*My apologies to my readers for the lack of updates over the past few weeks. Life turned hectic and we had a death of a beloved pet in the family. I hope I will not leave you hanging again for so long.*

Christine slept deeply through the afternoon. She opened her eyes hours later, it was dark outside and she was unsure of the time. She had never had a dream so incredibly intense and vivid. Her first dream had been fretful, reliving the flood and her fear of the rushing waters and debris. The dream that followed, however, was much more enticing. No, that was not the right word. It was frightening on another level and wholly wonderful all at once.

In her dreams, Erik still carried her up to bed, but instead of tucking her in and closing the door behind him, he stayed and she most certainly had not fallen back asleep as a result. She sat on the edge of her bed. Erik was suddenly once again shirtless and kneeling in front of her as he stroked her hair from her face, his warm hand gliding gently down the side of her neck. His fingers traced her bared collarbone where the robe fell back from her skin, sending goose-bumps up and down her arms and back causing her to moan a sigh of nervous pleasure. He smiled at the response and said, "Such beautiful music you make when I touch you." He sat beside her on the edge of the mattress, leaning in closer to her. His hand continued to slowly push the edge of the robe farther back to reveal her pale shoulder which he brushed with his lips. She felt a draft of air on half of her chest as his hand continued to move behind her shoulder and down her back, half removing the dressing gown. His lips found the place where her neck met her revealed shoulder and she could hear her heart pounding in her ears as his other hand dared to cup her exposed breast. He kissed his way up her neck softly, his mask felt cool against her skin, murmuring her name as his palm left her breast and moved under the other side of the robe to caress the other. The robe fell from her other arm and crumpled around her waist on the bed leaving her entire upper body exposed to his touch and scrutiny. As his mouth found hers, a sensation, like the rest she could only imagine having never felt it before, he pushed her back to lie on the bed. His lips left hers and he stared into her eyes, "You are so beautiful, my Christine. My wife…" his voice trailed off and his words rang in her ears. She looked down at her hand in wonder and saw a shining gold band on her finger.

Then she woke up. Her heart pounded and her mouth felt dry from breathing so hard. She curled into her pillow, longing to return to the dream from which she had awoken. Then she started and sat up in bed. Was this what she wanted? Could such a reality be possible? It had been so real she almost felt like crying that it had all been a dream.

She slid her feet out of bed stretched her back as she sat up. A warm light flickered across the walls from a lantern perched on the dressing table. She stood and crossed the room and opened her door a crack to listen. She heard voices and movement downstairs so she figured it must not be terribly late in the evening. Christine pulled the bell cord by the door and waited for the maid to come help her dress.

Looking at herself in the mirror she brushed back the curls from her pale face and splashed some water from the basin onto her cheeks to refresh herself. This day has proven to be an exhausting one and her mind was now all too preoccupied with her dream.

When Erik had carried her upstairs and placed her in her bed earlier, his arms felt so strong and warm and reassuring. She knew she had asked him to stay and knew that that was what caused her dream. What had he thought of her request? Did he think she was talking in her sleep or did he think she was inviting him to her bed? What would he take from that assumption, she wondered? She felt heat spread across her face and neck as she once again thought of her dream and knew exactly what he would take if he assumed the invitation.

She shivered and felt butterflies in her stomach at the thought. She knew deep down that he was a respectable gentleman and despite her reassurances to Marie about his self control, she also knew within that he was indeed, a man, and probably a more desperate man there had never been before. When she first met Erik, he would quake at the slightest physical brush of a touch from her. Over time she came to learn that it was only through his sheer steel will of restraint that kept his passion from taking over his actions. Slowly over time through their lessons and the infrequent times he would take her out for a nighttime stroll through the deserted areas of the opera or the park outside, his courage for stealing brief touches of her skin with his hand became more frequent and more bold until they manifested into the contact they had shared in the last few days. Not wanting to falsely encourage him when she was not yet sure of what their relationship meant exactly, she had timidly avoided his attempts. But recently, she found herself wanting these moments of tender contact; looking forward to the next incident of courage on his behalf. When he used to steal a touch with his fingertip on the back of her hand, it would make her hold her breath and her heart to flutter. Now it was nearly impossible to resist returning the contact.

Christine heard a tap at the door, shortly after, the maid entered and bobbed a curtsey then handed her a small note. It was in Erik's hand. She thanked her and asked for help in dressing. As the tiny woman was cinching the laces on her corset, Christine opened the note and read it silently.

My Dearest Christine,

When you awaken, please join me out by the cliff-side. Dress warmly.

Yours Always,

Erik

Christine's heart fluttered in her breast, like a moth trapped within the ever tightening corset. After what her unconscious mind just imagined in her dreams, she was suddenly more nervous than ever about being alone with him. 'It was just a dream, he's still just Erik' she told herself as the maid helped her into her dress. 'Ha ha,' she laughed to herself, 'when is Erik just Erik?' The maid finished and left Christine staring at her reflection in the mirror. She breathed deeply through her nostrils and exhaled slowly, closing her eyes. "Time to go," she said aloud to her mirror image. A twinge of fear and anticipation filled her stomach as she left the Inn to walk towards the cliffs. Ever since she saw that little black box in the abandoned church as Erik slumbered, she felt as though she were perched at the edge of a precipice, one foot raised and waiting to drop. Now she felt within a welling certainty what her answer would be when the time came to give one.