A/N: Sorry it took so long. End of my junior year of highschool= insanity. O_o. It was really crazy. Thanks for the patience and I want to send a thanks out to all of those who reviewed last time. You know who you are, and thanks to readers please take the extra minute to review.

Thanks to my beta!! You are amazing Anne!! You have helped me to improve so much!

Enjoy!

Chapter 11

"Erik!" The two arms around her filled her with relief as she glanced into the hooded eyes of her beloved. An exhausted groan was all she received as a response.

"Erik, tell me this is not a dream, that we are really lying on the floor with your warm, living arms around me and your breath upon my face! Tell me that you are really alive!" Tears sprung to Mollia's eyes once again. Erik's warm finger swiped them off of her rosy cheek, and he chuckled.

"This is no dream Mollia. We are both alive in the land of the living, lying on a cold stone floor with naught but a few blankets and each other for warmth." She sobbed a little and nodded, holding his hand against her cheek.

What Erik was not expecting was this: Mollia flung her closed fist against his chest, earning a painful 'humph'! Erik sat up in surprise, closing his arms around a hysterically sobbing Mollia in order to prevent any further bodily harm to himself.

"Why would you do that to me?! I thought you were dead! NEVER DO THAT AGAIN MONSIEUR PHANTOM! If you ever try something like that again, then I will kill you myself!" She slapped him in the face once and collapsed against his chest, crying into his silk shirt.

His hand made small circles on her back, and he rested his head atop hers. "When you kissed me, my life was complete. You have given me true love and all I wanted was to feel that love for a moment. I do not want to keep you trapped down here from the daylight, from the world. You need the world above and the world needs you in order to live and thrive. I do not want to be the person who holds you back from achieving your dreams." Now Erik had tears running down his face, and he sighed when he received only one statement from Mollia.

"I thought you were dead; I really thought you were dead." She repeated it over and over again, her voice weak from emotional exhaustion.

All Erik could think to do was to hold her and comfort her. He had never been good at apologizing, for he was a ghost who never had the need to apologize.

"Mollia? Mon amour? Please look at me." He waited until her puffy eyes met his. The sympathy rolled out of his eyes and covered Mollia like a fog. "I never intended for such a reaction from you. I will never leave you. Listen to me." Mollia allowed his warm hand to snake under her chin and lift her face. "I will never leave you."

The sincerity in his voice warmed Mollia to the core, and she sniffed the last of her sobs away and wiped the last of her tears. Her white teeth lit up her face as she giggled a little and wrapped her arms around him.

"I am just so relieved that you are alive. I don't know what I would have done without you here to guide me through this cruel world." She leaned into Erik's face and he leaned into hers lovingly.

~oOo~

"She does not have to be here for another hour, sir. Please cease your pacing. He will keep his word," stated Madame Giry. Though her voice was strong and convincing, her mind was filled with worry and uncertainty.

The managers paced past one another and glared at their watches. The hands could not move any faster but the managers seemed to believe differently.

"He'd better keep his word or I will burn this whole damn opera house down and find where he resides! If he desires the company of a woman, then he is definitely not a ghost! Ha! Thought he could fool us!"

The managers laughed with one another, but their thick laughs turned to frightened whimpers as a menacing chuckle boomed throughout the sea of velvet chairs.

"Burning down the opera house would not be the smartest choice to make!" The managers expected the Phantom to walk out from a row of seats, and they jumped when there was a light tapping upon their shoulders.

"Good evening messieurs. I am sorry for the fright. The phantom still likes to get a rise out of you two. Is everyone ready for rehearsal?"

The baffled managers nodded and looked to Madame Giry, who turned to Mollia and said genuinely: "I am glad to see you Mollia." And without another word she hurried from the stage to gather the ballet rats, cane tapping the whole way, creating a loud exit.

Rehearsal sped by and Madame Giry seemed to be on a roll, the constant clap of her cane on the floor signaling yet another misstep, loss of balance, bad posture, or out-of-step girl. Mollia felt a pang of sympathy for the ballet rats who worked so hard and were worked even harder.

Then it came time to sing her aria, and all else was swept from her mind but the soul of music and the face of Erik. The managers, who had been previously engaged in worrying and yelling about all the things going wrong and behind deadline, sat in awe as Mollia sang her song almost flawlessly. A sense of relief seemed to spread throughout the tired and exhausted bodies throughout the opera house. Her last note echoed through and ended, leaving a calm silence. Then Madame Giry's stern voice broke through.

"Alright girls, rehearsal is finished for the day. You must all rest for tomorrow. Chantal, I expect to see you improve upon that turn tomorrow. Maria, learn to count time with the other girls…." Madame Giry's voice continued rattling off a number of things for every girl to work on.

Mollia became weary from standing and sat on the stage's edge, her skirt billowing out around her and her thin yet strong legs swinging to and fro like that of a small child's.

"You did a magnificent job, my child. I am very proud of you for all that you have done. I hope that Erik is treating you well and will allow you to rest this evening." Mollia felt Madame Giry's calloused hand fall gently on her head for a few moments and when it was gone, Mollia could still feel the phantom touch upon her scalp.

"Mon ange, come to me…" Mollia heard the voice and glanced around, looking for Erik. But he was not there.

"Monsieur le Fantome?" Mollia stood center stage and spun around until she was dizzied. She turned to ask the dancers if they had heard, but they had already left. She made another turn, hoping for the managers and stage hands to be discussing the sloppy scenery, but they had left, too. Suddenly, the stage seemed very eerie and Mollia was frightened.

"Erik, if it is you, and if you are playing a joke on me, then it is not funny, and I demand that you come out!" Mollia's skin prickled as an ice-cold breath blew into her ear. Spinning to see nothing, Mollia folded her arms in front of her, looking for some type of security.

"Mon ange, I know not of an Erik." The voice was very similar to that of her love's, but it had more grit and whisper to it. She glanced around again, seeing nothing. Then she felt arms around her waist and she screamed. A leather-clad hand clamped over her mouth and Erik's scent filled her nostrils.

"Screaming might attract unwanted attention, mon ange. Shall we get going?" Mollia turned and wrapped her arms around Erik, surprising him.

"I am so glad you are here, Erik." She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in his warm shoulder.

"I am glad as well, my love..." She could tell that he was confused, but something told her to speak not of what she heard. She opened her eyes and the image before her make her squeal and jump back.

There was a man, clothing similar to Erik's, who also wore a mask. But his mask was the color of blood and death, a deep red like that of crimson flowing from a victim's veins. The cold black eyes staring into hers remind Mollia of the fiery pits of hell and how cold the devil truly was. The man's smirk was devilish and conniving and she feared it so. She felt Erik pull back and was distracted. When she glanced back the figure was gone.

"What has frightened you so, Mollia?" Mollia looked to Erik, his concern-filled eyes soothed her fright, and she shook her head.

"I just thought I saw a ghost." From the past but where have I heard that voice, she thought. Erik chuckled and pulled back, bowing deeply.

"I can assure you that I am the only ghost who haunts this opera, Mademoiselle. Now, fair maiden, will you come with me to my humble abode?" Mollia giggled and took Erik's offered hand.

"I will, sir Phantom, and may all other ghosts, for there might be some, be aware that you are the fiercest and sliest of them all." Mollia allowed Erik to swoop her into his arms as they descended through the trap door.

One thing haunted her mind: in one hand, the figure had held a crimson rose, wrapped in a silver ribbon, blood dripping from the thorns--in the other, a silver wedding band.