Erik's POV

The snow refused to stop falling. For days and weeks after Valentine's Day, all it did was snow. When I couldn't bear to be in the house any longer, I ventured out to my park's office to look over applications and shovel snow. Christine had spent countless nights within my bed, fleeing her own room in the middle of the night due to her nightmares. Some nights I was awake when she crawled beneath the blankets with me, and other nights, I wouldn't notice until I woke in the morning. One would think that I would have spent countless nights making love to Christine, when instead, she was only crawling in my bed for comfort…which was still a lovely thing.

"Here again, I see," I murmured one morning after waking and finding Christine curled up beside me. It was snowing again, which was why I plopped down beside her once I noticed the white flakes hitting my window.

"I wish there was something I could take to help me sleep," she cried, snuggling into my chest.

"Sadly, Christine, there isn't anything you can take. The nightmares will eventually go away. They did when I had them. I get one every once in a while, but it's nowhere as bad as they once were."

"I know that they're just dreams, Erik, but somehow I only feel comfortable with you."

"Well, if you continue this, I shall simply have to move you up here."

"Really?"

"Christine, enough. You're lucky that Gustave hasn't started asking about this. The last thing that he needs is to wonder why his mother has been sleeping in the same bed as a strange man who isn't his father."

"He has noticed that I've been coming up here every night. But, he hasn't asked me yet."

"And when he does, I suggest you tell him that you've been having terrible nightmares."

"I'm cold, Erik…"

I wrapped more blankets around Christine's body and snuggled closer to her.

"I hate the winter."

"Well, Christine, so do I. It's nearly March now, ange… Spring is a short time away. Soon the flowers will be blooming and the sun will be back."

"Well, it can't come fast enough."

"Be as it may," I said, standing to my feet. "I have to shovel snow out of my park."

Christine reached out and grabbed a hold of my robe, pulling me back into bed.

"Christine, enough…"

"I don't want you to leave," she whined. "I'm warm and comfortable."

"Christine…"

"Please, Erik."

I sighed and crawled back into bed with Christine, closing my eyes once again.

"Erik, do you want to do something tonight?"

"Tonight?"

She nodded. "Yes… I did like when we danced a few weeks ago, even though it only lasted a few moments."

"I…I don't remember that," I faltered. "I don't remember dancing with you."

Christine sighed and buried her head into my chest.

"Please, Erik? You never take me out… We never do anything with one another."

"Maybe later, Christine."

After placing on my shirt, I stood in front of the mirror and dressed.

"I have a few things that need to be done at my office today. I will return later…"

"Erik, it's snowing really hard."

"I'll be all right. You should be more concerned about your voice, Christine. The doctor said that you need to rest it. So, rest and I shall be back later."

After donning my jacket, I multitasked by buttoning it up and hurrying down the stairs.

"Mr. Erik?"

I spun around to find Gustave rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Where are you going?"

"To work," I said. "I will be back later."

After rustling his locks, I made my way towards the streets, walking alone to my office to work. Deciding to shovel first, I pulled the snow shovel out of my Phantasma shed and began to do so, my shoulders aching with every thrust I cast into the heavy substance. My body shivered as newly fallen snow landed upon my broad shoulders. It may have taken me a few hours to clear my walkway, but when I was finished, I entered my office and stripped down to my shirt. My office wasn't much warmer, but I did manage to throw a log onto the small hearth that was placed on the other side of the room. My hands quivered from the cold as I began to write down my choices of employees that I would soon interview. I knew that Mr. Tilyou wouldn't appreciate me taking away his workers, but something had to be done. This would be my revenge…I wasn't sure what time I heard someone knocking at my door, but I rose and approached it, pulling it open to find Gustave standing there with a thermos of some sort in hand.

"Boy, you're going to catch your death out there," I scolded, pulling him through the doorway. "What are you doing here?"

"Mama made some tea," he said. "And she asked me to bring you some."

I took the hot thermos out of the boy's hand and placed it on my desk.

"Thank you," I said, turning to take a seat at my desk once again.

"Mr. Erik, it's cold in here."

"I know," I said. "But it's nowhere as cold as it is outside."

"It's getting dark," Gustave began. "Mama had asked me to ask you what time you would be coming home?"

"When my work is finished," I reminded him. "Now, run along home before it gets too dark to see. It's dangerous at night, especially with the streets being covered in ice."

"Could you read me a bedtime story later, Mr. Erik?"

"Of course, Gustave. Anyway, tell your mother that I shall be home as soon as I'm finished writing out my interviews."

"Yes, Mr. Erik."

"And thank her for the tea…"

When the child was gone, I continued writing and took a sip from the thermos, the warm liquid instantly warming my insides. Though, at one point, my eyes became so heavy, that I couldn't hold them open any longer and nodded off, causing my hand to lose balance of the thermos and having it spill its contents onto my work. As soon as the hot liquid made contact with my flesh, I woke and cursed beneath my breath.

"Wonderful," I moaned, heading towards the door. The snow had finally stopped falling and I was thankful, for it made my short walk to the utility closet a little easier. When I had constructed Phantasma, I had made sure to have a utility closet built across from my office. It's where I kept all of my towels and supplies I needed in order to work. I opened the dark shed and fumbled for the light, nearly tripping over a few boxes as I did so. When I finally found a few towels, I carried them back to my office to wipe up the liquid that was spilled all over my desk.

I believe it's time for me to head home," I murmured to myself. "Work simply cannot be work when one is too tired to keep his eyes open."

I was just about finished cleaning up, when I heard some commotion coming from the back of my office. Curious, I lifted my head and gazed towards the back section that was closed off by French doors. The commotion sounded like something had fallen. Which did seem correct, seeing that I had boxes and crates stacked on one another…blue prints and music notes were all that were boxed up, but that didn't mean that they couldn't tumble over.

"Great," I moved to the set of French doors and headed inside. The room was dark, but there didn't seem to be any damage done. Curious, I headed deeper into the room and checked the back boxes, relieved that there were no knocked over boxes. After locking up my French doors, I placed on my jacket and grabbed my leather bag I carried my work around in, placing the leather strap over my shoulder. With the bag dangling at my waist, I locked up and headed back out into the snow.

I approached the gates of Phantasma and was about to reach for the latch, when all of a sudden, I felt a hand clasp over my mouth, which caused me to reach for the hand. Though, as soon as I did so, I felt something sharp against my neck, that sharpness causing extreme agony as it cut all the way across my throat. Only when my throat was gushing blood did the person toss me to the ground. Now, when I was in Persia, men had their throats slit all the time… Most of them died because they panicked, but I kept calm, grasping my throat and holding the wound closed. My mind was racing, but I tried to spot who had cut my throat. I couldn't see much, for the man was dressed in a dark cloak and hat. Blood spilled onto the ground, turning the white snow crimson red. It was getting extremely hard to breathe, which was why I lied still.

When I heard footsteps once again, I pressed my eyes closed, for I believed that it was the man returning to finish me off. All I could taste in my mouth was blood, my hands frostbitten and covered in the sticky substance.

"Mr. Erik?"

When I heard the boy's voice from a short distance away, I used all the energy I had to turn my head and spot the boy standing at my office. It was obvious that he hadn't gone home like I had told him to do, for he was covered in snow. He most likely went and built a snowman with the snow I had shoveled off my walkway. He was knocking on my office door, most likely wanting me to walk him home. I knew I wasn't going to be able to walk myself home, which was why I needed to get his attention. Though, I couldn't speak, for I couldn't even open my mouth. I knew I had to make some sort of noise, and yes, it was going to hurt, but this was the means between life and death. So, as loudly as I could, I groaned, the vibrations in my throat causing more blood to flow from my wound. Oh, I prayed that he heard me.

"Mr. Erik?"

I knew I had gotten his attention when I heard his uneasy voice. Soon, footsteps quickened, and then, he was at my side.

"Mr. Erik! Mr. Erik…"

The boy knelt at my side, his hand reaching out to touch my neck. I lightly groaned to warn him not to touch me. He must have noticed that I was shivering, for he pulled off his small jacket and placed it over my shoulders.

"I'm…I'm going to go get help. I'll be back, I promise… I'll…I'll get mama."

The boy ran away within a matter of minutes, leaving me in the cold with my throat continuing to fight against my hands. I was losing consciousness, especially when it was becoming hard to keep my eyes open. Yes, I wanted to sit there and think about why someone wanted to slash my throat, but in my heart, I already knew that it was Madame Giry who had most likely hired someone to do so. Jealousy was all that woman ever knew.

"Erik…"

When I heard Christine's voice I was past being strong. I couldn't open my eyes, nor could I bear to stay awake any longer. There must have been doctors with her, for I felt manly hands prying my own freezing hands away from my throat. I did not fight, nor did I open my eyes. I felt my shirt being pulled open, objects being applied to my frail chest.

"He's barely alive," I heard a strange voice state. "He's going to get hypothermia out here…"

Something soft was placed tightly around my neck, which, I guessed to be some sort of towel. Soon, I felt my chilled body being lifted and placed onto something hard.

"Erik," Christine's voice was soft as she interlaced her hand with my own. "Erik, don't leave me…"

But as quickly as I heard her voice, it began to fade, leaving me unconscious. There were moments during the next few hours that I regained consciousness. Once being when I arrived at what I assumed was the hospital. There were bright lights and hands pulling away at my clothes. I couldn't see much, for my vision was blurred, but I did see men in white coats moving around. Soon, I felt a needle against my arm, and I went under once again. The next time I opened my eyes, was a while later. My heart was pounding against my ears as I found myself lying on a table of some sort. Beside me, a tray containing a bloody needle and an uneven piece of thread lying there. The very sight of it had turned my stomach, for I knew that the doctors had used that very needle to stitch me up. When a man in a white coat approached my tableside, I passed out once again. I wasn't sure how long I had been asleep, but when I woke for the final time, I was no longer lying on a strange table. No, I was lying in a warm bed, something itchy and painful wrapped around my neck. Swallowing was unbearable and my head felt as though it weighed a ton. When I maneuvered my hand up to my neck, I felt a bandage tightly wrapped around it. To take away some of the pressure I was feeling, I attempted to pull it away from my flesh, when I felt a hand stop me.

"No, Erik…"

It was Christine! She was here…I forced my head to the side, noticing that she was sitting at my bedside, her eyes stained with tears. Her hand was still wrapped around my wrist tightly as she gently placed it back over my chest.

"You need to stay still," she cooed. "I know the bandages must be bothering you, and it may be unbearable, but it's the pressure that's keeping you alive."

I opened my mouth to speak, when she pressed her finger to my lips.

"Don't speak… The doctor said that you need to be silent or else it will disturb the stitches."

Curious and heartbroken, I lifted my hand to my neck once again, pressing my finger against the bandage that started at my right ear. From there, I lightly dragged my finger along the bandage, feeling a hideous and lumpy texture to the end. Only, it didn't end until I was right at the tip of my left earlobe. I choked back tears the moment I realized that my throat had been cut from ear to ear…I would forever be hideous in the eyes of the world, for there would be no mask cable of hiding such a hideous scar.

Ok, so this chapter was a bit depressing, but things will start to look up...maybe. On the brightside, now Christine can nurse the man back to health, which will result in lots of fluff! haha please review. The question is, who would do such a thing to poor Erik?

"Rest now, Erik…" Christine said, taking my hand and resting it at my side.

But how could one rest with a disfigurement so visible to the world? Those Giry's would pay with their lives for this.