Warning- Pretty Graphic. Which might POSSIBLY be good news. Maybe. ;)

Christine arrived at the opera house, her face streaked with tears. She had been crying ever since he had left her, and she couldn't even bare to think of what she had said to him. Walking in all the secret shortcuts to avoid everybody, Christine soon arrived at her room. And, Raoul was waiting there for her, a hopeful look on his face.

"Hello Raoul", she sighed. He was the last person she wanted to see right now. The first was Erik.

"Little Lotte, why are you so... down?" he asked her, taking ahold of her chin and bringing it up to meet his eyes. His bright blue eyes usually made Christine feel giddy inside, as it would to any other girl, but today it just made her want to look away even more. She craved to see green eyes. Deep, mysterious, green eyes that would, if she were to see them now, would look at her with such hatred, such dislike, and not the usual kindness they bared.

"Oh, I'm just tired", she said. She opened the door, hoping that Raoul would take the hint, but he just stood there, looking at her expectantly.

"Is there anything I can do to help, Angel?" he said. He may not have even realized that he had called her that, but this angered Christine.

"Don't call me that, Raoul. Please don't. I can't have you call me that..." she said. Of course he would also question this, which is what he did, but she didn't care. She sighed again. "You may come in", she told him dejectedly.

"No, Christine, I'm alright. But why don't you want me to call you that? Why not me? I am going to be your husband..." he said, as if she had forgotten.

But she had. Christine closed her eyes. How could she marry this man when Erik still lingered in her mind? She didn't think she could go through with it, not after what had just happened.

"If that's what you think of the prospect..." Raoul said, noticing her annoyance.

"No, Raoul. Really", she lied.

"No, Christine. Maybe I was a little too-rushed when I proposed to you. Christine, I came to give you your ring. Your engagement ring; I had forgotten to give it to you yesterday. I was going to give it to you Christine, but that way you reacted just then... forget about it. Forget I asked you. If you still want to court me, please tell me, as soon as you can", he told her sadly, implying that she should tell him now.

Christine stood there, silent as a reply. He sighed. "Alright, Christine. Goodbye", he said and walked away.

A good amount of Christine wanted to yell at him and say that it was alright, and that she would marry him after all. But the rest kept Erik in mind, sweet Erik who seemed to care so much about her.

She closed the door and leaned against it, exhausted, tired, sad, and angry. At whom she wasn't sure. It was just a mixed media of feelings. She peeled off her cape and lay down on her bed, thoughts whirling rapidly throughout her mind.

She had to visit him. She just had to, and she knew nothing could stop her from seeing him. Christine walked through the mirror, using the same button Erik had used when he first came to her in the mirror as her Angel.

When she came to the mirror, Christine couldn't find the boat anywhere. Yet, nothing could stop her, and she swam across. When she and her father had lived by the sea, he had taught her how to swim, and now Christine was quite thankful for those lessons.

She came out dripping wet, but didn't seem to care, and besides, she certainly wouldn't take her clothes off.

Erik would usually be at his piano at this time, but instead he was standing up. He held something on his arm, and Christine could see dark red seeping through the seemingly thin cloth.

Christine panicked and ran to him. He looked up, surprised, and then angry. "Christine! What are you doing here?!" he asked her, trying to hide the wound.

She walked up to him and gently pushed his arm into her view. "Erik, what did you do?" she asked him, taking ahold of the cloth and pressing down on an area of the cloth not yet penetrated by the warm fluid.

"You must answer my question first. And why would you come here, after rejecting me as you did earlier?" he sighed. "I don't understand you, Christine. And if that boy caught you here, he would surely kill me, and would be quite angry at yourself..."

Christine put her finger to his lips, silencing him. He closed his eyes, enthralled by her light touch. Too soon did she draw her fingers away. "He wouldn't care anymore, really. It's over between the two of us. At least, I hope. So please, no that I've answered your question, please answer mine and lets get this wound on it's way to healing", Christine said as if nothing had happened.

He blinked, hardly believing her words. Was this really Christine speaking to him in her lulling voice? Surely not the same Christine that had been so terrified and hateful of him earlier. "Alright. But your going to think of me as a fool", he warned her as she led him to a nearby chair, holding the cloth on his wound.

"I had a knife, and I wanted to end my life. I was too scared like the coward I am, and decided not to go through with it. I slipped, and the knife skimmed my arm", he said, looking down as he spoke. He looked up, expecting to see Christine laughing or smiling, embarrassed that she even knew this fool.

But she was trembling, not out of fear, but because she had glistening crystal tears falling down her pale cheeks. She looked at him with wonder. "Erik..." was all she could say, and leaned into his good side.

He put his arm around her waist, confused, but drew back in surprise. "Christine, you're soaking wet! What did you do?" he asked her, pulling his cape off of a nearby chair and quickly wrapped it around her trembling frame.

"I had to swim here to see you, Erik. I had to see you. I called after you at the cemetery, but you didn't hear me. But I had to see you", she told him again.

He looked at her, making sure that she was telling the truth. "Do you not trust me?" Christine asked him as if she could read his mind.

He blushed. "It stopped bleeding", he said, looking down at his wound.

She smiled at him "Good, because you're going to go with me to the opera house's Masquerade Ball", she told him.

He looked at her in astonishment. "Christine, you couldn't possibly mean that", he said to her.

"Of course I do", she grabbed his good arm. "Erik, I don't care what people will say about us. I just don't want it to be a secret. I love you, and I intend to tell everyone who cares", she told him. She looked into his eyes with such yearning and love, he wanted to kiss her right there.

And he did. He leaned in and kissed her, as if a reply for her invitation to go with him to the Masquerade. She kissed him back, gently and lightly at first, but then he pressed harder and opened his mouth the slightest bit, and she opened hers as well. He gently bit her lip, making an excited bolt jolt through her spine. This was her Erik. She belonged to him, and he belonged to her. She wanted to hide nothing from him.

"Erik, I love you", she told him again as they each gulped air.

"Christine... I want all of you", he hesitantly told her. If he had to watch her from a distance, one more he time, he would explode. He hoped he hadn't offended her, yet he wanted her so badly.

She looked at him, no doubt at all flashing in her eyes. She was so confident and happy with him. "Alright, Erik. I will", she told him. She took his outstretched hand and he led her to his swan bed.

It seemed so long ago that she had woken on this very same bed, fear bolting throughout her body. Fear of Erik. But now here she was, eager and willing to become one with that same man.