I revised the first four or so chapters. There were just a few minor changes, nothing big. But you might want to reread the first chapter - I changed the reason why Amelia gets captured. And in chapter 7 I added the 'velvet box'...

But enjoy this chapter! It has taken a long time to get this one done.

Angel and Demon

As Erik lay there in his bed, the same question kept floating throughout his mind. Why does Monsieur Reyer want me to observe a flute lesson? And only Giselle's? He shook his head, still utterly confused by the letter. Just watching one flute lesson wouldn't 'immensely help his musical skills'. Erik took off his mask and set it on the side table. It seemed rather suspicious, but he didn't want to disobey Charles. Perhaps this really would help him musically.

He woke up the following morning with an odd feeling of dread hanging over him. Today was Giselle's lesson. Erik didn't know why he was so anxious about it. He sleepily walked over to a small mirror hanging on the stone wall and looked at his reflection. His eyes gazed intently at the deformity; his long fingers lightly grazed the marred skin. Erik did this every day, reminding himself that he was not normal. After looking away from his reflection, he harshly combed his thick hair back.

As he picked up a fresh shirt, Erik looked over at his piano. The music that he and Amelia had written was sitting on it. Smiling slightly, he walked over to the piano and touched the paper. Mia…

A sudden thought threw him out of his reverie. Erik ran his hand through his hair, and then started biting his finger. Was this a mistake? He quickly finished getting dressed and ran as fast as he could up the countless flights of stairs. Once he reached Monsieur Reyer's office, Erik took a few slow breaths, and then knocked. After a few moments, Charles opened the door. The man looked rather hassled, as he had the last time Erik saw him. Monsieur Reyer smiled for a brief moment, as if relieved Erik weren't someone else. "Erik, please, come in," he said.

Erik stepped over the threshold into Monsieur Reyer's office and then turned to look at him. He held up the note and looked at him.

"I don't want to question your knowledge or power, Monsieur Reyer. The only inquiry I have is about the date. Did you realize that I teach Amelia on Thursdays at six o'clock?"

Charles glanced at the note and hesitated. "Oh. It must have slipped my mind… Would you mind rescheduling her lesson? I would really appreciate it if you'd accompany me to Giselle's."

Erik lifted his hand and gnawed at the callous on his finger, "Perhaps just this once."

Monsieur Reyer's expression was almost undecipherable, but Erik knew that he saw happiness and devastation there. It was a rather odd combination.

After a few moments of strange silence, Charles said, "Well, I'm glad we got this cleared up. But if you don't mind, I have quite a bit of work to catch up on."

"Of course," Erik said, letting himself out.

"Thank you very much."

Erik stole one last glance at his teacher as the door slowly closed. One of Charles's hands was atop his head, the other searching through the sea of papers on his desk. He felt sorry for him – he looked rather helpless.

Erik sat down next to Amelia at their usual table. She looked over at him and smiled. Though she obviously looked pleased to see him, she appeared to be very tired. She yawned widely.

"Are you alright?" Erik asked.

She rubbed her eyes. "I stayed up pretty late last night looking at our music."

He felt his stomach drop when she said 'our'.

"It was just so… I don't know. It's addicting, I guess. I couldn't stop thinking about it. And I couldn't stop revising it, either." Amelia pulled out a small stack of music. Her writing was all over the score. "I hope you don't mind," she said, rather shyly.

He took the music and gazed at it for a moment. Her ideas were incredible. Erik couldn't believe some of the things she wrote.

"No… that's absolutely fantastic that you did this. This shows how much your musical knowledge has broadened." He looked up at her. "And I know what you mean about it being addicting." When Erik wrote his song for Amelia, he had stayed up all night and didn't eat anything. He actually had never been hungry all that day and night.

They talked about the music for the rest of breakfast. Erik praised her multiple times on her revisions. When the subject of her lessons came up, he remembered what he had been dreading earlier that morning.

"Something has come up. Monsieur Reyer has scheduled me to observe another lesson at that time. We don't have to have lessons today, if you don't want."

She looked disappointed.

"We could work on the music, though. Just earlier, perhaps after lunch again?"

Amelia smiled. "I'd like that."

He nodded. "Well, I'll have to get more paper."

"Sorry about that."

Erik stood and smiled at her. As he walked behind her, he let his fingers brush along her hair against her back. Amelia knew that he had touched her. She felt her eyes slide closed and her heart begin to thump against her ribcage. She bit her lip. What was it about his hands that intoxicated her so? This feeling they left her with… it just didn't seem possible. It had lasted for only a moment, but the feeling stayed with her all day.

Erik, unknowing of his affect on her, was still savoring the feeling of her hair as he left the dining hall. He took his time walking down to his home. Everything seemed to be terrible earlier, but now he couldn't be happier. Erik took a detour down a corridor full of practice rooms. He peeked through the window of the large practice room, wondering if it was occupied. What he saw rather surprised him.

A dark-haired woman's back was facing him. She was leaning over someone who was sitting down. Erik's brow furrowed. Were they kissing? Then he realized the woman's high class attire. This had to be Giselle. But who was she hanging all over? When she moved out of the way, Erik could see the man's face, but he didn't recognize him. Once she turned around, he saw her up close for the first time. She had deep green eyes and ebony hair. Erik realized how pretty she was.

He turned and walked away from the door. Ignoring what he just saw, Erik went straight to the grotto and retrieved the blank papers. He sat down at the piano bench. Why had he taken notice of Giselle? He felt his jaw muscles clench. There was nothing to like about her. Sure, she was pretty, but she wasn't a good person. Erik closed his eyes. But why did he look at her like that? He was in love with Amelia.

Amelia. Erik felt himself forgetting about Giselle immediately. He looked down at the blank staffs in front of him. In a few hours, these papers would be full of her writing. Their music. He gently set the paper aside and pulled out his song for Amelia. There was something about this song that always made his heart ache for her. But it was a good feeling. It reminded him that he still loved her.

He still loved her.

Amelia opened the door to the practice room Erik told her to be at. She set down her violin case and took out the instrument. After tuning it, she set their song on the piano. She had practically memorized it now. Amelia played the music with her heart. Her eyes were closed, but she could see the music as if it were written on the inside of her eyelids. She could tell that it sounded beautiful. But she knew that it sounded even better on the piano with Erik playing it.

Once she finished, Amelia opened her eyes and sat down on the piano bench.

"That was beautiful." She felt herself shiver from that familiar voice.

"Thank you," she turned around to find Erik holding a stack of paper with blank staffs on them. "Though, it's even more beautiful on the piano."

Erik smiled thoughtfully down at her. They gazed contently at each other for a moment. Amelia licked her lips and faced the piano. Erik sat next to her on the bench and placed the music in front of them. He stared at her markings once more before playing. Her ideas sounded even better than she had expected.

When the song came to an end, Erik kept his hands poised on the keys. He gazed at the music in front of him. This was incredible. He had never heard anything so beautiful. Erik picked up the blank paper and began writing the music in along with their revisions. It was much easier to read this way. As he wrote, Amelia played a few of the notes gently on the piano. She was obviously not trained on the piano, but she knew where the notes were. He oddly found her amateur tinkering attractive.

He looked over at her as she pressed a few more keys. Erik wanted so badly to voice his feelings. He wanted to kiss her and hold her and tell her that he loved her. But the time wasn't right. Not yet.

Amelia stopped tinkering and turned toward him on the piano bench. She watched how he intently wrote each note. Her eyes caressed his hands, his fingers. She was reminded of when he touched her hair earlier and Amelia felt her feelings resurfacing. Was it right to like him, though? Could they do that?

She swallowed, hoping her feelings would follow. Amelia opened her mouth to speak, but then shut it again; she wasn't sure what to say. There was something that she wanted to ask, but she felt strange asking it. After biting her lip for a few moments, she spoke.

"Is there more?"

Erik looked over at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

"More music? …Can we write more?" she felt childish asking him like this.

Erik froze. Was she asking to spend more time with him so they could write more music together? "Of – of course," he replied, almost breathless.

Amelia gave him a timid smile and looked back at the piano. She bit her lip again, longing to ask another question, but fearing she'd sound completely idiotic. Erik saw her internal struggle written on her face. "What is it?" he asked softly. She glanced at him, and then fixed her eyes on her hands. "You'll think it's childish."

"I'd never think that of an idea you came up with," he said motioning toward the music she had revised.

Amelia bit the inside of her cheek as she thought how to word her proposal. "I've been thinking of this song as… a ballet… in an opera." She licked her lips nervously. "This song has inspired me to write the rest of the opera. With you."

Erik looked over at her, rather astonished that she would even mention him in her great scheme. Amelia hadn't looked up from her hands at all, afraid of his reaction.

"Mia," he whispered.

Her head whipped quickly to the side to stare at him. The name triggered something in her brain. No one had ever called her Mia before. It left a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach. It was something she hadn't felt in a very long time. Could it be… joy? As she looked into his dark eyes, she felt her heart pounding beneath her ribcage. What was this? Why did she suddenly feel this way?

"Amelia." His voice made her realize that she was staring at him. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

She swallowed. What did she have in mind? Amelia squinted while she tried to remember. Her cheeks grew slightly pink. "Again, you'll think it's childish."

"You have my same response as before," Erik said, looking at her.

"There was this story I used to read my younger sister when I lived in Nice. It was a fairytale and it always seemed incomplete to me." Amelia paused, embarrassed.

"Go on," he urged. Erik had a strange feeling that he knew what it was going to be.

"It was called Angel of Music. Every time you play the song we wrote, I imagine…." She felt incredibly foolish at this point. Amelia had never spoke of the scene she always saw when Erik played their song.

Even though he saw the light blush playing on her cheeks, Erik really wished for her to continue. "What do you imagine?" he asked softly.

"I picture Little Lotte dancing with her Angel of Music." Amelia looked away as she felt her blush deepen.

"That is a very creative and romantic motive you have," Erik said in all seriousness. She lifted her eyebrow and looked up at him, suspecting sarcasm.

"No, really. I find that very intriguing. I've never thought of it that way. Do you mean to say that they are in love?"

Amelia found his ardent reaction rather surprising. "Well…yes, actually. I've always imagined Little Lotte falling in love with her Angel, even though he is not human. Although, I'm still not sure how they could be dancing if that is true…"

Erik just watched her as she tried to find a loophole to make her dream a fictional reality. He was quite intrigued with this whole thing. As a matter of fact, he was eager to hear more of her opinions on the fairytale. He actually wanted to write this opera with her; he felt as though this is what they were destined to do.

"What if he was human?" Erik interrupted her thoughts.

"What?" Amelia asked, astonished.

"What if… what if he was a fallen angel – a real, tangible person?"

"Well, that would change things…"

Erik laughed lightly. Amelia looked up at him, wondering why he would laugh at her. But she found that she really liked his laugh. She hadn't heard it that often.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Of course it would change things…Mia, write this opera with me." There he went again, calling her Mia. The feeling in her stomach resurfaced and made its way to her heart. She nodded wordlessly.

Erik had left the practice room and Amelia grudgingly. They had tinkered with ideas for the opera for quite a while, along with a few songs. He considered possibly showing her the song he wrote for her. Although, he wouldnot tell her that he did write it for her. Nothing was official yet, but he could imagine this whole performance showing on stage.

And now he walked down a dead corridor, cursing Monsieur Reyer, cursing Giselle. Erik could feel that he and Amelia were getting closer. He noticed the way she reacted when he had called her his pet name for her. The look she gave him was intense, and then the emotions on her face were hard to distinguish. She had gazed at him as if she was confused and then her face shifted to a content expression. She seemed happy that he had called her that.

Erik's musings were interrupted. He stood in front of Giselle's practice room's door. He ground his teeth slightly and reached for the knob. I just have to get through this one lesson. How bad could it be? When he entered the room, Erik first noticed Monsieur Reyer. His expression was as harassed as it had been this morning. Charles stood from his chair and walked toward Erik reaching for a handshake. Giselle stepped right in front of her teacher and placed her hand in Erik's outstretched one. She smiled a strange, seductive smile at him.

"It is a pleasure to have you at my lesson, Monsieur Destler," she purred, Greek accent seeping through her French language.

Erik said nothing but nodded slightly at her. "Shall we get started, then?" he directed his question at Monsieur Reyer.

"Of course," Giselle said.

She sauntered over to her flute and the music stand. After taking a delicate breath, she started a scale. Erik took the chair that Charles had previously been sitting on and observed the lesson. The scale that Giselle played sounded piercing and too high to him. He noticed multiple times while she was playing or as Monsieur Reyer spoke to her that her intense eyes crawled over to him. The way she looked at him made him feel uncomfortable. Each time she glanced his way, he saw that her eyes lingered on his mask longer than the rest of him.

Erik tried to pay attention to the lesson, to the way Monsieur Reyer taught. That was the whole point of this, wasn't it? Charles had just told her the proper way to do a technique. Giselle seemed irritated with her teacher; as if she thought that she didn't need to have lessons. Erik found her annoying. He missed Amelia. He missed the warmth of the sound of her violin. He missed the piano. He hated this cold, sharp flute.

Once Giselle finished her solo, Erik felt all of his muscles relax. Her raw green eyes stared at him, as if waiting applause. He bit his tongue and looked at Charles.

"That will be all for the evening. Thank you Giselle," Monsieur Reyer said quietly. Giselle almost glared at him and then put her flute away.

Erik immediately stood and left the practice room. He knew both Giselle and Charles had to be staring at him as he walked out, but he didn't care. What was this feeling he had in the pit of his stomach? It felt like hatred, pure hatred, but there was something else. Why did he hate her so much, and so soon? Did he judge her? Did Erik automatically choose to hate her because he had heard bad things about her?

Erik turned a corner, heading for his home. He heard someone calling his name. The first person that came to mind spurred him to walk faster. He heard her footsteps, trying to keep up with his. Why was she chasing him?

"Erik, wait!" The voice was closer; it wasn't Giselle.

"Amelia?" He spun around on the spot. This, however, wasn't the best decision. Amelia was practically running at full speed to keep up with him, but now he had stopped abruptly. The first thing Erik saw was her alarmed face, and then she crashed into him.

Amelia's entire body ran into Erik's and then she bounced off. He could tell she was going to fall flat on her back. The first problem he saw was Amelia hurting her head again. The second was the fact that he would have caused it…again. And the third: this would be quite embarrassing for the both of them. She reached up to him as she fell backwards, and Erik grabbed her hand, catching her once she was about a foot away from the ground.

Erik pulled her up. "Are you alright?"

A deep blush surged across Amelia's cheeks. "Sorry," she muttered.

"Mia, are you alright?"

She looked up at him, eyes sparkling. "Yes."

He felt her heartbeat accelerate. Wait, how did he feel that? Erik looked down. When he had pulled her up, he kept her hand in his and they were sitting lightly against her chest. Amelia looked down, following his eyes. He pulled his hand away from her chest, feeling like he was violating her.

"Is – is your head okay?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

Amelia's hand reached behind her head, almost involuntarily. "Yes, I'm fine." She was still distracted. The feeling of holding Erik's hand was exhilarating. His hand was warm and she had felt calluses on a few of his fingers.

"So…" Erik began, trying to fill in the silence. "Was there something you wanted to tell me?"

Amelia stared at him blankly. "What?"

"Well, there must have been a reason why you were running after me," he said, smiling.

"Oh! Yes. I – I wanted to show you some of my ideas for…" Amelia trailed off. Erik was staring very intently at something behind her. He looked angry. Just as she started to look behind her, he took her hand and pulled her around the corner. "Come on," he murmured.

Amelia didn't object. He was still holding her hand. But she really was curious about what they were doing. "What's going on?" she asked quietly. She felt like they were being secretive.

"It's Giselle," he whispered. "I just finished her lesson."

"Does she want to talk to you?" Amelia asked, also whispering.

"Yes."

"…Do you not want to talk to her?"

Erik looked at her and smiled slightly. "No, I don't."

"Erik?" They heard Giselle's high-pitched voice fill the empty corridor.

He broke into a run and Amelia couldn't help laughing a little. Erik shushed her good-naturedly and opened the nearest door. The couple threw themselves inside and closed the door. It was pitch black inside. They stood next to the door and listened. Both were rather out of breath and tried to keep quiet. They heard the clicking of Giselle's heels as she searched aimlessly.

Once the clicking faded away, Amelia let out the breath she was holding. Now she realized that they were in a dark room. She squinted, trying to get her eyes to adjust.

"Are we in a closet?" Amelia whispered.

Erik started laughing very hard. She had never heard him laugh like that before. After a few moments, she thought he would stop. But he didn't. He kept on laughing hysterically. "What is so funny?" Amelia asked. Now she started laughing.

Erik grabbed her waist for support and leaned over slightly. His sides were starting to hurt; he'd never laughed like this, ever. Amelia was rather surprised at his action, but she continued laughing. She was crying now. She reached up to dry her eyes. But on the way up, her hand hit something. What it was, Amelia had no idea; it was too dark. Until she heard it hit the floor. Erik had stopped laughing and unwound his hands from her waist.

Oh no. She had touched the untouchable. It had seemed like there was an unspoken bond between them. Amelia respected Erik's privacy and had never asked about nor touched his mask. And here she had completely knocked it off. Oxygen filled her lungs quickly in a loud gasp. She felt him lean over and pick it up.

"Erik… I – I…" Amelia was suddenly afraid that he would be furious. "I'm so sorry."

There was a short silence. The tears returned, but they weren't from laughter. She had violated him. She destroyed their friendship and possibilities of…

"Mia, are you crying?"

Erik's eyes were better at seeing in the dark than anyone's. He could see her outline and some of the details on her face – including a tear or two running down her cheek. He reached out and wiped them away.

"I – I thought…"

"I'm not mad, Mia. It's alright."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You are forgiven," Erik replied.

They stood there in the dark closet for a few more moments. Erik took her hand as he waited for her to recover. Amelia wasn't actually 'recovering,' though. She just stood there, pretending to sniffle, just so he would hold her hand for a bit longer…

It was late. Really late. Erik finally went to bed. But even as he tried to sleep he still envisioned all of the events that had happened that day. He remembered it was only earlier that morning that he was dreading the rest of the day. Giselle's whole lesson wasn't really that bad. The flute just wasn't for him. And neither was Giselle. He sighed and sat up to place his mask on the side table. Surprisingly, his stomach muscles retorted a little. His intense laughing earlier must have given his muscles a foreign workout.

Erik laid back down. His mind began racing all over again. Only, this time, it was about Amelia. They had finished their song and it sounded amazing. He never would have finished it without her. And her ideas… they were incredible! An opera! Who would have known that's what was going on in her head. Her head… God, if she would have gotten hurt again because of him… Erik sighed again, frustrated.

He looked over to the side table. The only candle lit at the moment was sitting there. His mask was illuminated by it. It wasn't the only item on the table. Next to the candle was a small velvet box. The small velvet box that had caused it all. It made her chase him, which led to… He turned away from the dim light – away from the dreaded box's glare.

But maybe – No. Every time he started feeling guilty about what had happened, a voice in his head would try to convince him of fate. Perhaps it was meant to be. You two were destined to fall in love another way. Oh no, it couldn't just happen the regular way. Although, the circumstances they were under weren't necessarily normal, either. Erik touched his marred cheek. What if she is disgusted by me this time? His pessimistic thoughts always ruined him.

The voice in his head was rather helpful, though. Who are you thinking about? Amelia wouldn't be disgusted. She is too good of a person; she has a beautiful heart. Perhaps you are thinking of Giselle… She, on the other hand, would most likely be disgusted by you. She's very materialistic and shallow, you know.

Why did his thoughts keep coming back to Giselle? She was nobody to him. She was a superficial person who shouldn't pay him any mind. So he shouldn't bother to think about her either. His mind was exhausted, as was he. Erik blew out the candle, hoping his aimless thoughts would follow. He thought one last thing before he drifted to sleep: Amelia was his angel and Giselle was his demon.