A/N I will be on vacation starting Saturday and will not have an update until probably next Thursday. Thanks for your understanding!

Chapter 13

Strange, delightful, curious feelings filled Christine's stomach following their duet. Despite her enjoyment, she felt as though something were very wrong. It didn't seem humanly possible to have such joy and not have it be a sin. Most certainly such titillation would be punished.

But, since it would be impossible for lightning to strike her while standing below the opera house, Christine forgot her fears and stared into Erik's eyes, her bosom heaving appropriately.

"You hated it," Erik said miserably once Christine stood with a smile etched on her face and her eyes glassy and unwilling to blink.

"Not at all," she said, partially dazed, her emotions still swelling. "It was very…alluring."

"Alluring?"

Christine paused. Was that the correct word?

"How so?" Erik questioned.

"Invigorating?" she tried.

"Like rain?"

Christine blushed. "Not quite that wet, but yes."

"Excuse me?"

"What did you say?" Christine countered.

Erik stared at her briefly, obviously confused. "Never mind. You found my opera alluring and invigorating?"

"And arousing," Christine added. "The way it touched my very soul and spoke to me in this powerful, feral, masculine way that defies definition."

Erik looked a little concerned, but he nodded and mulled over her answer. The visible side of his face flushed. "You find me arousing?"

"Your opera," Christine corrected. She turned away and coughed, uncertain of exactly what she found arousing and invigorating.

"Yes." Erik nodded, pleased nonetheless. "That's what I said."

Christine decided to let his comment slide. She smiled and clasped her hands. "It fills me with such joy and…and I don't know! I've never felt anything like it before. It's as though this music about this man who is someone but not the person he pretends to be somehow speaks to me. It's intriguing, alluring, invigorating, arousing, everything and more. And I want more."

Again he stared at her. "You want…more?"

"To sing. Oh, Monsieur Erik! You must allow me to sing more!"

Rubbing his left eye, Erik sat at the organ and thumbed through the papers. "I have an aria here and…"

"No, no, I can't sing an aria. We need to sing together," Christine said meekly, the curious feelings in her belly lingering still, needing more than to be merely brushed aside and forgotten. "We should sing together and you should stand so that we may properly act out the opera."

Christine saw the discomfort in his eyes as he looked her over.

"I'm not an actor. I write and play, nothing more."

"But we are alone," she pressed.

Erik nodded slowly. "You should read the script before you commit to such things."

And so Christine read the script and shuffled through the drawings Erik created for his opera. Her heart was beating wildly at all of the stroking and twirling and the dancers hopping about. It was indeed triumphant!

"I'm ready," she said after she finished reading several pages.

She glanced up and saw that Erik had wandered into the bedchamber. He emerged at the sound of her voice looking wary, his lips drawn tight and his eyes darting around.

"This would be glorious with the costumes," she said. "Your imagination is riveting!"

"You are a woman of many adjectives tonight, my dear."

Christine giggled. She really had no idea what he meant, but it sounded most fascinating. "You have ravished my mind with your riveting delightfulness," she said with a little growl that surprised her.

"Shall we sing once more?" Erik asked, taking his stance on the stairs.

"Indeed," Christine smiled, having him where she wanted him.

Well, almost.

-o-

Erik stood mesmerized as Christine began singing. His life's work was at last receiving the attention it had always deserved. Of course it wasn't on stage, but he had known from the beginning that it would never be viewed by a crowd. This was merely a project to consume his time rather than share with the world. No one would understand it, as it wasn't Mozart, he thought cynically.

However, Christine sang as though she understood, as though the music meant something to her. Perhaps not nearly as much as it meant to him, but it was as though she understood his passion—and Erik realized he was filled with passion.

But then something happened. She stopped.

"Why have you stopped?" he asked.

She blinked twice before she answered, "Because this is a duet."

"Yes."

"And you're not singing."

Erik's lips parted. He cleared his throat and nodded. "I apologize. I was…distracted."

"By?"

Erik shrugged. "It was nothing."

"You were distracted by nothing?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

Exhaling, Erik turned away from her. "By your voice," he said quietly. "By your talent. I hear you sing and it's as though you're someone different."

"Someone different?" Christine asked, obviously concerned.

"You're doing better than I ever imagined. It comes as second nature to you," he replied. "Unlike Carlotta."

"Well, some turkeys must be forced to warble," Christine said.

Her words made him chuckle, to which Christine laughed to herself. When Erik said nothing more, Christine walked up behind him and coughed delicately to garner his attention once more.

"I would like to sing the entire opera," she said.

Her words made him whip around. "You…you do?"

She nodded. "On stage."

His face sobered as he shook his head. "Never."

Grasping his wrist, Christine caught Erik before he turned away. "Why not?"

"It's not good enough. It will never be good enough. I would have to threaten them to ever perform it." Erik paused, thinking it over.

"Let me bring it to the managers."

"They have no taste."

Christine bit her lip. "You're correct. Well, what about Monsieur R—"

"That old goat?"

"He wouldn't give it a second thought."

Shifting her weight, Christine's eyes narrowed. "How many copies do you have?"

"Sixteen."

Her eyes bulged. "You have sixteen copies?"

Erik shrugged. He had an awful amount of time to spend alone. Out of boredom he made sixteen copies.

"May I have two copies?"

He exhaled, resisting her request. "Christine…"

"Give me two weeks to present the opera. I know I can put it on the stage."

His shoulders slumped as he turned away. "There is only so much rejection one can accept, Christine, and I believe I exceeded my limit years ago."

Her hand touched his arm. "Erik, I know your passion. I feel it in each note I sang tonight. This is you in this work, and I want to be filled with your passion."

She was doing it again in that way only Christine Daae could do to him.

"My passion," he exhaled. "Wants to fill you, Christine."

"Then allow your passion to fill me on stage before an audience."

Erik rolled his eyes before he turned to face her. "You have no idea what you're offering, do you?"

Her smile was sweet and innocent, but the twinkle in her eye was unmistakable. "Two weeks, Erik."