Much of the hurt Erik had felt at Christine's unmasking of him had been soothed by how she acted towards him in the empty theater, though a few aches of betrayal still lingered. He would wonder, every now and then, if that's how it had felt to her when he stepped through the mirror, and he swiftly pushed those thoughts down.

He paced anxiously in her dressing room (where they had agreed to meet for her next lessons, neither one eager to return the room where she had unmasked him), waiting for her to arrive. His nervous excitement to start the lesson, however, was squashed as she walked through the door.

She, too, had been looking forward to the lesson, eager to work hard and improve. She opened the door to her dressing room, and he turned to face her.

Fear pooled in the pit of her stomach and her legs turned to lead.

Intellectually, she knew there was nothing to be frightened of. This was Erik, for goodness sake! Her respectful friend! Simply a man, a person no different than her.

But this was also the first she had seen him since she had seen him, and deep in her mind there was something that wouldn't let her forget her previous terror so easily - that awful day had caused the sight of her strange tutor to be linked with the feeling of fear. She couldn't help her reaction even though she didn't want it to happen. Horrible guilt stole over her as she quickly looked away from him.

The sight of her turning pale and trembling as soon as she saw him was almost enough for Erik to send her away. She truly did fear him, then, regardless of what she had said on stage. How easily she had said those words that night - after all, she hadn't been able to see him in the darkness! Now, when she was before him, it was a different story.

He turned away from her, facing the wall instead.

She saw his motion from the corner of her eye, and as her initial fear began to fade her cheeks started to burn from embarrassment. He had noticed her reaction, then.

"Start with your usual warmups," his voice was professional, masking the hurt behind it.

She began her warmups, and much to her dismay, her voice was shaky. Perhaps the fear hadn't left her entirely.

He noticed, he surely did, but he made no comment on it, probably because he had guessed the cause. If he reprimanded her, he thought, that would surely only add to her distress.

The lesson went rather dismally, and though it was better than the previous one, not very much was accomplished.

"You did well, Christine," said at the lesson's conclusion. "I will see you in two day's time."

He left quickly though the mirror before she could say anything.

Her heart sank. She hadn't done well, and she knew it. He knew it, too, but clearly he wasn't going to comment on it. Was that how it was going to be, now? How was she going to improve if he didn't give corrections? Had he been afraid that if he pushed her too much she'd grow angry at him and snatch his mask away again?

She sat down at her vanity and stared miserably into the mirror. Did he feel that same crash of panic over him when he saw her, too? After what she did to him? She bit her lip. They had made up, or so she had thought, yet still each of them continued to be haunted by the choices the other had made.

At her next lesson, she was ready for the feeling of anxiety that came over her when she saw his tall figure and stark white mask. She took a deep breath before entering her dressing room, her heart beating fast in frightened anticipation, and turned the doorknob. She stepped inside the room, closed and locked the door, and then hid her hands behind her back, squeezing them tight into fists so he wouldn't see them shake.

"Good morning, Christine."

"Good morning, Erik."

He wouldn't look at her, and she noticed.

He knew that she was still frightened - knew that she probably would be for quite some time - and he couldn't quite bring himself to see that fear etched across her face. She was afraid of him, but she loved singing, so apparently her love had won out over the fear she felt.

"Christine," his voice was hesitant and unsure. "Would you- would you prefer if I was behind the mirror again?"

Her brow furrowed. Did he think it would be easier if she didn't have to see him?

"No, Erik - I don't mind."

He nodded and began the lesson.

Did she mind? It felt horrible to say that she minded his face, especially when she couldn't even see it. While she minded it a very little amount, the thing she minded more was how wrong it felt to even have him there. For so long she had been used to that voice as a heavenly visitor, and to now see him as a human and to hear that voice coming from him - it felt so strange, and her mind would often wander from what she was singing. There was a sense of wrongness about it that had nothing to do with having a man alone with her in her dressing room.

Beyond that strangeness, or perhaps because of it, she still felt a little peeved. Two years was a very long time to keep up a lie like that. She glanced sidelong at the tall, dark figure that seemed so out of place, so improbable in existence, and frowned slightly. He had his reasons, she knew that now, but it didn't make the lie any less of a lie. He had been treated terribly his entire life because of his face, and she felt much sympathy for him, yes - but that did nothing to soothe the loss of her Angel or ease the pain she still felt over it. She wondered if that made her selfish. Should all be forgiven simply because his life had been awful? But she already had forgiven him, hadn't she? Just because she forgave him didn't mean all of her bad feelings would magically disappear. She sighed. Still, him hiding behind the mirror now would do nothing to help anything.

Erik kept as much distance as he reasonably could from her. He justified the reason behind this as not wanting to unnerve her with closeness, but he couldn't deny that another large part of it was not wanting to be close enough for her to reach his mask again. It unsettled him, still. He had never thought in a million years that she would have done that to him, and the realization that he had misjudged her was one that left him sickly disoriented. What else might he be wrong about? He had thought he knew her better than that. But really, there was nothing else she could do to him, was there? She'd already unmasked him, so any danger had already passed... hadn't it? In light of how he had missed the possibility of her pulling off his mask, he suddenly wasn't sure.

The lesson plodded on, making slightly more progress than the previous one yet still not as much as before when he was only an angel. It was awkward now, for many reasons, and neither one knew if it would ever not be awkward again.

After their stilted goodbyes Erik went down into his home and wandered aimlessly for a little while. He used to jump right into composing after lessons with Christine, being inspired by her voice, but now her voice was not what it used to be - nothing was what it used to be - and he simply wasn't in the mood to compose anything. He finally settled down on the couch with a cup of tea and a book, and somewhere along the line he must have dozed off, slipping into a dream.

He was in the lesson with Christine again, except her voice wasn't the shaky, choked thing it had been earlier - no, it was vibrant and lush and everything he knew it could be. He was playing the piano, some tune he'd never heard before but it seemed so right and he knew just which keys to press but also had no idea what was coming next until he played it. Christine sat next to him on the piano bench and smiled up at him even as she sang. He smiled back at her. This - this is what their lessons should always be, he thought. He stopped playing, having reached the end of the song, and she stopped singing, though he could still hear music coming from somewhere.

He looked over at her and her smile grew bigger.

"Do you know what, Erik?"

"What?"

"I have a surprise for you!"

"Oh?" he asked eagerly. "What is it?"

She cocked her head playfully and giggled.

"Well if I tell you, it won't be a surprise anymore, silly!"

"Ah," he nodded. She was right, of course.

"Do you want to know what it is?" she suddenly grew serious, her smile disappearing.

The music had stopped. He felt uneasy. Everything seemed to be going too slow but he couldn't figure out why.

"What is it?" he asked.

The smile returned to her face. From out of nowhere she pulled out a knife and plunged it into him.

Erik woke with a gasp, shaking.

He was no stranger to nightmares, but this had been the first to feature Christine as an aggressor. He didn't dare go back to sleep after that. Christine had always been the one to soothe the horrors in his mind, not the one to cause them. Everything had changed, truly.

During their next lesson he mused that although the dream had seemed so awfully real, the thought of her pulling a knife on him was almost as realistic as her actually smiling at him - he hadn't seen her smile once after he stopped being angel. She no longer avoided looking at him, but there were no more grins or laughs or extra talk beyond what was required for the lesson. He missed it dearly, but he didn't think he'd ever get it back. He had chosen and now he had to live with that - there was no going back to how it was before.

After the fifth lesson Christine no longer felt any fear around him. She felt irked at times, and sad during most of it, but she managed to sing nonetheless.

Just managing to sing would not do for Christine Daaé, however.

It was at the end of their tenth lesson after she had unmasked him that she brought it up just before he was about to leave.

"Erik, wait-"

He sat back down on the piano bench, wanting to leave but unable to deny her the request.

She took a deep breath, gathering her nerve.

"We need to talk, Erik."