It was a very warm summer night, and although the sun was disappearing behind the skyline of the city, it was still turning out to be a bright evening. Christine was looking out of the window, watching the sidewalks and enjoying the sights. It was cool in the car, and it moved at an easy, unhurried speed.

Erik had made good on his agreement to take her out, and although it wasn't exactly what she had had in mind (her idea being a walk in the park or something similar), she wouldn't complain about being out of the small house for a while. They had emerged from the Opera House through a back door in an alleyway, and a shiny black car was waiting for them. It was one of the small limo-type cars with drivers and other fancy rich stuff. Erik had opened the door for her, and she had climbed into see that, true enough, a dark screen separated them from the driver.

They had ridden in silence for a long while, but she could feel Erik's eyes on her. It was making her prickle slightly, though she tried her best to ignore it.

"I've actually never been to this part of the city before," she commented at last, craning her head up to look at the tall skyscrapers. "It's so big! I think Raoul works somewhere down here…" She trailed off and then regretted what she had said, because she could practically see Erik tense at the mention of her ex-boyfriend.

Not wanting to hear one of his 'Raoul-would-have-made-you-miserable' speeches, she quickly said, "These buildings are so tall! Wow. I'd probably be scared to work in them, heh."

"No. Your destiny is the stage," Erik said, his voice almost slithering out of the dark corner he sat in. "These meaningless, commonplace, irrelevant jobs are not for you."

They stopped, presumably waiting for a light, and then Christine at last voiced a worry she had had, "But…but what if it isn't anymore, Erik? I mean, what happened that night—"

"Was no fault of yours!" Erik interrupted quickly, his voice rising in volume. "You were envied for your talent. There was no long-lasting damage done. We shall simply postpone your world debut a little longer. And by then you will be ready to send the world to its knees."

Whenever he spoke this way, it did two things to her: it emboldened her and gave her confidence, but somehow it also made her doubt. Was she really as good as Erik said she was? He was obviously a genius, so that meant that he probably knew what he was talking about…But still. It was a little nerve-wracking when he talked about bringing 'the world to its knees.'

The car took off again, and Christine continued to look. Not wanting to continue talking about her voice and her 'destiny,' she quickly commented, "Aww! Look at that little bakery—the one with the cakes in the window. It's so cute!"

Erik then pushed a button that was underneath the window and said, "Pull over immediately." The car obeyed, swerving to the curb and stopping smoothly. Christine turned to look at him in question.

"Do you wish for something in there?" Erik pressed. "Whatever you wish shall be yours, Christine."

"Oh, Erik, I…" She felt a little embarrassed and a little…flattered. He had pulled over because she said a bakery was 'cute.' Still, she didn't want to seem childish or greedy, and so she said, "No—no, I'm…"

He pulled something out of his suit coat and held it out to her. It was a fold of bills. "I will wait for you here for five minutes," he said. "Buy whatever you desire."

Carefully, she took the money from him and then smiled. "Thanks," she said. The door opened at her touch (she was a little surprised at that). "I'll be right back."

She stepped out into the warm night air, breathing in deeply. She was glad that she had an opportunity to actually be outside and among people—not riding in a dark car, staring at them.

Clutching the money in her hand carefully, she made her way into the bakery, instantly overwhelmed by the rich, overpowering smell of cakes, candies, and other sweets.

The red-headed counter girl smiled at her as she entered, and Christine smiled back. Then she looked around for a couple minutes, trying to decide if she wanted some pre-packaged homemade candy or something fresh. She glanced back out, the wide window of the bakery making it easy to see outside. The dark black car was still there, waiting for her. Christine swallowed a little. What if she didn't go back? What if she just walked out the door and headed for the nearest bus station? Would Erik get out and chase her? But…she wasn't his prisoner! She was perfectly able to do whatever she pleased.

Wasn't she?

As she was thinking these unsettling thoughts, she got in line behind an older couple who were arguing about whether to buy a cake from the bakery or get a cheap one from a grocery store. Christine scratched her wrist, frowning a little in confusion. Maybe she was like…a willing prisoner or something. After all, she hadn't ever specifically told Erik that she wanted to leave. She had asked repeatedly if she could go outside, but he had always refused, and now she understood why. The walk to the surface took a while, and it was dark and actually pretty scary. During the trek up, Christine had really considered asking him to take her back to the house. However, the desire for fresh air and human interaction had silenced her.

And Erik was going to send her home as soon as the damage from the fire was repaired. It wasn't like she was staying forever. He just wanted her nearby…for some reason.

Christine was sure that she did know the reason, but she didn't even want to admit it to herself in thought.

As she was trying to get herself to think of other things, she felt something tap her shoulder, and she looked around, half-expecting Erik to be there.

To her shock, it was Raoul. He smiled at her, and she gaped. What was he doing here?

"What are you doing here?" she asked stupidly.

His smile widened. "Working late," he said, shrugging. "I need some coffee and some sugar. What are you doing here?"

"Getting cupcakes," she replied. There was an awkward moment of silence. The girl at the counter, who had been rolling her eyes at the older couple's argument, suddenly spotted Raoul, and her entire demeanor changed.

"Hi, Raoul!" she called breathlessly, waving, a blush on her cheeks that clashed awfully with her red hair.

He smiled and waved back. "Hey, Kate."

The girl giggled, and Christine felt her insides bristle with jealousy. Then she quickly suppressed it and reminded herself that Raoul was not her boyfriend anymore, and he had perfect liberty to talk to whoever he wanted.

"So…how's your singing going?" Raoul then asked.

"Fine," she said, somewhat snappishly, and then she felt bad. She didn't want to be mean to him. He didn't deserve it. He hadn't done anything wrong, really.

"That's good," he said. "Looks like you're doing well for yourself." He gestured out to the shining black car.

"That's not mine," she said. "It's my…friend's."

"Really?" he said. "Who is she? Does she work at the Opera House with you?"

"It's a him. And yeah, sorta," she said. She shifted and tugged at some curls, feeling bad for making it a point to tell Raoul that her 'friend' was a man. Maybe it would've been better if she had simply let him assume whatever he wanted.

Raoul paused for a long while and then said, changing the subject, "I heard about the fire. I'm really glad you're okay. I actually tried calling you a couple times to make sure, but…yeah. Anyway. It's good to see you again."

Christine realized that she had left her cell phone and purse in the dressing room, and she had been unable to grab them before Erik had taken her down to his house. She hadn't even given it a thought until now.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she then said. The old couple then decided to not get a cake at all, and they shuffled out. Christine stepped up to the counter and asked for a cupcake. "Actually, give me two," she added quickly, and she handed over some of the money Erik had given her. As she was turning to leave, clutching the paper bag in her hands, Raoul grabbed her arm.

"Hey, are you busy now? Do you want to catch up? I'd love to hear about your singing."

"I have to go, actually," she said, quickly pulling her arm out of his grasp—maybe too quickly, because he looked a little hurt. Erik had told her he would wait for five minutes, and she was pretty sure her five minutes were over. And…it wasn't as if she could just walk off with Raoul while Erik was sitting there in a car. She didn't think that Erik would get out and actually hurt someone, but…it was probably best if she didn't push her luck with him.

"Oh," Raoul said disappointedly. "Okay. Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Christine said, glancing outside one more time. The black car was still there. "Bye."

"See you around, I guess," he said, and Christine hurried out of the shop, feeling Raoul's eyes following her. She climbed into the backseat and shut the door. Now that Raoul's eyes weren't following her, she could feel Erik's eyes on her. Christine glanced out of the window and realized, with a little jerk in her stomach, that Raoul was in perfect view through the window, and he was looking at the black car, frowning a little.

"What an extraordinary coincidence," Erik suddenly remarked, somewhat…too calm.

"Yeah, I know," she said, laughing nervously. "Small world, I guess."

"Yes. I suppose," he said softly. Then he pushed the button again and snapped, "Drive." The car lurched forward, and Christine toppled backward into the seat. After straightening herself out with an embarrassed blush, she passed over the extra money to Erik and opened the bag.

"I don't know which one you like best, so you can pick," Christine said, trying to break through the awkward intensity that was milling around the backseat. She pulled out the two cupcakes, presenting them to him. "There's chocolate and vanilla. I love both, so you can choose whichever one you like better."

There was a small moment of silence, his suspicion and apparent aggravation vanishing in surprise. "You were to buy something for yourself," he then said.

"I did," Christine replied, holding up the cupcakes. "One for you, one for me. Don't you want one?"

After more waiting, Christine was a little relieved when Erik stretched out his hand and picked up one of them, holding it carefully between his long fingers.

"Good choice," she said, forcing herself to smile at him. She was pretty positive that he hadn't made a real choice—he had simply reached out and grabbed the first one he could touch because he wasn't sure what else to do. She ate hers quietly, glad to have something sweet.

The sun was gone now, but the streets were illuminated by the numerous shops and buildings and cafes and streetlamps. People were still out, enjoying the warm summer night. Couples were walking down the streets, hand-in-hand, and Christine let her gaze linger on them for a little bit, feeling sad. Then she forced herself to stop feeling sorry for herself and finished off her cupcake.

She glanced toward Erik and saw that his glowing eyes were still looking at her. The cupcake had disappeared, and she was pretty positive that he hadn't eaten it. But it still made her feel good to know that he had humored her and had taken one from her.

"Perhaps you wish to return now," he said after a while longer.

"Sure," she said. "That's fine."

But she wasn't sure if she should go back.

It was a little disconcerting to be back underground after being above it…almost like she had forgotten. As they walked, she noticed how loud her breathing was, and she tried to quiet herself. It was so silent underground.

As soon as they had started walking down the long hallways and stairways, Christine had become a little scared by the dark. Normally it didn't bother her too much, but this was…dark. The only light was from Erik's glowing eyes, and that wasn't very comforting. While walking down a steep staircase, she had stumbled a little and had instantly grabbed his arm and shoulder to keep from falling on her face.

"Oops," she had then whispered after she had steadied herself. "Sorry. I almost fell." Cautiously, carefully, and slowly, she slid her hand down his arm and gingerly grabbed his cuff. She had hoped he wouldn't mind.

There was a long pause, and Erik's gaze rested on her face for a long time, as if testing to see if she would keep hold of him.

"It's dark down here," she had said, trying to explain. "And…kinda scary. And I don't want to fall or get lost because I can't see you."

After another moment, he turned around and began to walk again.

They were continuing on their way, and Christine was quietly mulling over what her stay here meant and how it looked from an outsider's perspective. Weird, she was sure…But nobody really understood the strange sort of…relationship she had with Erik. Not that they were in a relationship or anything. But…she was living in his house. A murderer's house. A murderer's underground house.

Christine felt her breath hitch, and she looked up to Erik. His legs were longer than hers, and so she had to walk a little faster than she normally would to keep up with him. Gathering her breath and some courage, she said,

"Erik?"

"Yes?" he replied without pause.

"I was wondering…It's just a question. Mr. Khan was telling me—"

"You would be wise to take a grain of salt with everything Nadir says, Christine," Erik interrupted.

"Yeah," she said, unsure of what else to say. "Um, anyway. He was telling me that you…Uh, that you haven't—haven't done…your job since February."

Erik paused and turned to look at her, his glowing eyes fixated on her.

"Is that true?" she whispered at last, needing to know. "Erik? …Is it?"

There was another long moment of silence, and they stood there, her gripping his sleeve tightly. Christine felt her heart beating loudly. She was hoping…praying…

Finally, Erik said, "Yes. I have…retired, as it were."

A hot swoop of relief and joy burst through her, and she felt a huge grin spread on her lips.

"Really?" she breathed. "Erik! Thank you! Thank you!"

He looked suspicious. "Why should this please you?" he asked.

"Because…because…" she stuttered. Why wouldn't it please her? "Because you're not killing people anymore! I don't…like it that you killed people."

"Is that so?" he said, almost sounding amused.

"Of course! Of course I didn't like the fact that people paid you to…kill other people. I'm glad you stopped. I'm really happy you did."

After a moment, Erik said, "I would do any number of things for your happiness, Christine."

"I know," she said, feeling her hot cheeks sting against the cool air. "Thank you." Then she ventured to say, "Erik? Do you mind…if I ask why?"

"Why?" he echoed in confusion.

"Why you stopped."

"Ah." He turned back around and began walking. She followed him obediently, hoping that they were close to the house. She was beginning to feel a little tired from the long trek up and down.

For a few minutes, he was silent, and she wondered if he was going to answer her question. Just when she was going to ask him again, he said,

"How can I destroy after what you have given me?"

Christine blinked, completely confused. What was he even talking about?

"Um…what?" she said. "What did I give you?" She thought back. Cookies?

He stopped again and turned to look, his eyes oddly bright.

"You gave me your soul," he said. "When you sang…for me. When the music lived in you. I experienced it with you, and something so profound has an effect, you see. I cannot destroy, not when I carry the pure light and innocence you have given me. I cannot sully you. I would never wish to do such a thing to you, my Christine. Surely you understand this."

She nodded immediately, not understanding at all. What did he even mean about her soul and the 'pure light' and him 'sullying her' and everything else? Did he expect her to understand?

"Yeah, Erik," she said, her voice cracking a little. "Thanks…thank you. I'm glad you—you retired."

When they were back, she wrapped herself up in a blanket. Erik had promised to play his violin for her, and she was looking forward to it immensely. Although she was still a little shaky from what had just happened in the tunnels, she didn't want to make a big deal out of it. Erik was…strange, that was all. It probably wasn't good to read too much into his words. And even though he obviously cared about her a lot, the number one reason she was here was to practice and to improve her voice.

"I have a gift for you."

She saw that he was watching her carefully, and her heart began to flutter a little.

"Really?" she asked, trying not to sound too childish. "What is it?"

He moved closer to her, pulling something small out of his pocket. She looked as he slowly took her left hand and pulled it up a little.

To her shock, he slipped a gold ring onto her finger. It was cool and smooth, and Christine stared at it.

"It is merely a token," Erik then said, seemingly a little unnerved by her silence. "Nothing more, I assure you. It is a symbol of your devotion to the music."

"Yeah," she managed to breathe. "Yeah. It's fine. It's great." She flexed her fingers, the weight of the ring unfamiliar but not uncomfortable. "Thank you, Erik. It's pretty."

"You will wear it always," he said. "It is yours to wear forever."

She managed to smile, though she kept her lips sealed. She didn't know about forever…Eventually that ring would have to come off to make way for a wedding ring. Still, it was a gift from Erik, and she wanted to make him happy, so she would wear it for the duration of her stay.

Christine went to the couch and sat down, pulling her legs up to tuck her feet underneath her. Erik had gone over to his violin and was rosining his bow, the horsehair glinting a little. She could see the dust of the rosin rise up in the air. He had removed his gloves, and his bony fingers somehow looked graceful as they adjusted the bow tension and fiddled a little with the fine tuners of the violin. He tucked it underneath his chin, and somehow it looked so natural and complete being there. She was amazed that he hadn't mentioned it earlier. He set the bow on the strings, the anticipation heavy in the air, and he looked at her for a few long moments. Christine felt her heart stop, and then it began to pound heavily.

This new aspect in her life was terrifying. During the past months, she had never even considered factoring in Erik's love for her—and she knew he did love her. Now that she knew, now that he knew she knew, how would things change? Would he keep her down here forever? Would he try to make her love him back? She was afraid to ask and afraid to even think of it.

Somehow, his music managed to draw her away from her own troubling thoughts for a while, and she closed her eyes and listened to the beautiful sounds filling the air. While the violin reminded her of her father, the music did not. This music was beautiful, but there was an undercurrent of something else, something that had never been present when Gustave had played for her. She wasn't sure if she liked it or not.

After he finished, she wiped away a few tears and clapped for him. "That was amazing," she said honestly. "You're so talented."

"Thank you." His response was, oddly, courteous, and as he looked at her, his eyes glowing and his thin mouth stretched into what she thought was the first smile she had ever seen him give, she suddenly felt incredibly sad. Could they really come out of this whole thing unscathed and happy? She wasn't sure if she wanted to be honest answering herself.