Thank you for the support, friends! I loved the reviews for the last chapter!

This one was fun to write...

I'll leave it at that.

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.

Christine

When I turned back he was gone. I smiled to myself and brought my fingers up to trace my lips... as if we had kissed. I could still feel his breath on my face; warm and inviting... tantalizing. I could have kissed him. I could have. But I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted him to have the confidence and assertion; I wanted him to be in control. He was always in control... except when we were intimate. I wanted to test him... and then when he told me that he couldn't kiss me I could not help but play with him a little. Truthfully I could not see the harm in sharing one kiss with our stolen moment but he was doing everything he could to resist such an urge. I enjoyed the fact that I had power over him in some way; enjoyed how I was able to make him feel. He could do the same to me... when he wanted.

When Meg approached I was still locked in that moment with Erik. I knew that he would keep to his promise and see me that very night and so I was not worried when he suddenly disappeared. In truth I was surprised to see him at all given how worried he was. As soon as he was gone I longed for his presence. I had forgotten where I was; forgotten that I was in the middle of an opera performance. Perhaps this was what he was talking about when he spoke of losing himself...

And we had not even kissed...

How I longed to lose myself with him... Lose myself in a place where there were no time constraints, no danger... Nobody cared who or where we were... we could just be...

But something like that could not happen...

"Christine... what are you doing here? We must get changed for the next..."

Meg looked at me, her brows knitted together quizzically.

"What are you doing?" She repeated. I realized that I was simply facing a wall... not particularly looking at anything. It must have seemed quite strange indeed.

"I... I was..."

Meg's eyes widened excitedly as the realization dawned on her.

"You were with him weren't you?"

"What..? Who?"

"Christine... I have not forgotten what you told me. You went missing last night too. Maman was very worried about you. As was I. And... when I saw you this morning you seemed different; you seemed like your old self again. I didn't want to say anything... I thought it may have been Raoul?"

"Raoul? No!"

"I know." She smiled. "This was how you were acting before... when you told me that..." She cast her eyes down and moved closer to me. "Do you think it wise though? To be spending time with him when... he did what you said he did?"

"He isn't a bad person, Meg. He would never hurt me..."

Meg smiled.

"Come on, we need to get changed! Tell me on the way!"

"I'm sorry Meg." I began as she took my arm in hers and we hurried toward the change rooms. "I had meant to tell you everything but it all resolved itself last night... and it happened so fast..."

"That's alright! Does this mean that he will be escorting you to the ball?"

The ball. Of course... the Masquerade Ball. Was it that time of year already?

"Well... I..." Of course he could not escort me to the ball. What was Meg thinking? He was the Opera Ghost... but of course... it was a Masquerade. If there was any event he could attend it would be this one. It would be lovely. I did not want to be escorted by anyone else... It was just a matter of asking him. No doubt he knew it was approaching; he knew all that transpired beneath his roof. But then... why had he not asked me? My stomach sank. Perhaps now that he had my affections... he did not want them?

"I... I would like to but... I don't know that it would be wise."

"Oh, why not? It is a Bal Masque, is it not? He could be disguised... It is said that he wears a mask anyway... is this true?"

"Yes... its true but..."

But Raoul has already seen it.

I could think of a million and one reasons not to mention the ball to Erik... but in spite of those protestations I found myself wanting to ask him; wanting to go with him... wanting to appear at the top of the grand escalier on his arm. My selfishness outweighed my good sense.

I would ask him...

"Tell me what he is like! I want to know everything!" She continued excitedly, pulling me closer as we rushed through the wings of the stage; past bewildered stage hands and miscellaneous props.

"Ah... where do I start?" I smiled. Erik was such a complex person. He had so many aspects to him... and many more I was yet to learn. He was so gentle and chivalrous, attentive and caring... and I could not help but blush when I thought of the physical attributes I should not have seen... His chest... His arms... Living in a theater had made me somewhat impervious to shock when it came to the male anatomy but this was different... They had been more than pleasing to the eye and the fact that I should not have seen them made it all the more intriguing. Then I thought of his face... what I could see of it I thought to be uncommonly handsome... but what of the other half? What of the mask that he would not speak of?

I would find out soon enough...

"Well Christine?" Meg pressed. It was then that I realized I had not been speaking aloud; merely lost in my own thoughts once more. How could I voice what had just gone through my head? I felt my cheeks flush with warmth at the mere thought of it.

"Sorry..." I stammered. "Well... he..."

"Girls!" I turned to the source of the voice to see Madame Giry rushing towards us, skirt in hand and a stern look on her face. "What are you two doing? You must change!"

Erik

That night I waited until it was quite late to see Christine. I hadn't told her when to expect me but even so I felt the need to reprimand myself for not making solid plans with her. It seemed terribly presumptuous and informal of me simply to call on her when I saw fit but it was the way it had to be... at least for a while and I think that she understood that. After our rendezvous in the wings of the stage I made my way back down to my home; always in the shadows. Ever vigilant... ever invisible; ever the Phantom. This time called for it more than ever. Ordinarily I would not mind so much... but if I were caught now everything I had with Christine would be taken from me. I knew very well that if caught I would be hanged. There was little chance of a trial for someone like me... and I was not ready to meet my end at the gallows. Not yet. I had so much more living to do; so much more to experience with her before I met my end.

On my way down I caught sight of Raoul speaking with the Gendarmerie. He was determined...

But he would never find what he was looking for.

Once in my home I sat down at my organ as I usually did and began to tinker with the keys absentmindedly as I thought of a way to see her. I gazed down at the book I had given her; sitting on my writing desk ready for her.

Scandinavian Folk Lore

I smiled as I remembered her face upon seeing the book. Her father had brought her so much happiness...

Her father...

The chapel...

That was it. Christine always visited the chapel after dinner. I would have to be careful as always but no one else usually visited the chapel save for four or five of the chorus girls and they were already frightened of me... or at least the idea of me; something that always proved useful.

The hours seemed to stretch on. How had spent years in solitude with nothing but my own company and interests to occupy myself? I had created for myself a world of magic and art and music... the perfect world that simply did not exist above. I had done it... and I was doing it. The very idea of it still filled me with comfort and joy... only now I wished for someone else to accompany me on my island of dreams. Only one other person... Now all I seemed to do was fill the time between seeing Christine and if I could spend a few hours without completely and utterly dwelling on the idea of her, the afternoon was a success.

What had I become?

With all of my hobbies I already had more than enough activities to fill my time... it was just...

Her...

Finally it was time to head to the chapel. After checking myself in the mirror once, albeit reluctantly I made my way up...

The hallways leading to chapel were dark as they always were, but it was Winter and the sun had long but set. The only light visible was provided by the single candle, presumably lit by Christine and sitting just above a picture of her father. And just as I had hoped, sitting in front of the candle was Christine... the flame licked at her skin gently and for a few moments I was transfixed... unable to speak.

I cleared my throat.

"Good evening, Mademoiselle..." I spoke softly.

She spun around, eyes wide. Of course, she could not see in the darkness as I could. How selfish of me.

"It is me." I said with a smirk, thankfully not visible to her.

"I know." She said, smiling and turning around.

"And how is that?" I asked, walking closer to her.

"I've been hearing your voice for a long time now, Erik."

I smiled. Of course she had...

"You still come here every night..." I said.

"Yes. It is the only place I know where to find him..." She replied wistfully. "And... now that I know that... he didn't send me an angel... I find myself drifting away from him."

"I'm so sorry, Christine."

"I know." She said. "You don't have to keep saying it... Perhaps it was time to grow up anyway."

I knelt down next to her in the darkness.

"Never let anyone convince you that you have to do anything you don't want to... You don't have to grow up just because people say that you must. I had to grow up before my time and... I never had a real childhood." I stopped myself before I digressed too much. "What I mean is... you can be whoever you want to be. It does not matter to me."

She touched my face gently. Evidently now that I was kneeling down next to her she was able to see me as clearly as I could see her.

"Thank you." She said softly. "But... it isn't about other people. I think that... you did come to me for a reason. Perhaps you came to me and... revealed yourself to me because somehow I needed you to. It was time to let him go..." A tear slid down her porcelain face. "I wish to go to the cemetery soon... to visit him; say my goodbyes. Will you... come with me?"

"Of course, Mon Ange. Whatever you need from me I will give to you." I was honored that she would ask me at all given everything.

Christine looked back to her father's picture.

"I think that he would have liked you... he was a musician, you know."

"Yes..." I said, still staring at her. I smiled and held her hand in my own. "You told me."

"Yes..." She said, hardly a response to me... more to herself. It seemed that she was entranced by her father; by the flickering light above his picture. I however was entranced by her. I had never been religious. Lighting candles and praying to the night sky seemed trivial in light of the life I had lived...

But she was my redemption. In my eyes, Christine was everything good in the world and she had saved me in more ways than one.

"Shall we go?" I offered softly. She nodded silently. I stood up and dusted my pants before offering her my hand.

As soon as we had exited the chapel I felt her tug me backward.

"What is it?" Immediately I feared she had seen or heard something...

She pulled me closer with a smile.

"You owe me a kiss." She cooed. Regretfully I let out a nervous laugh at the word but before I could condemn myself for such a juvenile action she had pulled my face down towards hers and captured my lips with her own. Immediately I wrapped my arms around her and closed my eyes. God, I loved her. How I had waited to experience such a thing once more. But it was still not safe. It would have to wait until my home...

"Stop..." I mumbled against her mouth.

"Why..." She replied.

"Not here." I pulled away but I made no effort to stop. I don't think I would have had it not been for the voices heard behind us; only drunken chorus members but people all the same. She pulled away with a quiet laugh and I found myself laughing along. I felt so silly... but I was enjoying it. My heart swelled with giddy happiness as I rushed her away as if it were all a childish game of hide and seek. At that moment were just like any of the other couples seen enjoying each other in the corners of the Opera corridors...

Weren't we?

Once down in my home I removed my cape and helped her out of the boat.

"Have you eaten?" I offered. I could not believe how relaxed I felt; not myself at all. I felt... normal. "I could prepare you something? I haven't had the chance to purchase much but I have some bread if you are hungry."

"I'm fine." She smiled. "Thank you." She looked around nervously. Why was she quiet? Had I done something wrong between the chapel and now? Had she changed her mind?

"What's wrong?" I questioned, slightly crestfallen. "Have you... changed your mind about tonight?"

"No, no! Not at all!"

"We... can do another night. If you'd like." It would disappoint me greatly if she agreed but I had to give her the option. It was my home... but I wanted her to feel as comfortable as if it were hers. Perhaps one day it would be?

"No... really." She walked up to me and wrapped her arms around my neck. "It isn't that at all." It couldn't be anything terrible if she was still willing to touch me. I relaxed slightly and placed my hands on her waist.

"What is it, Mon Ange?" I asked, staring down at her. She was so beautiful...

"Well... I wish to ask something of you... only I don't know quite how to ask it." Was she blushing?

"You know that I am powerless before your requests, Christine. What is it that you want of me? It shall be yours."

"Alright..." She said hesitantly. I could tell that she was struggling with whatever she needed to ask me and it only served to make me more curious. "Are you free this Saturday evening?"

At this I laughed audibly.

"No, I am afraid not. I am afraid I have already committed myself to a number of other engagements."

She stared at me then, apparently not quite seeing my humor. I laughed again.

"Of course I am free." I joked. At that she seemed to smile. Then it occurred to me. This Saturday was New Years Eve; The Masquerade Ball. She was going to ask me to take her to the Masquerade Ball. How was I to tell her that I was already attending? During the endlessly torturous weeks without Christine I had begun writing my Opera. Originally I had planned to coerce the company to perform said Opera with Christine as the lead role. The Opera was to be an ode to Christine and I. It expressed how I felt about her; everything I could not say... I had even played with the idea of casting myself as the leading male; something that could never be possible. At the Ball I would present the work to the managers along with instructions as to how it would play out. Originally I had formulated this plan in the depths of despair and I will admit that I was not of sound mind at the time. Even so the idea to perform it had never left me; Christine would still be cast in the leading role and it would still serve to express to Christine all that I felt for her. But my plan could not possibly work with Christine in my presence. I had official Opera Ghost business to attend to and I needed to keep that part of my life separate to her...

I treasured the sentiment, of course... no one had ever bestowed on me such a gift but I had to refuse.

"Well... I was wondering whether you might..." She bit her lip. "...whether you would consider... escorting me to the Bal Masque?"

Immediately after speaking she looked up at me; desperate for an answer, desperate for anything that would ease the awkward atmosphere she felt she had created. It was awkward, but it had nothing to do with her.

I sighed and slowly pulled her hands down from my neck.

"Christine..."

"You don't wish to go?"

"No it... It isn't that..."

"It is that. I know... what you might be thinking." She took my hand in hers. "...but... it's a Masquerade! You... won't be seen. For once we can be out together and no one will care."

"Out? What do you mean by that?" I pulled my hand from hers. "I know that this is not ideal for courting Christine but it's all I have. If you wish to be out with someone then perhaps you should speak to your boy." She looked at me icily and immediately I regretted my words.

"That was uncalled for." She said plainly.

"I know. I know. It's just that I know that this isn't good enough for you." I waved my hand in gesture to my home. "That I am not good enough for you and sometimes when you say things it really makes me think that you... want to change your mind. I constantly have doubts..."

"I know." She said. She took my hand again. "I know that you want to escort me."

"I want nothing more."

"Then just do it!"

"I cannot!"

"Why?" She pressed, pulling at my hand like a petulant child.

"I... have Opera Ghost business to attend to." I knew that she wouldn't want to hear that but it was the truth.

"...What does that mean?" She eyed me suspiciously.

"I have to present the managers with something to perform; an Opera." I pointed to the Organ. "The one you saw me composing when you were last here. The company is to perform it and I have certain instructions I wish to deliver with it. I have to reveal myself that night. I have to stand before the managers for the first time... before everyone for the first time and if they remember seeing you with me... it could be a great danger to both of us. I'm sorry, Christine. I really am."

"Well... why is this Opera so important? Is it more important than me?"

"Nothing is more important than you but... this Opera is important to me. And I have been gone too long, and so it has to be done in person. I have to know that they still fear me."

"Fear you? Why do they have to fear you?"

"It is the only way, Christine." Why didn't she understand? The world had to fear me. When I was a child I swore that I would feel no fear; that I would inflict it on others. It was how I had gotten by... Kindness did not get me things; fear did.

"The only way for what? Why can't you just leave the Opera Ghost behind, Erik? It isn't who you are anymore."

"It is, though!" Christine jumped. I hadn't meant to raise my voice. The last thing I wanted to do was frighten her... "I'm sorry." I pulled her into an embrace. "It... has to be sometimes. As long as I am here... it has to be."

She took a deep breath.

"Well... perhaps... we could leave together? After your Opera is performed?" What could she possibly mean?

"...Leave?"

"Yes..." She said, looking up at me. "We could... leave together." Where would we go? I hadn't left the Opera in years.

"You would... do that for me?" I asked sincerely.

"I would do that with you." She said, holding me tightly. "Please, Erik. Escort me to the Ball? I would want no one else."

"I just don't see how it could work." She looked down and nodded.

But I knew that she hadn't given up... I had at least delayed the conversation and I wanted to celebrate this small triumph but I could see another question on her lips. I knew what this one would be and while I was dreading it... I had told her that I would address it and I was nothing if not a man of my word.

"So... earlier today... you said that you would..."

"You wish to know about the mask." I said sternly.

"I... I'm sorry, it's just that you said..."

"I know. I'm not angry. You wish to know. Understandably so... Come. Let us sit down. Would you like some wine?" I led her over to the piano bench.

"...Just a glass." She answered apprehensively.

"Alright. One moment." I stood up and took a deep breath. When I returned she would ask me. When I returned I would have to explain myself. I loosened my cravat; suddenly finding my surroundings to be increasingly stuffy. "I trust that red is alright?" I called.

"Whatever you suggest." She said faintly. "I told you, I don't often drink wine."

I returned with a new bottle and two glasses. After taking a sip and another deep breath I sat down next to her on my bench and spoke.

"Alright. Ask me."

She looked at me; a shocked expression upon her face. Almost as if she hadn't expected me to address it so quickly.

"I... alright." I saw that she was taking a deep breath herself. What did she have to e nervous about?

"It is alright, Christine." I reassured her. "Just ask me." She looked down before speaking.

"Why do you wear the mask?"

"I wear it because I... I wish to hide myself." I answered craftily.

"But why?" Who was I trying to fool? I had to tell her. I took another sip of wine.

"I wear a mask because... I... was born with a deformity." I answered simply.

I was surprised when she nodded in understanding.

"And so you feel the need to wear something to cover it?"

I laughed cynically.

"I don't feel any need. It is world who sees the need to hide my ugliness. The world does not want to see, Christine. Please do not ask me to divulge anything else just yet... I am not ready to revisit my past."

"I wish that you would show me..." She whispered.

"I thought that you would ask me that. Please know that I would give you anything you asked for. Anything else..."

"You will not show me."

"Please try to understand." I began. "It is hard for me. In the past I have been... made to show my face... and the reactions were always the same..."

"Made?"

"That is all I will say on that."

"Erik, I don't want to ask something of you that you don't feel comfortable giving. But... please don't keep this from me. I want us to start anew; to tell one another everything. To feel completely comfortable in the presence of one another..."

"If that is what you seek, Christine. I may never make you happy. I have secrets that... I have not divulged to anyone and truthfully I don't know that I ever will. I do not mean to hurt you by saying this and please know that I would never keep something from you that would harm you; it is quite the opposite." Christine listened attentively. "I keep things from you because some things should not be heard; repeated, relived. It would kill me to know that... saying this would prevent you from seeing me any further but you need to know this now. I will never be... normal. I will never be perfect. I am broken and as much as you redeem me just by being the wondrous person you are... I will always be broken because of the life I have lived." She looked at me and spoke the three words that threatened to break me every time I heard them.

"I love you." She said. She reached up and touched the left side of my face. I held her hand and leaned into it.

"God, I love you." I said; my voice quavering with emotion. I loved her for who she was... and I loved her for loving me.

"Let me... try to fix you." She said. Those words almost made it seem possible. With that she reached up with both hands and ever so slowly removed my mask...

I did not stop her; I did not even protest. I was frozen where I was; in awe at her healing words; her healing hands. It was almost as if with her I was handsome. Perhaps there was no deformity at all? Perhaps it had all been a terrible nightmare and this was my real life?

My eyes were closed...

They did not open until I felt her small, soft hands touching the right side of my face; the side that had not been touched by another living soul; the side that predetermined my life before I had taken my first breath, the side that had made me who I was. To my utter surprise her fingers were exploring the contours of my horrid face; caressing the planes, the irregularities that made me so... unique...

...And it felt glorious.

I searched her face for a reaction; searched her eyes for fear, disgust... her eyes had filled with tears but she was smiling. Perhaps it was pity but I did not care.

She was smiling.

She was not laughing.

She was not screaming.

She was not running.

She was smiling.

This gave me the confidence I needed to reveal everything... Slowly I reached up and pulled the black wig from atop my head. It fell to the ground. Christine simply watched as my defenses crumbled around me. Her expression did not change. She reached up and stroked my hair; copper in hue, not black as she had thought... as I had almost come to believe.

"You... are beautiful." She said softly.

At these words I choked a sob. Pathetic... but I did not have a care. I brought my hand to her face; un-gloved I was permitted to revel in her warmth as she had presumably reveled in mine. A tear escaped my eye and I had to choke back another sob when she reached up to wipe it.

"Kiss me, Erik." She repeated. Unlike when she had said it to me, hidden in the wings of the stage I needed no coercion. Those words were all I needed. I captured her mouth hungrily. Our kiss deepened as I pulled her onto my lap. The pipe organ behind me sounded loudly as I was pushed onto the keys. We both jumped slightly and laughed at ourselves before continuing the kiss. Deciding that neither of us cared to experience such a surprise again I whisked her up and carried her to her bedroom. I lay her down on the bed as I had done on her first night with me. Only this time she captured my mouth once more and pulled me down onto the bed. Again we laughed as I fell quite clumsily on top of her.

She pushed me onto my back and I did not care to protest. Her deft fingers removed my cravat and within seconds I felt something unlike anything I had ever experienced; her perfect lips placing kisses on my neck. She began just behind my ear. Her warm breath tickled the skin there and I felt her smile against me as I suppressed a chuckle. It was maddeningly pleasurable. She pushed my jacket off my shoulders as her lips moved down my neck. I could not move. I wanted to kiss her in return; bestow the same pleasure on her but I could not... I felt her hands working at my waistcoat as her lips reached my collarbone.

Soon, my waistcoat had met the same fate as my jacket; discarded on the floor of my home and soon my shirt would meet the same end. In truth, I did not care. Never in my life had I had such little regard for my own clothing...

Well..? ;)