Until I'm gone, Love.

That's how long I'll love you.

Forever? Not a chance.

I don't know what forever is

Nor do you.

That promise is glass when the

whiskey's gone.

It's a smile in the dark

There's no fire in it

no truth.

While I'm here, I know life.

It's all there is. Fire and truth.

I'll love you til I'm gone.

I never decided to do this. Truly, if I'd known that this is where I would have ended up, I would have lived out my days as the melancholy, but safe, Vicomtesse. Then again, I've sometimes found that the greatest joys come from the greatest pain. I've felt pain such as would break my father's heart; kill him all over again. But one night, surrounded by whores and velvet, pain blossomed into the greatest joy I'd ever known.

Erik's lips were rough, cracked, neglected. The tremor in them told me that he expected to be shoved away at any second. I rested my hands against his chest and slid them up, his shoulders firm and very real under my palms. The towel had fallen off at some point, but the sting in my palm was nothing. Erik's hands landed on my waist and it felt strange to feel the soft touch, considering how strongly his mouth had landed on mine. Tenderness welled up in me and I could feel all the rejections he'd had, the cold of never having kissed anyone, of being unwanted. I put my hands on either side of his face, one hand on skin, the other on leather, and moved my mouth over his, softly, worshipfully, showing him how. His lips parted on a sigh and I tangled my fingers in his thin hair, bringing him closer to me, deepening the kiss.

"Don't, Christine," he whispered into my mouth, "please, don't. Don't."

I didn't listen, because I don't think he wanted me to. He was timid, waiting for me to say it was alright, even though I was showing him that it was. "I'm with you, my angel. Erik, I'm with you." I let my mouth return to his, being careful to let him catch up to me. Like with music, he was a quick study and it wasn't long before he was leaving caution behind. His hands were no longer resting on my waist, but traveling along my back, pressing me against the length of his body. His mouth wasn't waiting for me to lead, but moving with mine, matching me. When my tongue ran along his lip, his danced along mine. God, I was lost, but it wasn't enough.

I could feel the ridges of his chest through his thin shirt, and when I pulled gently on it, inching it out from where it was tucked into his pants, all I wanted was for him to let me. And when he suddenly went rigid, then pulled my hands from his body, turning around and showing me his back, I was stung. I waited for him to say something, but he stood staring at the wall, his arms at his sides, back heaving with his breaths.

"Erik, what's wrong?"

"I feel as if you're leading me through fire, Christine."

I smiled at his back and took a step toward him. "So do I."

"No," he turned, glaring at me. With a flinch, I stepped back again. "I can't do this. I know you're with me, and I know what this means, and I want it so badly. But if we do this, Christine, then there's truly no turning back, because I will not ever let you go. For me, this means forever."

Frustrated and a bit hurt, I said, "Do you really see me as a woman who gives away her innocence and leaves?"

I watched my love's eyes turn cruel as he said, "Haven't you already? How do I know that you'll stay with me, when you didn't stay with him?"

I drew back as if he'd struck me, my eyes filling with tears. "After everything," I said, my voice low, "I could hardly kiss Raoul. What you must think of me, to say something like that…" I shook my head in disgust.

His head hung forward so that I couldn't see his face. As I watched, he seemed to shrink into himself, crumpling into a chair. "I can't understand. I just can't think… why would you stay with me? I'm a demon, a monster."

I ran to him, kneeling on the floor, my hands on his arms as I looked up into his face. "Erik, you are no monster. I love-"

He placed a hand over my mouth. "I know you believe that, sweet child. But what will you believe tomorrow?"

I pulled his hand away just enough to place a soft kiss in his palm. His eyes fluttered closed. "Tomorrow, I will believe that I am the most fortunate woman in the world. To have the love of a man so special, so wonderfully unlike anyone I've ever known, is a gift. I see that now, and I'll see that tomorrow. I love you, and it's that simple. It's like I was lost in the city for hours, looking for one building, and realizing I was in its shadow the whole time. I looked up and there you were."

By now, tears were rolling down his cheek and his breathing was rapid, coming in short bursts that betrayed his turmoil. "Christine, what if… I can't? What if I hurt you? What if you destroy me again? There was hardly any of me left, I don't know what I'd do if you-"

I silenced him with my lips, rising up in one quick movement to cover his mouth with mine. "I love you," I murmured against his thin lips, letting my arms pull him towards me. This time, there was no hesitancy as he caught me in his arms and pulled me onto his lap. Our mouths worked together furiously, and that slow heat curled from my belly, working its way to my fingertips. I sighed and felt his face lose that tense, desperate expression. It was incredible to be able to feel each of his muscles relax, my whole body curled into his on the chair. It was so precious, the trust I'd finally been able to coax out of him.

Suddenly, we were no longer on the chair. Erik had secured his arms under me and lifted my body, taking my weight easily. Without taking his lips from mine, he carried me across the room, to the gaudy, ornate four-poster bed. With a reverence I didn't deserve, he laid me down on top of the linen sheets. He stood next to the bed for a moment, looking at me with something like wonder. Then, a small smile on his half-face, he crawled over me, and I was struck once again by the grace with which he moved, like waves over sand.

He proceeded to show me his love with kisses on every inch of exposed skin he could find. When he moved back to my neck, I let my hands roam into his thin hair, but found my way impeded by the string securing his mask in place. With my heart in my throat, I caught the string in my fingers, going slow so that he could stop me if he wished. I bit my lip when he did; his strong fingers reached back to catch mine.

"No, Christine."

"But, Erik, I've seen you before. It doesn't frighten me anymore. I love all of you."

"I believe you, love."

"Then-"

"Please. Maybe someday, but for now, I need it. Every time this mask has been removed, it's been met with screams and horror. Even if you don't feel that way, it's all I would be able to think of." His hand traced a slow line from my shoulder, down my side, to my hip, and I shivered. "And I don't want to think of anything but how wonderfully, unfathomably beautiful you are, and the fact that you're mine." I nodded, and he sighed. "Thank you."

With a smirk, I said. "You should know, however, that it has now become a challenge for me to make you remove it. Not tonight, maybe not for many nights, but one day, you'll lie over me and smile at me like this with your whole face. And you'll know how handsome I think you are."

And he was smiling, chuckling softly. It was beautiful. "I look forward to it, Christine…" He trailed off, his smile disappearing. "You really will stay?"

"Of course. Erik, the only time since my father died that I've felt like I can breathe is when I'm with you. It's only now that I realize what it means. I couldn't leave any more than I could take my own life."

There was no conversation for a long time. My lips were caught in much more pleasurable business as Erik returned my words with actions. I could feel his hardness pressed against my hip as his hands caught my face, angling my mouth for a kiss. I'd stumbled into enough male dressing rooms after rehearsals that I knew what was waiting under his trousers. At first, I felt nervousness fluttering in my stomach, feeling the evidence of what was about to happen pressed against me, but then he sighed against my mouth, "I love you," and my hesitations disappeared. This was my angel, and I wanted to belong completely to him.

Finally, my hands returned to his shirt and he reared up to help me remove it. His skin was ivory white, perfect except for one patch of jarring red skin on his shoulder. I knew that it matched the skin of his face, and once again felt all the honor of being allowed to see it. When he lowered again to kiss me, I was sure to place a line of kisses over his shoulder, right over that patch. Erik's lips were on my neck again and I threw my head to the side to expose more to him. I opened my eyes to see that the wall next to the bed was taken up by a large mirror. A corner of my mind balked at the thought of how many hundreds of couples were caught in that mirror, just as Erik and I were, but then his hand was pulling my skirt up, and I could see it's journey up my leg, exposing undergarments, then skin, until finally, his hand met the softness of my thigh. I watched my eyes flutter closed and marveled at the image in my mind. Erik over me, Erik loving me, touching me as I touched him.

"Tell me what you want, Christine," Erik whispered. I just looked at him, a question on my face. "I've made the mistake of not asking before."

I shook my head. "I want you."

He smiled, but his eyes were blazing, dark. "You have me. Now what do you want me to do."

My tongue darted out to wet my suddenly dry lips. I'd never felt more daring, or more beautiful, as I whispered, "Undress me." Erik sat back on his heels and brought me with him. His hands flew deftly down the buttons on my gown, then my corset, and I felt the night air on my exposed back. With a kiss to my cheek, he moved my sleeves slowly down my arms, unwrapping me. He kept his face buried in my bare shoulder, waiting for me. I beat down the urge to cover myself, and murmured, "Look at me." He did, leaning back, his hands on my waist, thumbs rubbing back and forth on my skin. His gaze roamed from my face, down, and back again. I will never forget the look in his eyes for as long as I live. I felt like the most precious thing in the world. Gently, I was laid back down to the bed, and he slipped the rest of my clothes slowly down my legs, and dropped them to the floor. Completely bare beneath him, I had never felt safer, or more aroused.

I was almost ashamed of how badly I wanted him, how desperate I was for his touch. I had to stop myself from rubbing my thighs together, from tearing his clothes off and forcing him to do something to ease the pressure. When I moaned, "Kiss me," I could see another of his walls come down. I couldn't hide how much I needed him to take me if I'd tried. He almost fell on top of me, the leather of the mask chafing my face with his kiss, but I didn't care. My hands tore at the fastenings on his trousers, and he helped me remove them. I sighed at the feeling of his body along mine, skin on skin. "Touch me, Erik. Please." Suddenly, his hands were everywhere. They skimmed along my waist, up over my breasts, making me arch into him. When a hand found its way between my legs, I almost cried out, but I bit my lip until it was only a whimper.

"Don't hide from me," he growled into my skin. "Not from me." His mouth closed over a nipple and his long finger slipped inside me, where I'd never allowed anyone before. I couldn't stop myself from crying out as his thumb began to circle me, making my body shake and pant. The pressure had been nothing to what it was now, flowing, building in me until I was writhing against his hand and mouth, my own hand gripping his wrist, begging for more. When the pressure exploded, I thought I would die from the pleasure of it. I focused on relearning to breathe and was only vaguely aware of Erik moving over me. He ran a hand down my face and I opened my eyes to see him, his half-face glistening with sweat, his eyes filled with hunger. My own grew again at the sight.

"I have to take you now, Christine," his angel's voice was low, gravelly. I'd never heard anything more beautiful. Suddenly his eyes lost some of their hunger and filled with concern. "I've never done this. I've read, I've studied, but I don't know. If at any moment you feel too much pain, you must tell me to stop."

"Pain?" I asked. I remembered some of the girls at the opera house talking. They'd said there was pain, but I'd just assumed that those girls were with cruel men. I couldn't imagine Erik doing anything to hurt me.

He nodded. "Most women feel pain the first time, but only the first. Your body adjusts. I need you now, but if I hurt you, please tell me. I will stop." He stared at me until I nodded, until he knew I understood. After the pleasure he'd given me, I couldn't imagine any pain that wouldn't be worth it.

His hand returned to my most sensitive place, his fingers working slowly in and out of me. It wasn't long before I was on the edge again, that pressure building in my core. I felt him add another finger, then another, and it still wasn't enough. "Please, Erik," I moaned. His fingers slipped out of me. "Please." I cried out again, but this time in pain, as he thrust himself inside me in one quick movement. He released a deep moan and nearly collapsed on me, his length buried inside me. Tears pricked at my eyes as my body tried to stretch for him. When he pulled back and, more softly this time, pushed back in, I couldn't hide a whimper.

He stopped. "Christine? My love, have I hurt you?"

Honestly, I was frightened. The pain was deep, such as I'd never felt. I squeezed my eyes shut and turned my face from him, my hands in fists at my side. When I opened my eyes again, I saw us reflected in that mirror, the room soft with candlelight. We were as close as two people could be, his pale body flush with mine. The mirror showed the uncovered side of his face, and it was filled with concern and fear. He was staring down at me, terrified that he'd hurt me. My hands relaxed, my breaths slowed, and I turned back to him. "It does hurt, but don't stop." I rested my hand on his face and rose up to kiss him. "Maybe, go very slowly."

He nodded, then his eyes fluttered closed as he moved, so softly, in me. I lay back and tried my best to relax, letting myself think of nothing but how much I loved him. Soon, that sharp pain in me began to turn to something else. His head lowered to my breast again, his tongue circling my nipple. One hand propped him above me, clenching in the sheets in time with his groans. I watched him; every muscle tensed and relaxed seemingly independent of the others. I saw when his other hand moved down from my chest to where our bodies met, watched as his finger dipped into my curls and pressed against a part of me that set me on fire. There was still pain, but now it was fighting with the pleasure, and soon, it became just another feeling. When the explosion came in me again, it surprised us both. Erik's slow and steady rhythm changed and he thrust into me with abandon, seeking his own pleasure. I was grateful that I could see it, that I could watch as his eyes rolled back and closed, his mouth open in a silent shout. And when he lowered himself over me, still inside me, and sighed my name, I knew I was right. The pain had been worth it.

I'm so sorry this chapter has taken so long to come out. I'm the worst.

So I've tried to lay on the cheese a little bit in this chapter, because I think that's how Christine would think. I can't forget that she's still very young when the events with the Phantom take place, and I think that innocence and hunger for love is what originally drew him to her. She's young and in love, and that comes with all the melodrama!

Also, remember that my Phantom is, at least in appearance, based mostly on Gerard Butler's. I may take some liberties...