I woke up from a dreamless sleep, and remembered my Angel was coming to see me this morning. I mentally kicked myself for feeling so dizzy and giddy. You love Raoul, Christine. And Raoul loves you. I still wasn't sure how I felt about my Angel. I didn't even know his name. Did he even have a name?

I changed quickly and ran a brush through my curly hair. It was Sunday, and way too early for anyone to be awake. I sat on my bed, and inspected my arm. It was even more swollen than it was last night. It was then I realized I had completely forgot to see a doctor, like I had promised my Angel. I sighed and picked up a book to read until my Angel got here.

It seemed like hours until I heard the familiar voice call my name. "Christine?" It called softly.

I jumped up from my bed. "Angel!" He entered through the mirror, looking around my room as if he thought there were people listening.

"Good morning, Christine," he whispered, taking off his fedora and setting in on a table. "So, how does your arm feel? What did the doctor say?" He asked, getting straight to the point. It was one of my favorite things about him. No matter what, he always got straight to the point. No dancing around the subject. He just dove right in.

"Oh…Angel…well…" I stammered. "I didn't actually see one." I looked at the floor. "I'm sorry,"

He hardened his glare and stepped closer to me. "Christine, you have to get that checked out."

Why was he so obsessed with my arm? Yes, it hurt but it couldn't be anything worse than a broken arm. I found the whole situation odd.

"It's really no big deal," I said. "why are you so worried about me?"

Something in him seemed to snap when I said that. "It is a big deal! I hurt you! I was so caught up in myself that I hurt you! Christine, I would never purposely harm you! Never! But I did! And if you were severely harmed, I would never forgive myself! And I've already harmed so many people…I just don't want to harm you…" His voice trailed off, and he began sobbing into his hands.

I didn't know what to do. My Angel had just come to visit me to bring me comfort, to make sure I was okay. But somehow, I had made him cry. Out of instinct, I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him into a close hug. He stiffened at first at my touch, but soon began to warm up to me and gingerly placed his arms around my waist.

When we pulled away, I looked up at him and gave him a slight smile. He stood there, with tears filling his eyes, and looked down into my eyes. "Christine…" He whispered. "that was…..that was so…..wonderful. I've never been…had anyone show affection for me before."

I looked at him wide-eyed. "Never? You've never hugged anyone before?"

He shook his head sadly. "Only you, Christine."

Sympathy for the poor man standing in front of me filled my heart. "Oh, Angel…."

"Please stop calling me Angel," He looked at the ground. "I am anything but an Angel. I lied to you about being one and took advantage of your vulnerability. But you've shown me so much compassion…I would understand if you didn't want to see me anymore. I'm sure I wasn't the most pleasant person to hug. I'll just leave. I won't bother you anymore."

I didn't understand why he suddenly got the idea I didn't want to see him anymore. Or why he thought he was unpleasant to hug. Admittedly, he was much more enjoyable to huge than Raoul. My Angel had a surprisingly firm body, and he was warm. He seemed like someone you would go to when you needed a shoulder to cry on. My face flushed, as I realized how much I longed for that hug to last. I felt so wrong. I was courting Raoul. No appropriate woman would lust for another man when she already had one.

"No, Ang-," I began, before correcting myself. "No. I want to keep our lessons. I want to keep talking to you. You are my best friend, and I want to keep our friendship. Please, won't you stay in my dressing room for awhile longer? Or maybe I could return to your lair?"

He shook his head. "No…I can't allow that. Maybe another day…" He turned around to leave, and as he was about to enter the mirror again, I called out to him.

"Wait! If you don't want me to call you Angel anymore…what should I call you? You must have a first name, right?"

He turned around and looked like he was trying hard to remember something. "It's…..Erik. Erik Destler, if I recall. It's….it's been awhile since anyone's called me that."

"Erik," I liked the way it felt on my lips. "Well, I'll see you Erik. Will you visit me soon?"

He silently nodded, turned on his heel, and left.

It had been about a month and a half since Erik had visited me in my dressing room and when I had hugged him. Erik had continued to give me lessons, and every so often he would come into my dressing room and we'd talk together. No matter what the topic, we always ended up laughing. Erik's laugh was beautiful, and something l longed to hear. It felt as if every second we spent talking, the small attraction I had for him grew.