I wanted to put this chapter up because I'm not sure if I'll be able to post next week. If I do, just count it as a double post :) Thank you for reading!

Christine stopped at the cafe on the way home, fury still flowing through her veins and wanting nothing more than to see Erik and prove to Meg that she was making the right decision. She didn't notice how hard she placed her debit card down on the counter or the wince from the barista. When she was handed two grande sized iced teas, she thanked them politely and put a more than necessary tip in the jar. She missed the relieved glances from the workers as she spun on her heel and headed out.

The confidence in her decision faltered when she came to a stop in front of Erik's apartment door. His BMW was out front and suddenly, this whole idea of barging into his apartment with iced tea to somehow prove anything sounded ridiculous. She was being horrendously childish and he wouldn't appreciate that.

"Hey Christine!"

She turned and saw Lance jogging up to her from the street, wearing sweats and a hoodie, appearing to have just come back from a run. His brown hair was slick against his glistening forehead as he grinned.

Since he had moved in beside her he'd tried talking to her numerous times when they crossed paths, and she had to remind herself that he was just being friendly. He hadn't once said anything forward to her and for that, she appreciated it. She had been admittedly worried he would try something.

"Oh, Lance. Hey, how are you?" She greeted him with a return smile.

"I'm good. Just enjoying the day." He glanced at the identical teas in her hands. "Having a tea party?"

Her cheeks flushed and she laughed awkwardly. "Um, sorta. I was planning on giving the other one to my…" her eyes swiveled to the door beside her that she had yet to knock on. "My teacher."

"Oh, you have lessons today? I thought those were on Tuesdays." He wiped off his brow with his sleeve.

She was surprised that he knew about such a day but didn't think about it long and didn't correct him. She had been spending more than just Tuesday evenings with Erik for a long time now.

"Um, yeah. I do," she answered. "He's been such a great help to me that I wanted to show my thanks."

"How thoughtful. I'm sure he'd appreciate it," he said, then tilted his head. "Don't you have lessons at the theater? Would you like a ride?"

Christine briefly shut her eyes, realizing what sort of situation she was in. Lance didn't know her teacher lived underneath her apartment. Before she could respond, however, she was cut off by the door of A1 opening.

She jumped and spun around, starting at the sight of Erik in all his glory standing in the doorway, sunlight creating a white sheen along his full face mask. His pale yellow eyes glanced from her to Lance, then back at her. Her heart raced in her chest. "Christine," he said, drawing out the syllables to make it sound more like a question, causing her stomach to flutter at the sound.

"Um… I was just about to knock. I —" she dared to look back at Lance and he was frozen, staring at Erik with his mouth gaping. "This is Lance," she quickly introduced, feeling more uncomfortable than she ever had in her life. "He moved into the apartment next to me a few weeks ago."

Lance seemed to carefully compose himself and cleared his throat. "I've known Christine for much longer than that," he just had to point out. His hands began shaking though and she could tell Erik's intimidating appearance was making him anxious.

Erik visibly stiffened and Christine wanted to smack Lance for his big mouth. She had to act quickly. "Lance is a friend of a friend."

Lance looked a little stung by the comment but Christine was more worried over Erik's reaction. He was incredibly insecure and she didn't need him jumping to any more conclusions.

"I see," Erik articulated, making no effort to introduce himself.

Christine wavered and peeked back at Lance. "This is my vocal teacher." She pushed her hair behind an ear with her elbow, the condensation from the iced tea leaking down to her arm.

Lance's eyes widened and seemed to take in Erik in a new light. "This is…? Oh, I see," he said despondently, clearing his throat again. "Well, it was… nice to meet you. See you later Christine." He flashed her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and headed up the stairwell.

Christine shifted in her shoes as she dared to look back up at Erik. He was still staring motionless at the stairwell.

"I'm sorry about that… he came up on me when I was coming to your door," she made an effort to clarify and then smiled in amusement. "I think you spooked him."

Erik's eyes flashed back to her and she was surprised to see how calm he was. Not at all what it had been like when it came to Raoul, although Erik did not know she'd attempted to date Lance at one time.

"I have that effect on people," he stated and then peered down at the melting iced teas in her hands, as if noticing them for the first time. "What is that?"

Christine brightened a little too enthusiastically. "Tea! I wanted to have tea with you."

Erik eyed her and then adjusted his mask. "You did?"

Christine laughed nervously, remembering her foolish reasonings prior. "Yes. Maybe we could have an impromptu lesson?"

Erik's eyes lit up then, making her smile widen. Before they could make any movement, however, a sound from inside his apartment caught her attention. She chanced a glance around his arm and was surprised to see Karim.

Erik scowled at the man as he casually pushed Erik aside to appear before her. "Christine! How pleasant to see you."

Christine smiled uneasily, noticing the murderous glare Erik was giving his old friend. "Karim. I see that Erik's a popular man this afternoon." Erik's eyes sharply turned to her, burning her cheeks. "Um, well, I didn't know you had company. I'll just enjoy these with a cheesy movie—"

"Nonsense!" Erik suddenly intervened, his hand reaching outward as if to stop her, but coming up short, not touching her. He was wearing his gloves, she noticed with dismay. "He was just leaving." He threw a pointed glare in Karim's direction.

Karim put his hands up in surrender. "I can tell when I'm not wanted," he said with amusement. "Have a lovely evening, Christine. Erik." He gave a curt nod to his tall friend and swiftly walked past them to leave.

Christine turned and smiled at his retreating back. "You too!"

"Christine, you have water dripping from your hands," Erik's muffled tenor voice pointed out from behind the mask and she followed his gaze to see that it was true.

She grimaced. "I didn't expect to be out in the sun with them for so long."

Erik immediately moved aside and gestured her in. "Please."

She smiled shyly at him before walking inside his apartment for the first time.

Surprisingly, despite it being the same floor plan as her own, it looked more like his work office than the tiny old apartment she knew it to be. Instead of the shaggy brown carpet she was used to, a room length Persian rug covered it completely. A black leather couch was on the far wall, in exactly the same spot her brown one was. Black drapes hung over the newly installed blinds and instead of a glass coffee table, which she knew adorned the room previously, a dark cherry wood one sat in its place. Every inch of the white drab walls were covered with black, foamy tiles. A golden, tall lamp with a chandelier shade sat next to the couch, illuminating the darkened room that did not house any ounce of natural light at all.

She turned and glanced at Erik to see him standing at the obvious centerpiece in the living room. A baby grand, black piano. Behind it sat a beautiful violin. She inhaled slowly, smelling the strong scent of rosin, sandalwood, and something spicier that she hadn't smelled before.

This was his home.

Erik had been staring at her as she took it all in and before she knew it, was at her side, taking the plastic cups of tea from her hands. She wiped her wet hands and arms on the skirt of the white floral sundress she wore.

"I understand if you'd rather not drink them now. They're probably watered down," she told him feebly, regretting the dumb idea to buy them in the first place.

"Nonsense." He gracefully went into the kitchen with a couple strides of his long legs. "It was a thoughtful gesture."

She was relieved he thought so. He returned after a moment with two glasses filled with the tea. Despite the obvious effect of the heat outside, the majority of the ice cubes were surprisingly still intact.

"Here. This will keep it from leaking all over you and my carpet." He handed the glass over to her and she gratefully took it from him.

"Thank you," she said, smiling up at him before taking a sip. She glanced around again, impressed. "I like what you did with the place. It looks nothing like my apartment." She laughed. "Mine looks horrible compared to yours."

Erik didn't move, holding the other glass with long gloved fingers, while gazing down at her. "You just moved in a few months ago, Christine. I've had plenty of time to furnish mine."

"I suppose that's true. Eight years is a long time." She paused, eyeing him. "Do you not like that kind of tea?"

Erik finally tore his eyes from her to look at the glass of tea in his hand, as if remembering it was there. She watched in bated breath as he slowly turned, putting his back to her. His mask was slid upwards just slightly upon his head, and she figured he was taking a sip from the glass. The mask was replaced rather quickly and he turned back around. "It's better than I assumed it would be."

Christine tried not to gape, moreso at his words than his insistence to hide his face. "You've never had iced tea before?"

His free hand adjusted his mask, eyes flickering away from her face. "I prefer warmer liquids. They're better for your voice."

Christine laughed in disbelief, despite herself. "Well you've definitely been missing out. Iced tea is the best during a hot summer day."

"Noted." He hesitated, before setting his glass down on a coaster upon the coffee table, then straightened his back. "You said you'd like a lesson? It just so happens my hand is healed enough to play at my full capacity."

Christine brightened at the news. "That's great! I've been looking forward to hearing you play," she admitted. He had done his best with one hand, but it hadn't been anything like he was with both.

"Is that so?" He said, eyes gleaming, and turned around to sit at the piano. She sat her glass down next to his and walked over, watching his hands poise over the piano before effortlessly falling into a melody that she didn't recognize. It began slowly, but grew more intense, to the point where his hands were flying across the keys in superhuman speed. She could only watch in fascination and stunned silence.

When the song ended, he merely stared at her, eyes glittering with what she read as amusement.

"What?" She asked with a small laugh.

"Nothing. Let's begin." He straightened back up. "Scales."

And so she did. She wasn't sure how long they were at it but she was lost once more in the music that they coaxed from each other. She completely forgot the whole situation with Meg and the original reason she had wanted to see him. His playing had a different enthusiasm than she'd ever heard. She was swept up in it, heart soaring, voice rising and hitting notes she thought she was incapable of. The little Italian she had learned since working for her audition and hopeful career at the theater, helped her to enunciate the opera piece he placed in front of her.

"You're improving just as I knew you would," Erik told her when he shut the fallboard and turned to look at her. She smiled, appreciating his earnest appraisal.

"Thanks to you," she told him humbly, rubbing her throat as if in disbelief anything like what she had sung had actually come from her. "I barely recognize my voice any longer."

His eyes shined. "It has been within you this whole time, Christine. I knew this from the moment I first heard you sing. It was stuck, unused, and caged. I merely helped you set it free."

She smiled briefly at him, her cheeks flushing. He stared at her in such a way that never ceased to get her heart racing. She swallowed and went over to his couch, sitting herself down and peering at the melted ice teas that they had forgotten about.

"Does Karim come here often?" She wondered to him.

He turned around on the piano and looked at her from across the room. She wished he'd come sit beside her. He rarely came too close when they weren't singing. His hand on her felt like a lifetime ago.

"He does, no matter how many times I've threatened his life," he told her with slight irritation. "He believes he needs to check up on me. Even though he ceased being my babysitter years ago."

Christine fought amusement at his words toward Karim. Their friendship was a peculiar one. "What does he think you'll do? Burn the place down?"

Erik waved a hand dismissively. "More than likely, but let's not speak of him."

Christine grinned. "Well, I think it's sweet of him to worry about you."

Erik rolled his eyes, getting to his feet. "He's an old busy body, that is all he is, Christine."

"Well, I do believe I know what you mean. My friend, Meg, is the same. She's been trying to set me up with men for years, even though I've repeatedly told her I wasn't interested in a relationship."

Erik stiffened and averted his eyes at her words and her smile faltered, realizing her mistake.

"T-That was before though," she quickly tried to remedy before he thought otherwise.

Erik's hand absently went to his mask as he slowly walked over to the couch and hesitantly sat down on the far end, much farther than she'd prefer.

"And what exactly have you told your friend about me?"

Christine swallowed, feeling her cheeks get hot at his question. "I… pretty much everything, to be honest." His eyes shot to her face and she bit her lip. "Well perhaps not everything, but close."

"And you trust her?"

Christine nodded, smiling softly. Even though she and Meg were currently disagreeing, she would always trust her. "Yes. With my life. She is like a sister to me. Her and Antionette, her mother, are the only family I have."

"Antoinette… Giry?" He questioned curiously and she nodded, surprised that he knew. "She is the ballet mistress at the theater. Meg, your friend, is her daughter?"

"Yes. Do you know them?"

Erik settled back on his couch, seeming to relax a little. "Yes. Antoinette mostly. She is a valuable asset to the theater and I trust her. Meg is young but shows much talent in dancing. She will go far." He paused, glancing at her. "I will trust your judgment."

She smiled, relieved to hear such a thing. "Good. I know you value your privacy. I didn't tell her where your office was or the secret passages or anything, so don't worry about it. Your secret is safe with me."

"I had no doubts."

Her heart fluttered at his words. A brief silence fell over them and she lowered her eyes to her hands. She wished he would just tell her how he felt so she wasn't left guessing, then perhaps she'd gain the courage to confess her own feelings.

She dared to look up to find him staring. She was unsure what he was thinking and so decided to keep him talking about safer topics. "What is your favorite movie?"

Erik gazed blankly at her for a moment and she wondered if he had heard her when he spoke. "I don't have one."

"Really? I'll have to convince you to watch one with me one day," she threw a smile at him. "Meg comes over all the time and watches them with me. She is actually quite the movie buff. Perhaps we could start with the Incredible Hulk."

"I've never been fond of television," he admitted, "but I'd be interested in learning what your favorites are."

She blushed and she tried to play it off like she was interested in the lamp beside her. "I'm more of a romance movie girl. You may not like them."

"Anything you enjoy, I will appreciate."

Her heart pounded and she risked looking back over at him. He was staring down at her fumbling hands in her lap. She immediately stilled them. She glanced over at his hands. The one closest to her was laying relaxed on the seat between them as if he was hoping she would touch him again.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she slowly reached for his gloved hand. She heard a sharp inhale from behind the mask and she avoided his eyes, instead staring down at his hand in new interest. She ran her thumb along the cool, smooth leather, wishing it was his skin she was touching. "I wish you didn't wear gloves all the time."

"My skin…." he choked on his words when her eyes flashed curiously. "It's not normal, Christine."

Of course, she already knew that. "It doesn't bother me."

He didn't believe her, that was clear even in his full mask, but he didn't take his hand away so she felt courageous enough to tentatively pull his glove from his long fingers. He allowed her to, body frozen. For the first time, she had the opportunity to take a close look at his skin. It was a pale almost yellow color, with clear bone and veins evident as if he barely had skin to cover them. She swallowed thickly. Surely if he had a dire condition he would have said something by now, right?

She ran her thumbs over the velvety soft skin and she wasn't sure if she imagined the soft noise that came from behind the mask. "Your hand is always so cold," she whispered. Even though he had been wearing gloves, it was like it had been submerged in ice.

"I'm sorry," He immediately began pulling his hand away but she caught it once more, stopping him.

"No, I didn't mean that it was a bad thing." She met his eyes, seeing both fear and longing dwell inside them. "I like holding your hand."

She watched as she ran her fingers up his wrist, over his knuckles, over the long thin fingers that effortlessly played the piano. His hand began to tremble.

"... Why?" He asked her, a little over a whisper, and she looked up. "Why do you like holding… it? It can't be pleasant for you."

"Why wouldn't it be? It's your hand… I like you. That should be obvious by now," she tried to smile at him, hopeful that her confession would be met by a similar one from him. He instead tore his gaze away and pulled his hand free from her grip to clench his hand into a fist. She instantly felt the loss and could physically feel him distancing himself again. The rejection hurt. Perhaps she shouldn't have said anything.

"I do not need your pity, Christine."

Christine furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "It's not pity. I do like you."

He sighed deeply. "Perhaps you wouldn't like me or want to touch me if you knew."

"If I knew what?" She was fearfully sitting on the edge of the couch.

Without answering her, he got to his feet. "Nothing." He walked to the piano and stood there for a moment. She swallowed nervously, unsure of what had just happened. Finally, he took a deep breath and turned to face her. "I'd like to take you somewhere." Her mind spun with the sudden change of mood but attempted to keep up, although this time it was more difficult to do.

"Alright," she said anyway, dropping the subject for now. Nevertheless, she could not ignore the strong ache in her heart at the fact he had disregarded her feelings and the voice in the back of her head sounding suspiciously like Meg.

Before I go, I wanted to explain something. I'm not sure if my writing communicates this, so I figured I would say it. If it does - then good! Lol

Christine and Erik have never had a relationship before. She's had a little high school fling but it wasn't real. She is still quite naive and childish in her thinking when it comes to romance and she wants to give Erik the benefit of the doubt because not only is she kind, but she sees the man behind the mask, even though she doesn't truly understand it yet. It's also a kind of blind infatuation where you ignore the red flags until you can't anymore. Erik of course isn't a bad person and he really does like her - more than Christine realizes. The thing with Erik is that he can't fully give himself up to her, even though he wants to, because she hasn't seen him without the mask and also doesn't know about his life before her. He believes she will not like him or even be friends with him once she learns that. Also, he's painfully awkward because he never thought anyone would want to be with him and doesn't want to fail her, as he's a perfectionist, and so he holds himself back to not scare her off. In a lot of ways, Christine is doing the same. So they're kind of just dancing around each other. Don't worry, it won't last forever so I hope you don't get bored.

If you already knew this, then disregard my comment lol I just wanted to make sure it was clear why they were behaving the way they are right now. I haven't heard a lot of comments recently so I just was worried I had bored you or something. That's just me being an over thinker though! Lol

Have a great weekend!