So sorry I havent updated for such a long time. I really did lose track of time. But school is over now, for the most part, so no more stress! Alot more time to write as well, so there will hopefully be more updates.

I do not own POTO

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Erik sat on the sofa in his living room. He was eagerly waiting for Christine to wake up, but he did not want to frighten her by standing just outside her door. However, he kept his eyes locked on the door, so he would see her as she emerged from the Louis Philippe room. Erik got to his feet as he saw the handle turn and Christine stepped out of her room. He was instantly worried.

Christine looked ill. There were dark circles under her eyes. Her shoulders were slumped, and she looked as though she would fall over at any given moment. Erik was tempted to run to her immediately. But he thought better of it and took a more gentle approach.

"Good morning, Christine," he greeted her, keeping his concern out of his voice.

"Good morning, Erik," she smiled weakly.

He dipped his head and gestured to the sofa. Christine started toward it, but Erik noted that there was a difference in the way she walked. She did not have the light step that was usual for her. Her steps seemed slower, as though she was weighed down by a load. He watched her carefully as she took her seat on the sofa. He stood, studying her for a moment, then sat down in the chair across from her. She offered him another smile.

"Would you like breakfast, Christine?" Erik ventured, trying to keep his tone level.

"No, Erik," she sighed. "But thank you."

Erik nodded and pretended to occupy himself with something in the kitchen. His eyes never left her, but she took no notice of his sideways glances. She sat with her feet tucked under her, and she stared into empty space, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. He thought he saw a tear threaten at the corner of her eye, but she blinked and it was as though it had never been. Erik felt his heart clench at seeing her like this. She was so...broken. The light that once radiated from her entire being was gone, leaving her in a pale, almost cold beauty. Her expression was mournful and she sighed. She sighed the most heartrending sigh Erik had ever heard. He felt an overpowering urge to hold her, to find what was causing her this pain, to solve this problem.

But he couldnt. As much as he wanted to, he could not risk frightening her away. Especially when she was in such a vulnerable state. But he hated seeing her like this. He could see the sadness on her face, where her pretty smile used to be. It was driving him mad. He had never felt such a strong desire to draw someone from misery. He felt like he would do anything to please her. He thought of singing for her, but then thought better of it. If he sang for her in the state he was in, he would not sound comforting. he would sound desperate and forceful. He would scare her away. He combed through his thoughts, searching for a solution. Music had always succeeded in releiving some of his own pain, but could the same be said for Christine?

He looked over his shoulder again. He saw the most incredible being in the world sitting on his sofa. His heart swelled as he saw her, and he drove all other thoughts and uncertainties away as he made his way into his bedroom. He left the door open and sat down on his piano bench, focusing on the pleasant feelings he had when he thought of Christine. The notes came easily. It was a soft, pretty little song. The melody lifted and fell quickly to the harmony and it all came together to form a simple peice. It was not intense or overbearing. No. This song was for Christine. This song was Christine. Erik felt another surge through his chest and he inhaled deeply, as though he was breathing the music itself. He felt a smile pull at his lips as he expressed the simple joys he felt though his music. The simple joys that Christine inspired.

Christine felt tired. It wasn't the sort of tired that going to sleep would help. She had not slept well for the beginning of the night, plagued by nightmares. But after a particularly dreadful dream, she remembered being soothed and calmed into a restful slumber. She had received all the sleep she needed, but it did not help the weariness she felt. She had hardly noticed Erik that morning, her thoughts were so distant. He had asked her if she wanted to eat breakfast. But she had found that she had no appetite. The weight of her emotions had finally collapsed upon her, and she was being smothered by it. She could not so much as clear her thoughts, much less come up with coherent things to say to another person. She did not reign in her thoughts, prefering to let them wander. How could she ever emerge into the city like this?

Just when it seemed to Christine that there was surely nothing left but this hazy daze she was in...there was music.

It was soft and sweet, but at the same time very deep and soul stirring. It was like a leaf falling to rest upon the surface of a pond. The sound dispelled her deepest fears and worries. It was impossible to dwell on the oppressing thoughts when those enchanted notes filled the air. She rose from where she had been seated and closed her eyes, allowing the music to fill her up from head to toe. She lifted her head and parted her lips as though she was trying to catch rain in her mouth. Nothing like this had ever before graced her ears. Christine's eyes snapped open. There was only one person who could produce such a heavenly sound. Erik.

Christine slowly made her way to the open door of Erik's bedroom, savoring the music as it flowed around her. She stepped into the room and beheld Erik. He was seated in front of his piano, his fingers dancing over the keys. But he was not playing a song. He was willing music itself to come from the piano by delicately touching the keys of the instrument he weilded. He was creating beauty. He was painting his art over the silence of the world. The world was truly silent compared to this indescribable music. And Erik had brought it there. He swayed slightly as the music coursed through him and out of him. He seemed to be at peace. This was Erik. This was the true Erik. He was not a villain, a ghost, a phantom or a corpse. He was music.

With the last chord, Erik sighed and stood up, turning to leave his room. He immediately stopped. Christine stood only a few feet away from him, and a tear rolled down her cheek. She seemed entranced by something, and Erik realized that it was his music that had done this to her. He swelled with happiness and took a long step to bring himself closer to his Christine. He immediately saw that some color had returned to her face, and the circles beneath her eyes were not as dark. He wiped the stray tear from her face with his hankercheif.

"Erik..." she gazed up at him with wonder. Erik knew that his eyes were betraying him, but he responded calmly regardless.

"Yes, Christine?" he looked down at her, but she did not speak.

Christine looked into the golden eyes that seemed to hover over her. They danced and flickered with what could only be described as happiness. He had been as enthralled by the music as she herself had been.

"That music..." Christine started but could not finish. There were no words to describe what it had been like to listen to and the effect it had had on her could not be disregarded.

"It was for you, Christine," Erik murmered, his voice quiet and reserved. Christine had never heard this tone before.

"I..." Christine could not adequately express her gratitude, or sheer joy.

Erik felt a prickling sensation at his core again as Christine furrowed her brow. She had the most adorable expression, one of delight, amazement and confusion all mixed together. He wanted to pick her up and spin her around, to make her know that he wanted her to be as happy as she was right now forever. He had seen couples on the rooftop, the man would pick his lady up and twirl her around as if she were extremely lightweight. He had never understood why they had done it, but now it was clear. He was overflowing with happiness, and he wanted the same for Christine. But he quickly reprimanded himself for thinking he could be so free with her.

Christine felt a rush of joy. That music had been for her! He had made that beautiful music...for her. She had nothing to trouble her now. There was nothing that could ruin this feeling. Erik had taken the effort to produce something that was absolutely flawless, and he had done it for her.

Erik felt dizzy. Christine now beamed up at him. It was as if the sun itself had decided to come into Christine to shine though her. His fingers ached to brush her cheek, to run through her golden hair. Her pink lips looked full and inviting the way she smiled up at him. Soft, delicate, and moist...No! He could not give in! She would run screaming from the room if she could hear the thoughts going through his head. He stepped back away from her and looked back to his piano. Yes, there was nothing about his piano that could unsettle him like Christine did. He took strange comfort from that fact. He sat on the piano bench once again and absently studied the keys on the piano.

Erik felt Christine beside him as she also took a seat on the piano bench. She looked at him with her head slightly tilted and her eyes sparkling. That was the look. That was the look he wanted to see on her face every day, every moment that she was with him. He felt a certain pride, for he had been the one to put this look on her face. That odd, warm sensation rose to the surface again. Erik immediately resisted it, focusing once more upon his piano. He felt his heartrate return to normal, but his head still spun. He blinked to try and clear his thoughts.

"Erik?" he heard Christine's voice beside him, clear and soft.

"Yes, Christine?" Erik tilted his head to emphasise his interest.

"Thank you." Her lips turned up at the corners. "For everything."

"Of course," he answered.

Christine studied Erik for a while. He was leaning over the keys of his piano slightly, and his eyes were locked in place, as though he had detected something that required his undivided attention. He looked so calm. He was not tense, he was not angry. He just sat silently, as though he was going to play, but his hands never left his lap. He was such a curious person. At that moment, he looked like the most gentle creature that had ever existed, sitting in front of a piano with his hands folded in his lap. But wasn't that what he had promised her? That he would be gentle if she would love him? Did she love him? Christine did not want to dive into such deep waters at the time, but chose to observe this new Erik instead.

However, her observation was cut short by an audible churning of her stomach. She flushed a deep crimson as she saw Erik turn his head in her direction. He chuckled and stood, holding out his hand for her.

"Would you like breakfast now, Christine?" he asked.

Christine nodded and took the hand he had offered her. She expected him to wrap his thin fingers around her hand, but he did not. He simply allowed her hand to rest in his palm as he led her toward the kitchen. Upon reaching their destination, Erik pulled out a chair for her at the table, then set about the task of making her breakfast.

Erik had desperately wanted to cut his hand off as soon as Christine had taken it. It was his own fault for giving it to her in the first place. As soon as her fingers had brushed his upturned palm, a searing yet pleasant feeling had traveled all the way up his arm to settle in his chest. It felt as though his blood had become as warm and thick as honey. He led Christine to the table in his kitchen and pulled a chair out for her, then left her so he could prepare her breakfast. There was still a tingling on his skin where she had touched him. He shook his head quickly to remain in control. Why was this happening now? He had been fine only a short while ago.

He quickly set Christine's food in front of her and sat in the chair across from her. She ate one bite after another, looking at her food, but not really seeing it. Her eyes were distant again, but not sad like they had previously been. She seemed to be pondering something as she ate. Eventually, she had finished her food and looked back toward Erik.

Christine had been thinking of her odd night. Now that her stomach was in the process of being appeased, she could think more clearly. It was not possible to be soothed into sleep by nothing, so something must have done it. Someone. There was only one person who could have, and once again, that person was Erik. She looked up at him from her end of te table. He was watching her, a strange glint in his eyes. It seemed odd to Christine how she had never noticed these small things that changed how he appeared, that explained how he felt. But now she could note and understand some of the things that told how he was feeling. Maybe it had never been difficult. Perhaps she had just never taken the time to see them.

She saw Erik rise from his seat and take her plate. She felt very rude for assuming he would take her plate and immediately got to her feet to help him. But as she stood, her foot caught the hem of her dress, and she tripped forward. SHe braced herself for the impact, but it never came. Erik had spun around to catch her and she now looked up into his masked face.

Erik's heart pounded in his chest. Had he not glanced over his shoulder at that exact moment, Christine would have fallen and likely hurt herself. All of the odd sensations that had been coursinsg throughout his body seemed to dissolve as she lurched forward. His instinct to protect her from harm had overcome them so that he could come to her aide. Erik felt something click into place inside of his head. He could control these feelings around her. He could push them aside for her benefit. He was in control. Erik felt relief at first, then confidence. He would not let anything interfere with his precious time with Christine now, not even his own feelings. He held her for a moment, then stood her up again, releasing a small chuckle. He then turned around to go about the business of cleaning the dishes. However, Christine seemed to have the same idea, and also made for the sink.

"Christine," he started, taken off guard. "You do not need to wash up. I will take care of it."

"Please, Erik," she shook her head. "I think it's the least I could do for you after all the things you've done for me."

Erik blinked. He watched as Christine began to thouroughly scrub the plate she had just eaten off of. He felt quite useless, and went to stand by her side. As soon as she finished cleaning the dish, he gently removed it from her hands to dry it and put it where it belonged. He would make it a point not to tell her where the dishes were placed in the kitchen, so he would always be needed to help. They finished the dishes and Christine used a corner of Erik's towell to dry her hands. She smiled up at him.

"At least I can wash dishes without getting hurt," she spoke, the trace of a laugh in her voice. "But then again, I was well supervised."

Erik allowed a small chuckle. He did not like putting her to work like a servant. She was his guest, and should be treated as such.

"Christine, there will be no need for you to take care of anything while you are under this roof," Erik informed her. "You are a guest in my house, therefore you will have no more responsiblilty than a guest would."

"Don't be silly, Erik," she shook her head again. "I would rather make myself useful than sit and watch you work."

Erik nodded and gestured toward the living room. He still did not like the idea of Christine doing chores, but if it was what she wanted, who was he to take that away from her? He walked beside her as she made her way to sit on the couch, then took his seat in the chair opposite her. Erik had enjoyed his time with Christine immensely, but he felt guilty for keeping her down with him for so long. She didn't deserve to be locked away with him.

"Christine, I think it's time for me to take you back to the surface," Erik spoke up.

"Oh," Christine blinked. A horrible feeling welled up inside of her. She remembered why she was down there at all, and it was the same reason she dreaded returning to the city.

"It isn't healthy for you to be down here," Erik tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "You need to be in the sun and fresh air."

"It isn't healthy for you, either," Christine murmered.

"What? Would you rather me walk around in broad daylight?" Erik chuckled, a hint of bitterness in the sound. "I don't think so. I am more suited for the darkness. Not like you."

"Oh," Christine blushed. She wished she could come up with something more intelligent to say to him. "I am sorry for that, Erik."

"There is no need for you to be sorry," Erik shook his head. "It is not your fault. You are certainly not to blame for my...well, you are not to blame."

Christine berated herself for bringing up such a sensative topic. She wanted to turn the conversation around. How had his face come into the picture at all?

"I will take you back up whenever you are ready," Erik broke the silence.

Christine nodded. Then a thought entered her head.

"Would you spend the day with me?" she looked up at Erik and saw him blink in shock or surprise.

"Pardon me?" he choked.

"Would you come to the surface with me and stay with me for the day?" she felt her heart beat a little faster in anticipation of his answer.

"Christine," he sighed. "I'm not sure if that is such a good idea."

"I see," Christine felt her heart sink. "I'm just nervous about going back up to the surface. I dont know how people will react after what happened."

"Ah," Erik looked to the side. "You are afraid of what people will say."

"Yes," Christine looked down at her hands.

"Then we suffer from the same problem," Erik shook his head. "We are too concerned about what others will think of us. As long as we are sure of ourselves, it should not matter. As long as we beleive in our decisions, it should not matter. But it does matter, regardless of whether or not it should."

"But you did not have a choice in this matter, Erik," Christine reached out and placed her hand over his.

Erik looked back at Christine and glanced at her hand which rested atop his own. She was such a kind human being. If everyone was as kind as Christine was, the world would be a very pleasant place to be, even for people like himself. He gently grasped her hand and looked down into her bright blue eyes. She was worried about what people would think of her for making a decision that would decide her future. It had hurt her to have made that decision, and people were going to hurt her even more by judging her for it. That or they were going to approve of it and still hurt her by doing so. Erik could understand why she didn't want to face that.

"No, I did not," he whispered, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. "But it does not matter whather or not I chose it. It is what it is, and there is nothing to be done to change that."

Christine nodded and Erik thought she tightened her grip on his hand, but he could have imagined it.

"Whether or not we do so today," Erik started. "We shall have to face the world eventually."

"We?" Christine asked in a hesitant voice.

"Yes," Erik nodded, turning her hand over in his, so that her palm faced upwards. "We shall face the world together."

"Thank you, Erik," she whispered.

"No, Christine," Erik lightly traced a pattern on her palm. "You do not need to thank me for this. This is something I should have dealt with long ago. It is about time I created a life for myself in the city."

Suddenly, Christine jerked her hand away from him.

"I'm sorry Christine," Erik felt himself growing hot. "I wont do it again."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Christine giggled, taking his hand in her's once again. "That tickled is all."

"Oh," Erik did feel quite ridiculous now, but an idea had formed. "This?"

He lightly ran his fingers up and down the underside of her forearm.

"Yes, yes, that!" she laughed, the sound filling the room. Erik refrained from continuing, not wanting to run the risk of becoming a nuisance. He knew that some things, though amusing at first, could soon become irritating. But he had made her laugh none the less, if only for a short period of time.

"I see," he chuckled. "I didn't know you were ticklish."

"Some people use that to my disadvantage," she smiled. "I try to keep it a secret. But now you know, so keep it to yourself!"

"You have my word," Erik softly assured her.

Christine felt like a little girl. She hadn't laughed like that since before her father had died. Her father had been the only person to know that she was ticklish, and he had constantly used that against her. She thought that having someone else know her and her father's secret would hurt, but now that Erik knew, she felt like they were closer. Like a barrier between them had been torn down. She was very glad that she and Erik had a secret to share.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Well, I know it's not the best chapter I've put up, or the longest, but I felt like I owed you guys something, so I hope you liked it! Please review!