A/N: Well, I have to say: Thank you for the reviews! Keep them coming please :) I am really excited for this story. But, guys, please remember - this is a romance/tragedy. Do not be all surprised at the ending of this story (which may come reasonably soon because I plan on updating pretty readily) As you can probably tell from the title of this chapter, Chrisitne doesn't stay mad at Erik for too long :) Oh, and I picture all the characters as they are in the 2004 movie, except Meg, who I picture as Summer Strallen, who played her in the original 'Love Never Dies' cast. Well, this chapter doesn't end with much of a bang. Just a question :/ ah, well.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the song Christine sings in this chapter called 'The Heart is Slow to Learn', it belongs to Frank Wildhorn's 'Dracula, the Musical'. I just thought it works for this chapter :) I do not own any of the characters of 'Phatom of the Opera', except a few OC's which will come in later. But all the recognizable characters belong to Gaston Leroux. And a special shoutout to my sister Victoria (username on fanfiction is Kate Pendragon) and my cousin, Elle, for putting together the picture for this story with photoshop. Thanks! Find other of Victoria (and Elle's) creations on (her username is KatePendragon on there, as well).

Eternally Yours

4. Yet the Soul Obeys

Christine stared at the beautiful, glossy water. The lights danced and swirled about in the deep blue lake, reflecting and dancing. The sight was breathtaking. She could still feel her Angel's – Erik's hand in hers, although they had broken apart minutes before. She moved her gaze to him, though he stared directly forward, steering the boat toward his lair. Something about his presence, something in his eyes, his words… everything he did was like a mystery, and it fascinated her. She longed to hear him sing to her again, for it was the only time she felt… whole. Somehow, this man, whatever he was, he could make her feel special.

He could make her feel beautiful.

She had never felt beautiful, only self-conscious. Only nervous. But now, with him, she felt safe and secure, like she was enveloped in a quiet, kind darkness, guarded by her masked Angel.

Although at the same time her infatuations with him grew, something in her mind grew stronger. Thoughts beating against her mind, telling her to run, to never come back. That this man was dangerous – he was the Phantom of the Opera.

These warnings overwhelmed her, almost to the point where she would jump from the boat and go as fast as she could back to her dressing room. But all thoughts melted away as she heard a loud creaking noise, and saw a brass gate ascending. And soon the boat entered, the most dazzling place she had ever seen.

The whole room was lit only by candle. The floors made of stone; an organ was place against a wall, near a desk. Across the lake, there was a doorway, though there was no door. Only a black veil standing where a door should've, and the veil was pushed aside, revealing a bedroom with a swan shaped bed. Inside the bedroom, Christine could see a small table, different masks sitting on it. A full white mask, a second half mask, a black mask only circling around the eyes. But most frightening, Christine saw one blood red mask, black and purple feathers sticking from out of it. It was a full mask, and it was in the most horrifying expression. Christine looked away.

She felt the boat lurch, then stop. And she realized Erik had stepped out, and was tying the boat to a small post on one of the stone steps. Erik offered her his hand away, and this time she took it without hesitation, longing for his touch. She moved to her feet and stepped out of the boat. The floor was cold and a bit wet, but she didn't seem to notice.

Christine bit her lip, staring into Erik mesmerizing green eyes. She tried to look away, but she couldn't. Her hand was still in his, and heat shot up her arm. She could hardly breathe, just staring at him.

"Christine…" Erik said in his low, silky voice. Christine felt her breathing hitch as her name left his lips. Why did he enchant her so? Why was his touch almost too much to bear? He was only a man… a man who had deceived her. Christine stared down at the ground, and gasped a bit when Erik's hand went to her chin and tilted her head up, so she was looking at him. Even when they were staring into each others' eyes, he did not move his hand away. "Christine," His thumb moved around her cheeks, caressing her face, "I know what you must think of me… You must believe me, I had no intention of deceiving you."

"And what, then, were you doing?" Christine said, a flush of anger coursing through her, "You told me things, Erik. Promised me things." She tried not to show the desire bubbling inside her, though at the same time, she felt embarrassment and anger rush through her. She had believed him. She must have looked so foolish.

Erik's eyes were full of sorrow, "I never wanted to make you lose faith in me. Nothing I said to you was a lie. I taught you music, I was there to hold your hand when your Father died. Christine, it was all for you. It was always for you."

"You were – you are – the Phantom," Christine replied, her voice not sounding angry at all, no matter how hard she tried, "I was frightened of you ever since I came here. I've lived in fear of you, Erik."

Erik closed his eyes, "You were never in any danger of me."

"No, but all those around me were. How was I to know, Erik? How was I to know that the Phantom cared for me? That he guided me, and watched me." Christine challenged.

That he loved you. "Christine, I never hurt any at the Opera. I never – "

"You could have though. You have all the power to control the Opera, at you whim." Christine stepped back, out of his reach and feeling suddenly cold. "You still might," She looked up at him with hard eyes, "I don't know who you are. I do not know what you are capable of, what you want ."

You. "I want nothing more than to be your Angel, Christine," Erik closed his hand, just where Christine had been standing a moment ago. "That is all I have ever wanted."

Christine tucked a strand of her beautiful brown hair behind her ear, not meeting Erik's gaze, "Why?"

Erik felt a small smile grow on his lips, "Oh, Christine. You are the only person who has ever listened to me, ever cared about me. You were the only person I have seen smile at me – for me. You have trusted me, admired me, kept me locked deep in your heart for so many years. You've allowed me to guide you, allowed me to hold your hand. All I ever wanted my whole life was to have someone like you, someone to care about me." Erik was careful, so very careful, not to let the word love escape his lips. He had nearly said it so many times just in these last few minutes.

Christine felt a tear prick her eye, and it slowly cascaded down her cheek. Erik stepped forward, looking concerned. And ever so carefully, he wiped the tear away, noticing Christine did not back away. "Why are you crying?"

"I have just…" Christine closed her eyes, "I have never felt so…" She searched for words, "wanted."

Erik wanted right then to embrace her, to feel her body against his. But he hardly moved a muscle. "Oh, Christine, you are so wanted. I… all I ever needed is for someone like you to understand me, and you have given that to me all these years," His next words were spoken softly, "And if it should be over now… I will never forget these years, Christine. Never."

Christine's heart pounded wildly in her chest. She did not want it to be over. No, no, something in him bewitched her. He had unlocked a section in her heart, and had make a home there. "I… I will not… I will not leave you…" She stuttered helplessly.

Erik wanted to cry. She did not want to leave him! "Christine…" He said breathlessly… "sing."

"What?"

"Sing."

The command was simple, but Christine felt a loss for words, "I don't – what should I sing?"

Erik moved over to his organ, and began to play a melody that Christine recognized. It had been one of the many songs she had sung during her music lessons. She took in a quick breath.

"Why do we risk all we have…?

Why give into the lure that calls everything forbidden…?

What attracts us… to the night…?

And captures us… however hard we fight…?

It seems, the heart is slow to learn… no one can tell it what to do….

It never learns from its mistakes, what twists and turns it puts… us through…"

Erik's eyes closed, hearing Christine's angelic voice singing his music. He could feel her eyes on him, put her did not turn. He focused on playing the melody for her. For his Christine.

"Oh yes, the heart is slow to learn… so every lesson is in vain…

It goes the way it wants to go…. Regardless of the pain…"

Christie couldn't help but stare at Erik, watching him play the lovely tune for her. God, what had he done to her? She should hate him. She should run away from him – the Phantom of the Opera. And still, she stayed. Stayed because of the silent pull this man had on her.

"And so, I foolishly go on… Ignoring all the signs... dismissing all the doubt inside me…

For the heart is slow to learn… no one can tell it what to do…

It never learns from its mistakes, that's why it finally breaks, and over…powers you…

She watched him, wondering. What did he feel for her? Was it just a fatherly love her had for her? Or… was it more? Was he what she had been searching for all these years, but still missing? She closed her eyes.

"Some passions… never let you go…

Some fires never cease to burn…

It shouldn't could as a surprise…

That the heart is slow… to learn…

The heart is slow to learn…

The heart is slow… to learn…"

Christine closed her eyes, listening to the final notes of the song, her mind whirling. She took a step backward as Erik stood from the seat I front of the organ. "Th-that is a lovely song," Christine stuttered.

"Yes," Erik replied, his eyes casting up her. What did she see when she looked at him? Just a man? A monster? Erik tore his gaze away, thinking.

"Erik?" Christine's voice was small, and she took a deep breath.

"Yes?"

Christine almost didn't answer, her whole body going numb. But she looked up at him, her Angel, the Phantom. Erik. "Do you love me?"