A/N: Well, here is my next chapter for 'Eternally Yours'. I am so excited about this story. I have a pretty good idea of where it'll go and everything. So it shouldn't be too long before the next update. This is a reasonably long chapter, it is about 6 1/2 pages. And THANK YOU to anybody who reviewed, added this to their favorites, or put this on their alert list. You guys are so much appreciated! A special thanks to:

SaVrAiNoiR for reviewing, favoriting, and putting me on our author alert!

Phantom-of-the-Opera-Phan for reviewing and (i think?) putting on alert

Kate Pendragon (my lovely sister) for being the first reviewer!

helikesitheymikey for all 3 of your kind reviews!

This chapter is called 'Unraveling' because it is the beginning of the unraveling of the plot. With Meg's subtle jealousy, the cute fluff scene with E/C in the beginning, and our hated Vicomte joining us for the first time. Sorry for the semi-cliffhanger (gahhh I can't help it!) I will try to update as soon as possible. Anywho, review and tell me your thoughts!

{Rose Diamund}

Eternally Yours

5. Unraveling

Erik couldn't do anything but stare at Christine – his Christine, looking up at him with her beautiful brown eyes shining with wonder. He could feel his breathing slow, and he tried to put into words all his thoughts, his wildest dreamings of his darling Christine. How he yearned for her touch, for her to hear his name upon her lips. How he longed to hold her body close to his, to sing to her, see her smile up at him – that bright, lovely smile. All he could say, breathlessly, was, "Yes."

Christine's eyes closed, and Erik could see her expression change instantly. Although, it was difficult to read her face. "Erik…" She whispered, her voice trailing off a bit. What could she say? Thoughts beat against her mind and she bit her lip, opening her eyes to meet Erik's. His enchanting, smoky green eyes. So filled with sorrow and emptiness; she could almost see into his beaten, battered soul. But still, she could feel his heartbeat in his music, his voice, when he sang to her. Just remembering his voice made her calm. Made her mind be washed of all regret, suddenly craving to hear him.

"Please," Erik put his finger to Christine's lips, and he felt her whole body tense as he made contact to her. "Please, Christine. Don't speak. I know…" He closed his eyes, "I know you can never love me. Christine, for so long I have longed for somebody – anybody – do see me like a man. Not an Angel, not a demon. And you," His fingers gently caressed Christine's cheek, her eyes fluttering shut, "you were the first person to see me as that. Just moments ago, when we were speaking. I was nothing but a man, Christine. A man."

Christine opened her eyes, "Why should anyone see you differently?"

Erik felt his heart stop beating. God, if only she knew. If only she had seen the horror behind the mask… of his cursed life, his black, cold heart. How he hated the world and everything in it… except… "You are such a beautiful creature. Delicate, like a flower. You have a heart, a soul, a life." He spat the last word bitterly. "And I, only a monster. Too afraid to step from the shadows. Too afraid."

"Afraid? Afraid of what?" Christine asked, her cheeks still tingling with warmth from where Erik's fingers had been. And she felt herself blush.

"The world, my dear. It is cruel and cold and mean where I've been. It in unforgiving, unloving. But you," Erik felt like he would double over, wracked with sobs. But he took a few deeps breaths, "have been my salvation. You have been the light in my unending, unhappy darkness."

Christine's eyebrows furrowed with sorrow and concern, she took a sharp step forward and took Erik's hand in hers, "You have been robbed of kindness. You have been showed only the evils of this world. But still you are a good man, Erik. I see it in your eyes. In your music. You have made the shattered part of my soul whole again, Erik – in your music." Her heart was beating fast now, and she could feel a tear roll down her cheek, "you have been my Angel, Erik. I… I cannot love you now… but, Erik, I need you now. You… are my Angel."

Erik looked down, "You… must go now."

"Yes," Christine said softly, "I have rehearsal for my performance tomorrow night. I suppose I have you to thank for that."

"No," Erik whispered, "It was all you."

"Of me!"

Christine finished the song with her loud, beautifully operatic voice. She was standing on the stage in costume during rehearsals, singing the song, but think only over Erik. She hardly heard the wave of applause that came for her after the final note ended. Her mind was whirling. Did she love him? Could she? Still… when he touched her, didn't she feel a warm sensation? Didn't he make her heart beat faster, make her crave his touch, his voice, his words?

But then, he was the Phantom. He was the man she had lived in fear of for ten years. He had terrorized the Opera, he home. He had deceived her.

Christine stepped back off the stage, and ran down the hall, ignoring Marie Giry calling her name behind her to come back. She didn't stop running until she reached the chapel. She needed to think all of this through.

Meg Giry watched Christine run off stage. She heard her mother calling, "Christine! Come back! You are not done rehearsing! Christine!" But she didn't move a muscle. The only thought that kept recurring in her mind was: she saw him.

She had watched them. Heard how he spoke to her. Heard how he gave her praise and love.

He never said those things to her.

She knew Erik. She had known Erik since she was a child. Her mother had told her all about how he was the Phantom, but how she would be protected because Erik was indebted to Marie. She never knew why. But what she hadn't known was that Erik had pretended to be the Angel of Music that Christine had always said her father would send to her.

She snapped back to reality when Marie snapped at the people standing onstage, "Rehearsals are over. Go back to your dressing rooms."
Meg moved quickly, not going towards the chorus girls' room, but Christine dressing room. She opened the door a slipped in, knowing Christine wouldn't be there. She went over to the mirror and slid it open, and then began making her way down the cobweb-filled, dim corridor, then down the windy steps, and finally to the lake.

Soon, she reached the brass gates, and stepped out of the boat into the knee-high, frigid, murky water. She looked through the gate and looked around the lair, not seeing Erik. But she heard his music box, the one he loved so dearly. She called out, her voice gentle, "Erik?"

The music stopped instantly. And she heard shuffling about from a place she could quite see from where she stood; and then she saw him. His hair jet-black and combed back, his eyes bright, contrasting against his clean, bright, white half-mask that was placed on the right side of his face. "Meg…" Erik said, almost as if he didn't believe she was there. "What are you doing here?"

Meg smiled sweetly, "I came to see a friend."

Erik nodded shortly, and he pulled the metal lever, sending the gate to its squeaky ascent. Meg stepped in, still shivering a bit from the water. And she realized she was still in the short, tight costume she had for rehearsals. She looked around the lair. She had memorized every inch of it, and now she stood, soaking in its beauty. "I haven't been here in so long."

Erik replied, "A good many months."

Meg's voice changed a bit, in a way Erik could not quite recognize, "I have missed seeing you, Erik."

"And I you, Meg."

Meg could not help but smile, "And have you been working on your Opera? 'Don Juan Triumphant'?"

Erik snorted, "Hardly. I cannot seem to write a song for Don Juan to sing to one another."

"Perhaps I could assist?" Meg offered.

Erik only shrugged, gesturing for Meg to come to his organ, where all his works and pieces were stacked. He handed her one piece, "I have written all the music, you see. But lyrics… I cannot seem to find the right words for Don Juan to say to her. Nor can I figure a title for it."

Meg studied the piece for a moment, "This is wonderful."

"If only I could finish it," Erik retorted.

"Call it…" Meg paused, "The Point of No Return."

Erik looked at her sideways, "How did – "

"You have come here… in pursuit of your deepest urge… in pursuit…" Meg bit her lip, thinking for a moment, "of that wish, which 'till now… has been silent… silent…"

She handed the paper back to Erik, and he stared at her in amazement, "Meg… that is wonderful. I…"

"Your welcome," Meg said in a small voice.

Erik put the paper on his desk, and began to write. After a few long, silent moments, he looked up at Meg, grinning. And he began to sing what he had written. "I have brought you… that our passions may fuse and merge…

In your mind, you've already succumbed to me… dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me…

Now you are here with me, no second thoughts… you've decided… decided…"

Meg grinned, "It's perfect, Erik!" She thought, and then gestured for Erik to move over, and began to jot a few words down, singing as she did: "past… the point of no return… no backwards glances… Our games of make belief are at an end…"

Meg closed her eyes, and stopped singing. Though the song played in her mind, over and over again. And she saw Erik holding her body close to his, his arms around her. Caressing her, loving her… She opened her eyes and she heard the sound of Erik's pen scratching on the parchment. And her heart broke in two. He was smiling; he didn't know how she felt. How she needed him. Yearned for him. For years now she had felt this. Her heart quickened when he looked up at her and said, "Thank you, Meg. It's so wonderful to know I have a friend such as you."
Meg forced a smile, but when he turned back to the paper, she felt a tear cascade down the side of her face. A friend. Damn it, why didn't he see her?! Why was Christine so perfect? So beautiful, so talented. Just so damned perfect!

Erik grinned down at the paper. He smiled contently, at his almost finished aria. And especially, at having a friend. He had seen little Meg Giry grow up from just a child. At first, he never much liked the girl. But now she was kind and sweet, and made him feel safe. She was a friend. He almost laughed as he thought the words. A friend!

Meg wiped the tears from her eyes violently, though they kept coming as she realized one thing: Christine was his Amnita. She was whom he wrote about now. He loved her. She stood quickly, pushing the stool she sat on away as if it had been a snake. Erik looked up at Meg questioningly, and she said, "Mother will be waiting for me. I must go."

Erik nodded, "Very well. Thank you, Meg."

Meg gave him a short smile, "I will come back soon."

Hours Later

(in Christine's dressing room)

Christine heard a soft knocking on her door. She stood from the stool she sat on in front of the mirror, where she had been watching her reflection. She was still dressed in costume, from the extravagant diamond earrings hanging from her lobes to the pure white shoes on her feet. She felt her hair shift its weight and swish loosely from side to side as she walked. She pulled open the door, to see a man staring back at her, grinning.

She looked at him for a moment. His clear, bright blue eyes; shoulder-length light brown hair. He was only a feet inches taller than Christine, not towering over her like Erik had been. "Yes?" She asked, but even as she did so she instantly recognized the man, and she felt a smile spring to her lips, "Raoul!"

The man grinned, "I was hoping you would remember! Christine, how many years has it been?"

"At least ten," Christine agreed, embracing Raoul quickly and then moving aside, gesturing for him to enter the dressing room.

He stepped in, "I heard you singing from my own room, just near the stage when I arrived. I was simply astounded, Christine. You always were so talented." He turned to her and smiled, sitting down on a chaise.

Christine sat across from him, her eyes briefly wandering to the mirror. She wondered if Erik was watching… "Yes," She turned back to him, "I was extremely lucky, I really owe it all to" Erik "Madame Giry. She is the one who told the new managers I was an option."

"Yes, I met Marie Giry briefly, and she spoke very highly of you. I understand it that you've been taking voice lessons?" Raoul inquired.

Christine's whole body tensed, "Y-yes I have." She said shortly, stuttering.

Raoul looked at her expectantly for a moment, but when she said nothing more, he asked, "And who has been teaching you?"

"I… His name is – "

"Never mind that, Christine. I did not come to see you to speak of you're voice lessons." Raoul interrupted. Christine felt a wave of relief wash over her and she nodded, a faint smile on her lips. "I wanted to see you, to remember the old memories, and perhaps to create new ones." Raoul said slowly, "I have missed you Christine. It has been far too long."

Christine nodded, "Raoul, if you will forgive me, why are you here? What business brings you to the Opera?"

"I am the new Patron. The Vicomte DeChagney." Raoul said, smiling.

"That is wonderful! So you shall be staying here?"

"For the present."

Christine smiled, looking up at the man she once new. Her childhood sweetheart. Perhaps…

"I just wanted to see you, Christine. You could not imagine how surprised I was to find that you were at the Opera, and I could not wait until morning to speak with you." Raoul said, taking Christine's hand in his. "It has been far too long."

Christine could not help but smile. Raoul still made her feel secure, as he had all those years ago. And now he was here, a Patron of the Opera. He had come to see her!

"Christine, after you're performance tomorrow, I would like to take you out for supper."

"I'd like that, Raoul," She replied softly.

He smiled, "Wonderful. Forgive me, if you were about to go to bed – "

"Oh, no. I wasn't."

A smile of satisfaction came to Raoul, "Good."

Raoul pulled Christine into another embrace, but this time it lasted much longer, and she closed her eyes.

Erik watched them from the other side of the mirror, seeing the content look on Christine's face as she embraced this man. The Vicomte DeChagney. He could do nothing but stare, his eyes burning.