My car was totaled - but I got a new one :) Thanks everyone for checking on me. Things are looking up from here!

partie trois

Erik was living in a dream.

After that night with the priest and the girl - Christine Daaé - Father Mansart pulled his mother aside just after the Sunday Mass. He asked her if she might allow Erik to eat supper with him at his home, more than only on Saturday. He'd meant a couple of nights a week, but the conversation ended with the agreement that Erik would visit every single afternoon for two hours to have supper.

Erik wasn't entirely sure at first what brought on this change, but when he arrived and found Christine beaming behind her uncle in the doorway, he suspected that he knew. As he walked up to the house, he wondered what his mother would say to the fact that a girl was appearing so glad to see him.

He wouldn't know, because he wouldn't tell her, and she had turned back the moment the house came into view. A good enough mother to walk him to his destination, but happy enough to leave before he was all the way there. No kiss or embrace of goodbye, of course. Just a "be good for Father Mansart" before, finally, walking swiftly home.

Erik was more than glad to see her go, but he'd catch a beating if he said that aloud. He didn't know why that kind of thing - being disliked - bothered her so very much. She was unkind to him everyday - did she really expect him to take it and still feel warmly toward her?

But...that was the rub.

Deep down, he did feel warmly to her. He craved her love. But denying that fact was easier than facing it.

Christine pushed past Father Mansart, her hair in two braids on the side of her head. Blue eyes twinkled as she took him in. Erik thought she looked remarkably pretty.

"Hello, Erik, it is so good to see you." Christine stepped toward him. "I'm glad you've come!"

Erik expected her to stop several feet away, but she kept approaching. Unused to such closeness from near-strangers, he froze in his tracks and stiffened. He involuntarily backed up.

She noticed and stopped too, blinking against her obvious surprise.

Father Mansart saw this interaction and walked forward as well. "Christine, dear girl, come back here. Help set the table."

Disappointment flickered across her features. "Yes, Uncle."

Once Christine had turned and walked back into the house, Father Mansart smiled gently and approached Erik. "I apologize for her forwardness, dear boy. She is merely excited to see another child her age."

Erik glanced to the open doorway. "There are other children in the village."

"She is too shy to approach the others. But you - well. You walked right in and proved immediately not to be a threat." He gazed at Erik thoughtfully. "Something about your presence has calmed her, which is a blessing. For days, she has not been able to stop crying. But after you left last night, she could do nothing but request you return. It was the first thing she said when I saw her this morning too."

Erik wondered if he had heard incorrectly. He was a comfort to her? Maybe Father Mansart had misunderstood his niece - but Erik quickly recalled how happy she had been to see him. Perhaps...perhaps Christine was not entirely in her right mind. She was grieving, after all. Perhaps it was addling her judgement.

He would keep this in mind, and try not to become too used to the warmth she currently showed.

Christine's mind was not addled.

In fact, over the next few weeks, Erik discovered that she had the most beautiful mind he could imagine meeting.

She was constantly asking how he was, what he was thinking or feeling. She was gentle and understanding when he was stiff or quiet in her presence, and seemed to understand that it wasn't her that made him act this way. She talked about books and music, and she took Erik into the woods behind the house when it was still light - they began playing first and eating supper later.

And, one day, she told him about the reason she was here with Father Mansart.

"My parents got pneumonia," she explained, "back in Paris." She plucked a blade of grass, the both of them sitting on a large, smooth stone near the edge of the woods. The house was visible from here. "I am an orphan - but Uncle is taking care of me."

Erik listened solemnly, moved by her trust in him with this sensitive information. He felt compelled to disclose a pain of his own.

"My face is ugly," he whispered, "and my mother hates me for it."

He looked down, and Christine was quiet for a long time. He was scared to look at her. Instead, he studied the movement of the grass as the insects and soft wind passed through it.

"Is that why you wear the mask?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Can I see?"

Horrified, Erik vigorously shook his head and met her stare. He found curiosity in her gaze.

"I will still like you, no matter what you look like," she said.

"No." His voice was low.

She tilted her head. "What if I close my eyes?"

"What difference would that make?"

"Then you'd be comfortable and maskless at the same time."

Erik was about to refuse - but then reconsidered. The idea of it - removing his mask while knowing she wouldn't react in terror or disgust - was incredibly appealing.

He took a deep breath and responded, "You must keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them."

Her eyes brightened. "Yes."

"And not a moment sooner."

"All right. Yes."

"You must promise."

Christine straightened, all business. "I promise."

And she closed her eyes.

Erik studied her a moment, waved a hand over her face to check, and then braced himself. Heart pounding, he brought his hands up and untied his mask.

He removed it.

Erik was barely able to bask in the feeling of being bare-faced in front of Christine when, from somewhere deep in the forest, a crack sounded. It was likely nothing more than a branch breaking off a tree, but it was enough to startle her.

She gasped and opened her eyes.

And screamed.

The sound was the most horrible thing he'd ever heard. It grated his ears and made him shudder and inhale unevenly. His heart shredded apart in his chest.

"You promised!" he cried, feeling a lump come to his throat. Her only response was to cover her mouth with her hands.

He replaced the mask over his face and ran. Ran home. Heart shredding even further apart as he realized this small happiness he'd found was effectively over.