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"No! No! You are singing it all wrong!"

Erik gives me a menacing glare as his hands cease their movement on the keys. My last note lingers in the silent air for an extra moment while I release all my breath.

I stop wearily. "I don't understand what I am doing incorrectly—"

"Yesterday you sang it fine! What has happened to you?"

I grow upset. "My voice doesn't sound any different than it did yesterday!"

"Silence!" He stands up, coming behind me. "Where is your support? It's hampering your phrases!"

His hand draws up my back without touching me, and I automatically straighten, following the movement his hand makes.

"That's better." he says approvingly, and I feel warm with pride. "Now let's sing it again."

I lift up my chin as Erik starts his bizarre introduction he has written for this piece. I am concentrating in such a way that my eyebrows furrow and my hands clench.

Alas, Erik notices.

He does not grow furious, as I expected. Instead, he sighs and puts his hands in his lap. "I think it is time for bed, sweetheart. You are very tired."

I look down at my nails. "I know I am disappointing you."

"Hardly." he says, but his tune is short and unconvincing. I trudge towards the door. "Aren't you coming?" I ask, when it appears that he is not following.

"I must stay in here for a while. There are things that must be done to this piece."

I frown. "You didn't come to dinner last night either."

"You are speaking the truth."

I cross my arms to go with my scowl. "I have no one to talk to while I eat."

"How strange." he muses aloud. "I seem to recall that during our first days of matrimony, you were silent as a stone and avoided my eye at all costs."

I fix him with a beady stare. "I was very angry and confused, Erik. I did not want anything to do with you." I feel a little hurt that he is reprimanding me for my past actions. Would he like me to remind him of all the cruel things he has done to me?

"And then one day you woke up and magically loved me." he said dreamily.

"That is not true." I felt tears sting my eyelids. "I had to learn, Erik, and I'm still learning. And it's quite difficult at some times!"

He gave a mournful chuckle. "Why do you have to get so defensive about everything I say? There was once a time when you did whatever I said without question; you nodded, you followed wherever I pointed. You hardly made any noise, except when you sang. Meek, little, insignificant girl! What has happened to her?"

"You want me to go back to that?" I ask. "I like to think that you are making me grow up, but I can recess to the point where I still do not trust you and you do not trust me. Where I act like a ninny and never contribute. Where I never touch you, never kiss you, never want anything to do with you!"

He looks alert. There is horror in his eyes. "Christine would not do that to Erik!" he whispers pitifully. "Christine loves Erik!"

I feel guilty for what I have said. How ridiculous! I should not feel guilty for speaking the truth! Even so, I look into his eyes and feel my heart move.

I had to stop hurting this man.

"I am sorry for saying such things." I tell him softly. I go across the room and put my hand on his shoulder. He flinches—something he has not done in a while. I cup my hand under his cold chin so he will look at me. "I would never do that to you."

"Don't hurt Erik anymore, Christine." he says, looking away. "Please?"

I kiss him very lightly on the lips. "I promise. Now, will you come and eat with me?"

He gives me a little shove. "No. Leave me alone. I must finish this."

"Erik—"

"I am not hungry! Speak to yourself."

I pout. I am not hungry either, but normal human beings eat. I go out of the room and settle on a quick dinner. As I sit at the table, I stare at my food blankly.

"Speak to myself?" I say out loud. I wait. It is still silent in the other room. I wonder if Erik can hear me.

I sigh when I realize that I actually contemplated talking to myself. Perhaps I am going crazy, locked up in this dungeon house. I attack the food more viciously than necessary and eat as fast as I can.

When I am finished with dinner, I leave the plate on the table and go back into the drawing room. The candle has run low so that most of the room is in shadow and it is very difficult for me to see.

I stumble into the room where I can see Erik's shadow at the keys. "Erik? It is so dark in here!"

He turns. "Is it?" he asks. "I am so sorry, I did not notice. I know how it bothers you. You may relight the candles, if you wish."

I feel my way over, but it is already too dark for me to see where I am going. I run into something. I hear Erik sigh. "That would be the couch, my dear."

I pull myself upright, blushing. Tripping around Erik is completely embarrassing for me, seeing that I have never seen Erik take anything less than a perfectly measured step. I tug on my dress, which appears to be caught on the corner of the cushion. "I am stuck." I whisper.

His shadow comes and moves over me, pulling on the fabric on my dress and pushing me into a sitting position on the couch. "Thanks you." I say, but he stands still before me, his hand still holding onto my dress.

He sinks to his knees before me. His glowing eyes do not seem to be on my face, but on the corner of my lavender dress. I grow uneasy. "Erik, wh-what are you doing? I thought you were going to go light the candles!"

My voice rises to a hysterical wail at the end and I realize I am quite frightened. He is level at my waist and utterly still on the floor, while I quiver on the couch. He releases the fabric slightly, so that in runs through his fist and comes up my face, sitting on the couch beside me. He is so very, very close to me, both his hands on either side of me, forcing me to remain where I was.

He kisses me. The brave, bold man kisses me without permission, without asking, without letting me do it first. He kisses me.

I am so used to him be so polite and behaved under my touch, so that feeling him actually seeking me out, his hands responding to me, feels—nice. Normal? I resolve quickly that I will not be the one who is a statue under him, so I kiss him back.

Yes, I kiss Erik. I kiss his ugly lips and enjoy it.

Poor Raoul… you were so sweet, Raoul, but you were never brave enough to kiss me… I had to kiss you, do you remember?...Erik kisses me… Erik loves me…

I feel another stab of fear when I realize he is pushing down on me so that I am almost lying down flat on the couch. He is not on top of me, so to speak, but hovering over me, half on the floor, and half on the couch.

I find myself gasping for breath. "Erik, don't—"

He is ignoring me.

"What are you doing? Stop it! I can't—I—"

His hand is up my dress. Slowly, going up to my knee. And then stopping.

The folds of my gown are so heavy and the cushions are pressed up against me, so that I might not have even noticed it if his hands weren't so cold. His hand lingers around my ankle and then pulls out.

I start to cry as I feel him disappear from over me and go to relight the candles.

"Don't cry." he says, coming and gathering me into his arms. "Don't cry, my angel, nothing is wrong. Nothing is worth crying over."

I shudder in his arms, my heart confused. Such a violent flash of fear had stirred in me like never before. "You scared me—"

"I know, I know!" he interrupts, his voice a little rough. "I always scare you."

I lay silent, my feeble tears coming to a stop. "I love you." I say weakly. I have no idea what else to say. I just need reassurance… I need to know that I am safe and no one will ever harm me… Erik will never harm me.

"Yes, I know that."

I curl up. "Erik, I don't know what I am thinking half the time." I complain, my voice sounding like a child's. "I don't know what my feelings are for you, I don't know how to interpret anything you do."

"No one ever could." he says softly. "How can I fault you for that?"

It comforts me to hear him speaking so sane. He sounds calm and cool, his words logical and understanding. Yes, this is the Erik that I love.

"Do not forget, Erik, I am only a child—"

"No, you are not." he cuts in. "You are so very contradictory, Christine! You are not a child, you are a woman. And you are my wife."

"Then what do you want from me?" I ask hopelessly.

"Love, Christine." he answers quietly. "All I've ever wanted from you. "

I panic, confused. His actions of a minute ago had given me a different idea. "But—I thought—you told me that you wanted me…" I cannot say any more without blushing. He may have suddenly become honest about his actions, but I cannot be so forthcoming.

"And so I do!" he says, and his voice suddenly sounds desperate and I still cannot look at him. "But all you have to say is 'no', all you have to do is tell me, and I can be content with what I do have!"

Ah, yes. Have I been leading him on, with my kisses, my tender showings of love? That's all I want to offer right now.

"Say it, Christine. Tell me you never want that, and it will leave my mind forever."

I highly doubt that, but I realizing he is sacrificing something of himself for my happiness. If I tell him 'never', I know it will be 'never'.

"I don't know."

His voice is shocked and astounded. "You don't k—"

"Not now."

"Not ever?"

I finally look up at him, and he is looking at me so dramatically, looking at me as if he has never properly seen me before. "Not now." I repeat.

"Christine…" he murmurs.

"I should go to bed now." I say. I climb lightly out of his lap and to the door. "Goodnight, Erik."

He stares at me in wonder. "You…"

Erik and I are experts in abrupt dismissals. I blow him a kiss and disappear.

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