .peace.

Tomorrow he would tell her of his plans for them to move to Rome, and perhaps they could even plan for there marriage to be held there, instead of having it in Paris. Rome really was a beautiful place. The only question was. . would he be able to wait that long? For he was anxiously awaiting the moment when they would finally be one, in marriage as well as-. .

Erik, you are a selfish monster. Can't you think of anything but your own foolish urges? Christine may not even want to share her body with you on her wedding night! Then what would you do, Erik, to control yourself?

Erik growled. It didn't matter anyway. If Christine was still nervous about giving herself to him, which he was as well, knowing nothing about it, then so be it. As long as they were united in marriage. He took a deep breath, then stood up from the floor. As comfortable as it was, he knew falling asleep there would do nothing for him but give him a neck-ache. He stretched, then froze as he looked down at his angel. She looked so gorgeous and innocent; she made his breath catch every time he saw her. She looked too beautiful to be real. Maybe if he touched her she would disappear.

He stretched his hand out. .entranced by her gorgeous skin and gleaming curls. .then stopped himself when he finally realized what he was doing. He mentally kicked himself. What was he thinking? He would hate himself if he disturbed Christine from her slumber just because he had longed to touch her. Surely that would be enough to deny him the right to her bed forever. He smirked, before standing once again. Giving one last longing look at his angel, he touched one of her silky curls, then disappeared into his room. He removed his jacket, cravet, waist-coat and ruffled shirt until he stood in nothing but his trousers. He took off his mask and set it on the dresser beside his bed, before crawling underneath the silk sheets. He was out before he could even acknowledge the fact that he was tired for the first time in years.

Christine was changing him. And Erik was certain it was for the better.

After thirty-seven years of waiting, his life was finally beginning.

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"Um, Maman?" Meg as nervously as they made their way through the Rue Scribe entrance, Raoul following behind. Raoul wanted to lead the way, in case they ran into any danger, but Madame Giry insisted that was foolish, since only she knew the way and it would only put them in more danger. He had grudgingly agreed. But now, after about thirty minutes of walking into what seemed to be only growing darkness, Meg was starting to doubt her mother. It felt like they were walking in circles. How could there be this many passages underneath the opera? Surely they were lost.

"Yes, Meg?" Her mother asked irritably from a few feet in front of her, her hand gripping Meg's tightly. Meg tried to make out her face in the dim light of the lantern, but the darkness seemed to swallow her whole.

"Uh. .do you know where we're going? Because it doesn't look like-. ." She was cut off as she felt her feet drop into icy water, and she gave a small yelp before jumping backwards and crashing into Raoul, who caught her clumsily with a small 'oomph'. Meg blushed, feeling his arms around her waist. She felt him hold on longer than necessary, before quickly dropping his hands. She felt him move away from her, and she blushed a deeper crimson. She was thankful it was so dark.

"Meg, Monsieur le Vicomte, are you both going to stand there like fools all day, or do you want to find Christine? If you do, then please hurry. And yes, there is water, but it is not deep. It reaches three feet, at the most. Thank goodness you wore your old skirts, Meg. ." Meg nodded, forgetting the fact that her mother couldn't see it, before following her mother into the icy water. She gave a gasp as the water soaked through her pantalets, and her teeth began to chatter immediately. She gasped again as she felt Raoul come up behind her and put one hand at her back and another beneath her legs, and pick her up. She blushed again, and felt certain she was going to be permanently red if she kept this up. What was the matter with her? She gave a quiet 'thank you' to the man carrying her, to which he gave a slight nod that she could barely make out in the darkness. He was staring intently in front of him, and she could tell he was trying to stay calm. What was making him so nervous?

Of course, why didn't she realize? He was anxious to see Christine again. Why else would he be acting this way? She sighed, not sure why she felt as if her heart had dropped into her stomach, and buried her head in his chest. She felt his body tense, before he relaxed and continued on after Madame Giry. For once, to Meg's horror, she found herself wishing Christine would stay away from Raoul.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Christine was sitting in the couch in the study of Erik's home, reading a particularly thick book that she found especially interesting and humming to herself, as Erik sat in front of her at his desk, writing furiously to someone on a piece of parchment. Christine's brow furrowed as his pen scratched across the paper for the thousandth time. The irksome sound was made even more annoying by the quiet of the room, and she wished he would just finish with his letter. Finally, she slammed her book closed, determined to tell him to hurry up and get finished with his letter or get the heck out of the room so she could read, when she saw Erik stop writing. Christine gave a sigh of relief, and was about to go back to reading when she saw his back stiffen, and saw his head shoot up as if he had been called. Christine thought he looked so much like a dog that she half-expected to see his ear perk up, or for him bare his teeth. .

Christine burst out laughing, unable to shake the image from her mind. Erik looked at her in shock, his eyes widening in confusion.

"Christine?" He asked, as her laughter only grew. "Christine, stop it," he ordered, getting annoyed. Was she laughing at him? Why? Finally her silence ebbed away, and Christine gave a light cough before looking back to her book as if nothing had happened. Erik shook his head at her in awe. What a strange girl she was sometimes. . .

He shook himself mentally, remembering what had caused him to become distracted from his letter. His sensitive ears had picked up the sound of voices, very faint, in the passageways beyond his home.

"Christine, do you hear that?"

She looked up from her book, and turned her head towards the doorway, listening for what Erik was talking about. She nodded to Erik as, just barely, she made out the sound of water splashing and a woman's voice. She couldn't make out the woman's voice, though it seemed familiar. .

"Madame Giry and her daughter," Erik said quickly, as if reading her thoughts. She turned to him in shock. Of course. She had forgotten about his exceptional hearing. Christine felt a wave of joy course through her. They were finally coming to visit! She missed seeing Meg and going to ballet practice with her, and staying up all night giggling about the newest patrons that had come to the opera. And Madame Giry. .Christine felt tears come to her eyes as she remembered the strict mother figure she loved so dearly. She hoped that she had gotten the message at the café; her shocked expression seemed to convey the fact that she had.

"Oh, Erik!" She beamed at him, her eyes sparkling with joy. He looked to her, and her smile fell at his grim expression. His entire being seemed to radiate hatred.

"Erik?" she asked nervously. He turned away from her, glaring at the doorway as the splashes grew louder and more pronounced.

"I believe Raoul is with them as well." Christine gasped, before groaning in annoyance. Erik looked at her in surprise as she stretched herself out on the couch, and pulled the coverlet out from under her that she had slept with the night before.

"Erik, come here," she ordered, and Erik could hear the coldness in her voice. Would Raoul ever get the message? Erik raised a questioning eyebrow at her, but she just insistently patted the place beside her on the couch. He walked over to her hesitantly, his heart pounding in his chest despite his attempt to quiet it. He sat stiffly on the corner of the couch, but Christine pulled him to her and ordered him to lay with her. Erik complied, slightly frightened by Christine's new behavior. What exactly was she trying to do? He stretched himself out beside her, trying to keep as far from her as he could without falling off the couch. He finally lost his patience when Christine tried to pull him closer to her. That didn't stop him from doing as she wished, however.

"Christine, what exactly are you doing? I don't know if you have perhaps forgotten, but your friend and her mother, as well as that foolish boy are going to be here any minute, and if they find us like this, it will certainly-. ." he stopped, his eyes widening in shock. "You little vixen!" he gasped, but Christine could see the look of pure adoration gleaming in his eyes. Christine smiled slyly, before positioning herself atop him.

She pulled the coverlet over both of them, and instructed Erik to hold her. Erik mechanically did so, grumbling that she could be more polite when ordering him to do such things. She ignored him, ordering him again to close his eyes. He sighed, doing so immediately. He never thought Christine had it in her to be so mischievous. Although he could think of a few other things that would leave no doubt to anyone's mind how they felt about one another, and were even more pleasurable. . .He sighed again, then tensed as his body responded to his thoughts. He uttered a string of curses to his foolish body, and he felt Christine laugh against his chest. His body warmed at the feeling. He tried to relax, forcing his eyes to remain close and evening his breathing.

He gasped as he felt Christine's mouth against his own, warm and inviting. His body trembled at the contact, and his heart beat furiously with her own. So Christine had more planned than to have him simply hold her? He silently praised her for her planning. His mouth opened slightly to Christine's coaxing mouth, and he held back the moan as Christine pressed herself tightly against him. He brought his shaking hands to her hair, tangling him in her chestnut locks. He would never get enough of the taste of her. He pushed her firmer against him, his body instantly responding to Christine's kiss. He gasped again as he felt her slide her tongue along his bottom lip, asking permission to explore further. He granted it, and she moaned quietly into his mouth as his tongue slid past hers, and began a frenzied, impassioned battle with her own.

Never had they kissed this passionately, and Erik could only hope that this wasn't just for show, and that there would be more in the future. After several minutes, they broke for a short moment to breath, both noticing the other's lust-filled eyes, before finding each other's mouth once again. I should have Raoul come over more often, Erik noted to himself, then smiled against Christine's mouth at the thought.

XxXxXxXxX

"It's here," Raoul instructed, as they reached the door, that he had first stepped through when he had discovered Christine, laying in that thing's bed, wearing nothing but a revealing nightgown. His blood boiled at the memory. Meg stirred in his arms, and he embarrassedly remembered that he no longer needed to hold her. He placed her gently to the ground, but noticed that she seemed reluctant for him to let go. He gave a small smile to her, which she returned in kind. He turned to Madame Giry, who was observing them both with the eyes of a strict mother. He instantly stepped back from her daughter. The last thing his tired body needed was to feel the wrath of Madame Giry's cane.

They opened the door hesitantly, clothes dripping onto the cold stone floor, and Raoul's hand ached to reach for the pistol he kept in the holster on the inside of his jacket. He had to remain calm and composed. He squinted in the light of Madame Giry's lantern, and Raoul briefly wondered why the blasted monster didn't light his own home. They were in an empty room. .it looked to be a living room, complete with an elegant Victorian settee, a rather-comfortable looking maroon chair, and a sofa. The remnants of a large fire were left in the fireplace, the embers still burning from an earlier fire. Raoul looked around the room carefully, looking for another doorway. .

"There!" He pointed to the doorway on the opposite side of the room, and Madame Giry and Meg came up behind him to see what had drawn him to that door. They could see a small slip of light coming from underneath the door. Raoul hurriedly ran to it, his wet boots sloshing against the floor. Meg and Mme. Giry followed after him, but he whispered for them to stop as they came to stand in front of the door. Madame Giry rolled her eyes. If there was anyone behind that door, then there was no doubt that they had heard them by now. Taking a deep breath, Raoul threw the door to the study open, and stepped in, Madame Giry and Meg at his heels.

XxXxXxXx

Yay for cliffies! Lol sorry. Sorry for the shortness. At least there's some E/Cness, right? -shifty eyes- ooohh the next chappie's gonna be fun! Lol.Okay big thank you to Twinkle22, Jamea, ErikMySweet, Memory from a Dream, Saloma-Kiwi, Mystery Guest, MyDarkAngelErik, and mika. I love you all! -hugs-

PLEASE REVIEW! -offers brownies-