Sorry for the long delay. I have had writers block for quite a while, and just found some inspiration. This chapter is short but hopefully the next will be up soon. I have all Christmas Break, so there should be more soon!

thank you to those who ahve supported me and read my story, and reviewed. I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!!

Disclaimer: I do not own any other the things that are in "The Phantom of the Opera" Andrew Lloyd Webber and Gaston Leroux do. I do own Mollia and other original characters. THIS GOES FOR ALL THE CHAPTERS! IT WILL NOT BE REPEATED IN EVERY ONE OF THEM!

Chapter Two

For the next three hours, Erik watched Mollia carefully, waiting for her to wake up and hate him for everything. Waiting for that one moment where she never wants to see him again, just like her mother. Her sweet mother, who turned away from her angel, to love a prissy boy. Anger filled Erik's insides at the thought of Raoul, but when he looked at the girl laying in his bed, fainted, his heart softened. She looked just like her mother, but she acted nothing like either of her parents. She was different than the both of them, she wasn't afraid to be different, she understood him. It was weird.

Mollia awoke slowly, memories quickly filling her mind. Her once relaxed body went rigid, and she slowly moved her hand across her body relieved to find that she was clothed, but relief left as she realized she was in a different bed. Eyes snapping open she met those of Erik's, fear continuing to rule her body.

"He didn't….. did he?" her voice wavered at the thought of what that man could have done to her and when Erik shook his head side to side Mollia was overcome with tears. She jumped up and embraced Erik. Erik froze and than relaxed wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her back.

"Oh.. Angel,, you saved m me. I was so scared that he was going to…." She couldn't finish, her eyes welled with more tears as a ball of fright clogged her beautiful voice. She sobbed and buried her face into his shoulder, her body shaking uncontrollably.

"Shh. Mollia, do not fear. He did not do anything to you in that sense. I was there before he could. He won't touch anyone for a long, long time." Mollia nodded into his shirt and still cried. When she pulled her head back up, she leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss underneath the edge of his mask next to his mouth.

"Thank you." Erik smiled down at his new little angel. She was a treasure, and she wanted to be there with him. Why? This was the question that constantly plagued Erik's mind. A beautiful young lady like herself had chosen his, a twisted freak, to be her savior.

"I would do anything for you mon petite ange. You need your rest, I shall leave you to sleep, and return in an hour with food." Erik stood to leave, but Mollia tightened her hold on his hand.

"Don't leave me please. I am frightened." Tears welled in her beautiful eyes. Erik gave in instantly and sat down next to her urging her to lay down and as he held her in his arms.

"I need music, Angel. People don't understand that. I live for music, and music lives for me. I feel, I feel as if I have become music's slave, or rather, music's companion. When I get lonely my music is there, but always, I feel as if something is missing. I realize now, that that one thing was the absence of the angel of music. Angel, my angel of music, will you ever leave me?" Her voice held the startling truth, and silent tears were born in Erik's eyes.

"I will only leave if you want me to, mon petite ange." He smiled against her head, and she snuggled into him.

"Good, because I never want you to leave, I need you. Will you sing for me?" Her question hung in the air for a mere second, and then Erik sang. The angel of music's voice floated through the cellar floors and into the opera house. His angelic voice soothed the children and all acquaintances. But it chilled the souls of those from the past, and reminded them, that he had returned. But below, there were no thoughts of the future or realization that there was anyone else on the planet. There was just the Angel of Music singing to his little protégé. Unknown to the world, and the heavens above, the Angel of music, form that point on, was a slave to Mollia. He would not be able to refuse anything, and in the eyes of a stranger, they would consider it a case of, love at first sight.