Sorry for the delay! Im juggling music, work, a design internship and i just got an interview for another one and uni is starting this week! Things are crazy! Many thanks for the reviews, i got quite a few for the last chapter which was great! Its really interesting to hear where people think the story is going, and whether or not they like where it is going!

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber

Enjoy!

Raoul

Inspector Auguste's gaze shifted to the item in my hand and it did not move as he opened his door further and invited me inside. I had not been inside his office prior to this morning, and once there I was not particularly interested in my surroundings. They were as you would expect them to be; an Inspector's office… stark, austere… dimly lit…

"I am surprised to find you here this morning, Inspector." I commented as he closed the door behind me.

"Ah yes…" He began thoughtfully. "It is New Year's Day… It seems that I need constant reminding… At least… since my wife passed."

I nodded solemnly. I had heard news of the Inspector's wife not months ago and propriety told me to offer some words of consolation, but I said nothing. The inspector's gaze turned toward the mask in my hand and he licked his lips anxiously.

"Now tell me… what brings you here on such a morning?" He asked, his gaze never leaving the mask. I smiled.

"You told me that you could find nothing on the man in Mademoiselle Daae's dressing room. And I know that part of you did not believe my words…" The inspector motioned to speak but I held up my hand in protest. "I know that you did not. And I understand… how could you possibly believe what I was telling you? It seemed ridiculous." I gave a cynical chuckle before looking up at the man before me. "A man in a mask coming out of a mirror… preposterous… But now I have proof." I threw the mask haphazardly onto his desk before speaking again. "I have his mask."

The inspector gave a slight smirk before turning to face the object I had almost thrown at him.

"His mask?" He picked up the object and turned it over in his hands. I nodded.

"When did you find this?" He asked.

"I found it after the Bal Masque…. On the…."

"…After the Bal Masque." The Inspector repeated, his tone border lining on condescending.

"Yes… I found it on the roof after…"

"Monsieur…" He began, placing the object down on the desk before him and walking toward me. "You have found a mask after the Masquerade… how am I to take this as evidence…"

"Evidence of his existence! The Phantom!"

"With all due respect, le Vicomte. This could belong to anyone!"

"It could but it does not! Listen to me, Inspector. He appeared at the Bal. Appeared before the entire company… and Christine followed him. I found them on the roof and his mask had been discarded in the snow…" I cringed inwardly as I continued. "It looked as though they had been… their clothes were…"

"Monsieur…" He began again, his tone now decidedly patronising.

"Do you think that I would lie about this? Do you honestly believe that I would come here on this morning, prepared to lie to an Inspector such as yourself? What do you take me for?! Does my reputation not stand as evidence of my character? Of my hubris?"

"Of course it does but…"

"I found them together and that monster attacked me! He left me in the snow… but this morning… I found them… I found them together again… and I bested him. This time I left HIM."

"You what?"

"That is why I am here, Inspector. You must arrest him before he has a chance of getting away."

"What have you done, Vicomte?"

"I have wounded him. And she will try to help but she will not be able."

"You have wounded… Who have you wounded?" The inspector questioned, exasperated. "Have you attacked an innocent man..? What have you done?"

"Innocent! You are aware of his crimes!"

"I am aware of the crime committed, yes!"

"And he has committed them! Will you not come with me and arrest him? Bring him to retribution for what he has done?"

"Why did you not leave this in the hands of the authorities, Monsieur?"

"I DID! And you did nothing! Now do you wish to catch him or not?"

After a few seconds of what must have been silent deliberation, the Inspector gave a quick nod before summoning two of his men and ordering a few others to prepare horses.

Erik

Much of the carriage ride was a blur, my head was swimming and my eyelids were heavy. Thankfully though, the pain in my stomach was excruciating; this was a good sign. Harsh experience had taught me that if i could feel pain then i was not close to death. Months ago i would not have cared either way... but not now. Not now that the woman i loved cared for me in return and wished so dearly for me to live. If nothing else i would hold on for her. Every jolt sent daggers of pain through me and i was convinced that i had not stopped bleeding. This was not a burden i wished to bestow upon Christine but i had little choice in the matter and she seemed determined for me to live.

"Hold on, Erik!" Her voice called from somewhere ahead of me. I lacked the strength to respond. Part of me wondered whether or not i had actually heard her voice, but part of me; the most part used it as an anchor. She kept me conscious and she kept me present. Whether or not it was her voice as part of my creation, I used it to stay with her; to stay alive.

I loved Christine but I hated relying on anyone, as soon as I had been able to I stopped needing people. But without her I knew that I would surely die… The only thing I loathed more than having to depend upon her was the fact that I was not able to protect her. When her boy had landed the blow he had attempted to take her away and I would not have been able to stop him. Not at all. Now, I hated the boy for what he had done to me. Not the pain so much as the principle and the degradation of it all. And for what he had done to Christine by association. I could see her hurting. I could see her crying. And in spite of myself; my crippling self-doubt and my insecurities I was beginning to see that she actually did care for me, and that if something were to happen to me now, she would be quite devastated.

"Erik… are you awake?" She called behind her anxiously. "You must stay awake!" She turned around, reins in hand. I nodded weakly and waved dismissively. I was awake. My love for her was keeping me awake. My hate for the boy was keeping me lucid. The pain was keeping me alert. Who knew that there was a benefit to hate and discomfort?

Seemingly satisfied with my gesture she turned back around; worry deeply etched in the lines of her face. I hated that I was doing this to her…

After what seemed hours but what must have been mere minutes, the carriage came to a halt. I opened my eyes to see Christine scrambling towards me. I cringed as she shook me gently. After having closed my eyes briefly I found that I didn't want to move. I wanted to give in to the soundless darkness that was beckoning me. It was warm and welcoming and it would only take a few more minutes… maybe an hour…

"Erik!" She shook me again and pulled at the arm that wasn't wrapped around my waist.

"Are… are we here?" I asked sleepily.

"We are at the Opera…" She responded. "There is no one around… is there another way in?"

Another way…

Of course there is…

I could not focus on her question or what she was asking me to do…

"Another way…" I repeated.

"Another way inside!" She demanded, taking note of my decline and growing more desperate. "A side entrance, perhaps?!"

Entrance….

Side…

The Rue Scribe side…

"AH… on… the Rue Scribe side…"

"Alright well we have to hurry!" She jumped down beside me and pulled at my arm again. I yelled out as the movement caused my injury to scream. She gasped and released my arm directly.

"I'm so sorry!" She cried. I smiled at her weakly. I had not meant to discourage her at all but thankfully the pain had shaken me out of my sleep-like state.

"We… we need to go… before I cannot."

She nodded and took hold of my arm once more. With a pained grunt I managed to heave myself out of the carriage. I knew that this part would be exceedingly difficult. The Opera House was not small… and we were on the wrong side. Thankfully the streets were empty but I was completely vulnerable. What if we were spotted by the Police? By Raoul? We began the long, painful walk to the Rue Scribe side and many times the pain threatened to overcome me. I dearly wanted to give up; to give in but Christine continually urged me on. She took on much of my weight both physically and psychologically. When we reached our destination I gestured to a small grate on the façade; it led to the Chapel and eventually beneath the Opera. Once finally inside, she allowed me to rest against a wall while she closed the grate.

"I think that I should get help." She began as she walked back to me. "Perhaps you should stay here and I should fetch Madame Giry?"

"No…" I murmured. "No… It is too dangerous. We must go directly to my home."

"Erik… I don't know what to do! You… you are in so much pain and I don't know what to do…" To my horror she fell to the ground and began to weep.

"C-Christine…" It pained me to see this; almost as much as the slice through my stomach. "You… are s-so strong. Y-you do not even know… I wish that you could see yourself a-as I see you." With a grimace I pushed myself up against the chapel wall and held my stomach tightly. The pain was incredible and it had not lessened in the slightest. "Y-you are brave and… and resourceful in a ways that I could never be… and I trust you… I trust you with m-my life. We will make it to my home and once there, I will do the rest." Truthfully I had no idea how far I would make it. "One step at a time."

Christine looked up at me. I wanted nothing more than to wipe her tears, caress her porcelain skin… to hold her… But I could not. I could not and that was why she was crying.

"I-I hate to sound insensitive my dear… b-but we should move before my strength depletes a-any further."

And before I bleed on the chapel floor.

"Of course…" She said, wiping her tears and moving towards me.

I said strength. And that was true but it was taking all that I had not to scream out in agony with every movement that I made.

She held my face in her hands and placed a tender kiss upon my lips. At that moment I loved her more than I ever thought possible. I cannot say why. Perhaps it was the desperation in her kiss… perhaps not. I returned the kiss with what strength I had.

"Will you help me up?" I asked with a pained smile. She seemed thrilled with the fact that I was finally asking for and willing to accept her assistance.

"You needn't ask." She smiled, wiping her eyes again.

With great difficulty we made it down the stairs, she only allowed me to rest once we had reached the very edge of my lake; the boat docked, ready to take us the rest of the way. I cursed under my breath, but without such forceful motivation I knew that I would still be in the cemetery, likely bleeding or freezing to death.

"Almost there." She breathed after helping me into the boat. I lay back and closed my eyes, allowing myself to become lost in the temporary serenity of the natural reverb of the cavern and the water gently lapping against the side of the boat from our movement.

"Thank you, Christine." I said, my eyes still closed. "In all honestly, I doubted whether or not I would make it this far."

"I know you did…" She replied, her voice contrite. She looked down.

"You did this…" I said. "You, alone. You are so strong, Christine. My heart bleeds with happiness, knowing that you care this much for me."

She looked into my eyes and smiled for a few seconds, allowing herself a moment of indulgence before stepping into the boat herself and picking up the long pole I had previously used to push the boat toward my home.

"Alright." She began purposefully. "Now tell me how to move this thing…"

Christine

With each miss, each failed turn I looked down at Erik, lying in the boat with his eyes closed. How much longer did I have? With each passing second he was losing more blood, becoming paler and whatever happened it would be my fault. Willingly or not he had put his life in my hands.

"Hold on…" I spoke without looking at him. "You… you cannot die." I added, more a whisper.

"Yes…" He replied. It wasn't much of a response but at least he was acknowledging me.

The journey had been exhausting. I knew that there were other ways through which to enter Erik's home, for I had found one of them myself. But I trusted his judgement, regardless of how delirious he was. He had made the choice for us to come this way and I did not see need to question him. I never had. After what seemed like hours of painstakingly manoeuvring his boat through the twists and turns of the cellars we arrived at the entrance to his home, guarded by a portcullis. Usually he had been the one to open it but he was far from capable.

"Erik…" I called down, turning around to face him. "How do we get in?"

He didn't respond.

"Erik…" I shook the boat slightly. "Where is the lever?!"

His eyes were still closed.

Closed… Eyes closed…

Immediately I crouched down in front of him, dropping the pole into the water in my haste.

"Wake up!" I demanded, practically climbing atop him and shaking him by the shoulders. "Erik! Wake up! You must wake up!"

To my relief he slowly opened his eyes.

"Christine…" He seemed surprised. "Are… we there?"

"My god!" I cried. I fell atop him and pulled him into an embrace, forgetting any sense of propriety and only minding his injuries when he yelled out. "I'm sorry!" I spoke into his chest. I looked up at him.

"You mustn't fall asleep! Do you understand! I thought you were gone! I thought you had left me!"

He smiled weakly at me, lifting his hand in order to gently trace my chin with his thumb. His hand was shaking as he did so, and it allowed me to recall the urgency of the situation and why we were there in the first place.

"I… I told you that I would not, remember?" He said softly.

Yes. Yes, he had.

Since I had carelessly dropped the pole for the boat, I was forced to exit and using my foot, feel around for it in the murky water. But in spite of his delirious state, Erik was able to direct me as to where it should be and what to do with it. Therefore thankfully it did not take long. I pushed the boat the rest of the way and once close to the shore I dragged him out and onto the floor of his home. His clothes were already wet from the snow and the blood… therefore I doubted it mattered. My aim was to tend to him as soon as possible and therefore I ignored his protestations as I heaved him across the cold stone and towards his bedchambers.

"Erik… you have to get up…" I breathed.

"I h-have n-nothing left, Christine… I cannot…"

"You can! I have not brought you all this way just for you to give up! You must get up! One more time! Just once more!"

He looked at me with pained eyes before attempting to stand. It took a few tries but with much encouragement we made it up the stairs and into the bedchambers I had slept in upon our first meeting. He collapsed upon the bed as soon as he reached it. He had wanted to reach his own bed but he hadn't the strength to make it there. I knew it and so did he.

"Alright." I began, out of breath. "See! I told you we would make it. One step at a time."

"Yes…" He managed as he closed his eyes. "You told me…"

I sat down beside him and stroked his face gently. He smiled to my touch but he was so pale and his skin was clammy.

"What do I do now?" I asked desperately. Now that I had him here I had no idea what to do in order to help him. I knew that I needed to stop the bleeding but the thought of using a needle and thread on his skin made my stomach lurch…

"I… I have a box for… occasions s-such as this. Y-you will find it in… in my bathroom."

Bathroom?

"…Where is that?"

He smirked slightly before responding and I could not help but smile at the thought that the Erik I knew and loved was still there amidst all that pain and confusion.

"M-my bedchambers…" He managed.

"Alright." I said dutifully. I bent down and placed a kiss on his forehead. "I'll return momentarily."

I found the box to which he had been referring. It was sitting neatly on a table just inside the door of his bathroom…

His bathroom…

Of course he had a bathroom. It was foolish and ignorant of me to think otherwise but even now, even after we had become so close and he; so real, it was hard to accept such domestic aspects of a man like him. I opened the box I was holding and frowned at what I saw. Some sort of liquid… I looked at the label; Carbolic Acid… I hadn't the faintest clue what it was but somehow I knew what it was for. I cringed as I sifted through the box; thread, gauze, needles… This was not going to be easy. Deciding that I had already dwelled upon it for far too long, I hurried back to Erik. When I found him he was attempting to struggle out of his clothing.

"Wait, wait!" I called as I ran up to him. "What are you doing!? You should have known I would have helped you with this?"

"I… I didn't want to be any more of… a b-burden…" He managed as his hands fumbled at the buttons on his waistcoat.

"You could have caused more bleeding, Erik!" I cried, swatting his hands away. "Stop! Let me!"

He rolled his eyes but lay back and allowed me to do the rest. I untied the tattered piece of clothing that had been holding the bleeding at bay… hopefully. Then I set to work on the buttons of his waistcoat; once a deep gold was now red. I peeled it back and cringed as my eyes were met with his shirt; completely red and plastered to his body. I watched as his chest rose and fell, every breath was visible, every inhalation. I could see every ounce of pain written in his quick, shallow breaths and I wanted nothing more than to give up, than to simply lie beside him and pretend that nothing had happened. But then nothing would happen. He would die. And that would be all. I took a deep breath and continued. Soon, he was stripped down to the waist, and my eyes widened in horror. The wound looked much worse than I had imagined beneath his clothes. I hoped it was just the blood.

"It is alright, Christine." He smiled weakly. "I do not expect you to do this… But… I w-will need you to p-pour that liquid… on the wound for me..." He pointed to the box I had set down beside me. "C-can you do that? I… scarcely possess the… the w-willpower to do it m-myself…"

"I… What is it?" I asked, opening the box. "Carbolic Acid… what is it?"

"It… it is an antiseptic… I… I have heard that Iodine is… is n-now the antiseptic of c-choice; less painful. But… I'm afraid I… have none." He looked up at me and placed his shaky hand upon mine. "Are you ready?"

I shook my head. Was I ready to willingly put him through more pain? Of course not.

He smiled.

"…Do it." He said, taking a fistful of the sheets beneath him and clenching his jaw in preparation.

I did as I was bid, slowly removing the cap from the bottle in my hands and holding it over him.

"…Do it. Y-you have to." He spoke.

"I… I can't! I can't hurt you!"

"You must, Christine."

My gaze shifted from him to the bottle in my hands. Yes. I had to. I knew that I had to…

Before I could stop myself I turned the bottle over; a good amount spilling out onto his wound. He cried out in pain but did not move. The wound hissed beneath my hand. What had I done?

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" I cried.

"It… is alright…" He managed through gritted teeth. "It is alright… There… is o-one more thing I must ask of you… W-would you p-please wash the needle and thread… in the acid...?"

Taking deep breaths I did as he asked and handed him the needle. He held it out before him but I could see that his hand was shaking and almost immediately I was aware that he was incapable of the task… I could not simply watch him struggle.

"Here… I…" I took the needle from him before he was able to protest. "Give it to me… I will do it." He looked up at me. "I will do it." I repeated. I thought that he would protest out of pride as he had been, something in line with his usual character but he did not. He accepted and I knew then that things must have been bad.

"Thank you." He said weakly.

"You need to tell me what to do…" I began, washing my hands in the same liquid I had poured over his wound. I looked down at what I was about to undertake. The acid had cleaned the wound well and I was able to see the incision clearly. Thankfully it wasn't as large as I had first imagined it to be, and Raoul's blade mustn't have struck anything major, if he had things would be much worse. "Has it gone through...?" I asked apprehensively. Erik looked at me quizzically. "To the other side?" I added.

"No… I… I don't think so…"

"Alright. That's… that's something." Things could always be worse… "Now, tell me what to do."

Erik instructed me as to where to make the incisions, where to tie them off and how many to make. He flinched as I began but other than that he didn't show any signs of being in pain at all.

"T-the… A-ancient Greeks and Egyptians were known to use honey to heal wounds." He inhaled sharply as the needle entered his flesh a second time. "…D-did you know that, Christine?"

"No. I did not." I said slightly dismissively. Ordinarily his every word would regale me, but I was concentrating and I knew that he was only speaking because he was doing the same. I looked at him. "I am sorry… this is just… very difficult. How is the pain?"

"Fine." He said. But I knew that he would say that regardless of what he was feeling.

I continued on in silence for the next few stitches.

"Is the pain still fine?" I asked.

He smirked.

"The pain is quite bad… b-but your stitching is nothing. You are doing well."

"This is… well it is the first time I have stitched skin… I must say."

"Does the needle not hurt at all?" I asked, still not convinced with his answer. I tied the final stitch and looked down at my handiwork. At least the bleeding had stopped.

He smirked again.

"This is not the first time I have been through something like this…"

I bit my lip awkwardly.

"Y-your back?" I asked apprehensively. He had not been overly excited to discuss the scars on his back when I had last brought them up and now was probably not the best time for me to do it again.

To my surprise he nodded. I looked down at his torso and he averted his gaze as I did so.

"And… I felt others…" I gently traced the scars on his ribs and chest I had previously felt beneath my fingers but had not been brave enough to mention. "…but I didn't want to say anything…"

"And those…" He said, still averting my gaze. "Some… have stories associated with them… memories…" He looked at me. "Others' contexts, I cannot recall."

Erik

She met my gaze and held it as she always did. Usually her gaze simply held me where I was; on edge, ill at ease in the most delicious way… But tonight I saw in her eyes something that I did not wish to see… something that I was not at all ready to accept; pity. I felt tears beginning to cloud my vision and looked away before one could betray me and fall down my cheek. I hated this. I hated it all. I was helpless, physically useless and weakened and now she served to weaken my psychological state as well. I hated having to rely on someone else, even if that someone was Christine. Hot tears stung my eyes, not from the pain… no, but because of her… because of her kindness. She looked down on my scars and pitied me… the look in her eyes near broke me and I decided then that I could suffer it no longer.

"What is it?" She asked. Apparently I had done a terrible job of hiding my emotion from her. How was it that she could read me so well? "What is wrong? Is it the pain?"

She was foolish if she thought that pain would ever drive me to tears again.

To my utter dismay a single tear slid down my cheek. I swiftly wiped it away but it was too late; she had already seen it.

"Erik… What is it?"

Attempting to make my voice sound as levelled as I could, I spoke.

"I should be looking after you, Christine."

"Is that all!?" She smiled.

"All?" I repeated. "Do not… simply trivialise me as such! 'What is wrong?' You ask? Where do I begin!? Do not think that I do not appreciate all you have done for me. You have saved my life. No one else would bother with such a feat… And that's partly it. Y-you looked down at me with… such pity just now that I… this is… it is demeaning!" Carelessly I attempted to sit forward. I hissed at the pain. Christine made to move forward put I held my hand out. "I… I hate lying here." I continued. "P-putting all of this weight on you; this responsibility. No one should have to be put through that, especially for someone like me!" Worse still, I could not move. I simply had to lie where I was and endure her pity. Christine took a deep breath before speaking.

"Erik, I will do what I have to in order to save your life, and I know that you would do the same…"

"Of course I would!"

"Well right now… you have to lie here. You just have to lie here and rely on me and that is all there is to it. If that means that your pride will have to suffer, so be it!"

"But I…"

"There will come a time when I will need you in such a way…"

"I s-should hope not! I would be nothing if… anything were to happen to you!"

"And when it does, you will do the same thing; whatever it takes to ensure my safety. And as for the so called pity…"

I was speechless. Never had she been so forthright with me. Perhaps this ordeal had matured her in a way I had not anticipated.

"Of course I feel pity for you! I challenge you not to pity me upon hearing of a time when I was hurt or upset. It is a natural emotion, Erik. And whether you can endure it or not, it is a part of what we have; pity comes with love. What am I supposed to feel upon seeing these scars? Thinking of a time when someone hurt you? It makes me ill and I would rather not think on it but whatever else, you cannot avoid it, you cannot hide it! You can only move on and… feel" She looked at me. "You have to allow yourself to feel, Erik. Or it will consume you…"

I looked into her eyes. I knew that she was right. I could not argue further. It was wrong of me to feel anger towards her when she was simply being herself; simply being human. And part of me knew that I was overreacting. The pain and exhaustion had made me irritable.

She placed her hand on my chest and gently traced one my scars once more.

"I hate to think about someone hurting you…" She said softly. "I want to hurt them."

I smiled and placed my hand over hers. I was sure that she would find it condescending but I could not help but find her adorable at that moment. It was truly amusing to see so much anger in someone so small; so fragile. She frowned.

"I mean it!" She said indignantly.

"I know." I replied, still smiling. "W-when… did you grow up, Christine Daae?"

She gave me a bashful smile and her gaze returned to my wound. After cleaning away the excess blood she assisted me in removing my jacket, waistcoat and shirt and wrapped a bandage around my torso. Now all we had to do was wait and hope that infection would not become a problem.

"How do you feel now?" She asked, taking my hand in her own. "I've no idea how much blood you lost but… you certainly seem more coherent."

"I will be alright. I just need rest, now."

"Yes." She began rummaging around in the box beside her. "Is there anything in here for the pain?"

"No." I said plainly. "I will manage though."

I didn't have a choice.

"Oh!" She cried, hey eyes; wide. "Your leg! I had forgotten!"

So had I.

"Had we better not apply some of that…"

"The acid…" I sighed. "Yes. I suppose so."

She treated my leg in much the same way before wrapping it, removing my shoes and throwing a fresh blanket over me before sitting down beside me, looking quite pleased with herself. I suffered the indignity of it all without a word; I did not wish to upset her and what she had told me earlier rang true. In spite of the fact that such treatment was foreign to me and in spite of the fact that every fibre of me wished to reject it… I found that I quite enjoyed it.

"Alright." She said, taking my hand in her own once more. "Do you need anything else? Food? Water? Perhaps you are thirsty. You should probably stay hydrated." Before I could answer she had left and returned with a glass of water. I hardly had a chance to protest before it was thrust into my hand. In truth, I did enjoy her fussing… and I was far too tired to protest further.

"Thank you, Christine." I said as I handed her the glass.

"I was so worried." She said solemnly. "I still am."

"I daresay that under your care, there is not much to worry about."

She smiled bashfully once more.

"Alright…" She began. She ran her hand over my chest affectionately; her fingers setting my skin ablaze as they always did. I could not help but smile at the sensation. "You should sleep." She added. I wanted to pull her toward me, I wanted to hold her… I wanted to have her but injuries would not allow. Neither would propriety.

"Yes…" Was all I could say. "And you?"

"I am going to find something to eat in that kitchen of yours. You may not wish to eat, but I certainly do."

"I wish that I could prepare something for you…"

"Hush!" She teased, placing a small finger on my lips. "When you are well you can prepare me something glorious." I closed my eyes. Her hand gently moved from my mouth to the side of my face and my mask… I allowed her to remove it, and my wig, smiling into her touch as she cupped my face in her hand. "But for now… rest." She removed her hand and my eyes shot open, my body instantly aware of the lack of warmth present. "I will join you after I eat." She said, the corner of her mouth upturned in a small smirk.

This woman's power over me would only continue to grow…

She left the room and drew the curtains surrounding the bed, just as I had done for her. With a small smile I closed my eyes and to my surprise and in spite of the pain I was in, I fell asleep. But who knew what I would face upon waking? I knew that infection was a very real possibility and I knew that a wound such as this would take a long time to heal… I also knew that Raoul would be searching for me and eventually…

Eventually…

He would find me.

Whatever pain I was in, whatever I was going through it did not matter, because I was with her… Christine… Being with her truly felt like something out of a dream.

But sooner or later this dream I was living would have to come to an end.

They always did.

Let me know what you think!