How the heck do I find time for this? Oh, right, I don't sleep. Family, work, blog, fanfiction . . . Heheh, I had a heck of a time deciding what to put in this chapter and what to leave out. For now, anyway.

StrawberryStoleYourCookie: Mmm, flax milk is good, too, creamier and smoother, in my opinion. And, nah, I was planning on bringing Anahita back, anyway, just waiting for the right moment for her to make an appearance.

LadyCavalier: Oh, but we must have some drama and angst! It can't be all cuddle fluff all the time! ;-) Yes, quite impossible to post a chapter a day. Oh, poo, that I'm an adult with responsibilities . . . Besides,I'd rather take my time to ensure each chapter is up to my standard. :-)

Eldunari Liduen: Yeah, writing tantrums is fun! I rather thought of Leroux's Raoul as an immature fop, but, when it mattered, he stepped up. Oh, poor Erik, so unable to believe he is worthy of love. *sigh* How long will it be before he accepts that Christine really does love him . . . Hmmm . . .

Tarja the wind witch: That's just some silliness I threw in, as I do with all my author's notes. ;-) And thank you for the lovely words!

Okay, let's get back to . . . whatever the heck this bizarre thing is that has burst forth from my . . . disturbed mind . . .

Erik had gone for nearly two entire days without wearing his mask. His skin felt so much better without the stiff material rubbing against his face and causing him such discomfort; his skin was able to breathe again. He also found that he was becoming more comfortable with Christine seeing his face. She never once screamed at the sight of him, never shuddered at his touch when he reached for her in the night, didn't pull away when he inched closer to her.

She was such a sweet girl.

How had he managed to stumble upon her and have the courage to make himself known to her . . . How had she managed to look past the deceit and the manipulation and his face . . . He didn't deserve her.

And yet, she remained with him, not because of some threat he had made or because he had scared her or because he had hypnotised her and manipulated her. She stayed with him because she wanted to be there with him. She didn't want to leave his side when she grew tired at night. He was becoming terribly accustomed to having her sleep beside him. Oh, it was completely innocent, of course, but it was such a wonderful feeling to know that she actually cared about him!

But it saddened him to think that she didn't really know him all that well. She only knew him as her "Angel of Music", her voice teacher, and her friend. She had not even the slightest inkling of the crimes of his past, of the tortures committed under his watch, of the political assassinations.

Then there was the matter of how much older he was than she . . .

The thought of their age difference only occasionally made him pause and wonder if she might not prefer someone younger. But when he thought of her walking with someone else, telling someone else of her dreams and hopes, a fury blinded him with such force that he could not bear to let her leave his side. He didn't leave the house, and he wouldn't tend to business except through notes to Mme. Giry, and that he could do with Christine by his side in Box Five when they went to watch rehearsals. During those little outings, he discovered that she provided him with insights into the other girls that he never might have known. Even with all his spying, there were things that girls only told other girls in hushed whispers. And so, he insisted on having Christine with him at all times.

He loved her too much to relinquish the claim he had on her.

And she, for her part, would not have him relinquish that claim for all the jewels in Europe. She had to admit, if only to herself, that she rather enjoyed all the attention he was lavishing on her now. It had become a silly game between them. She would pout and insist that he needn't go to so much trouble and fuss over her this way, but, when he wasn't looking, she would feel the corners of her mouth tilt upwards in a secret grin.

She was aware that Erik saw all. And it pleased her to think that.

And it pleased him to know that what he did pleased her.

"Erik?" Christine's voice floated to his ear from across the room. "Might we go for a walk later?"

He turned from the composition he'd been working on to smile at her. "Yes, of course, my dear." He retrieved his pocket watch to check the time. It was still early. "After we have had supper. Perhaps we shall stop for some sweets." He didn't particularly care for sweets, or for sugar, for that matter, but, if it made Christine happy, he was happy to ingest some small confection.

"I would like that." She smiled at him then returned her attention to the book of Russian phrases she had spent the afternoon studying. She didn't want to burden Erik with having to translate everything for her when they went on their trip next summer! She just hoped that she wouldn't disappoint him with how slowly she was coming along with her studies.

No, she knew that he would help her with studying Russian whenever she asked him. He'd taught her the basics already, the correct pronunciation of each letter, the lilt and cadence of some of the words. But she wanted to be able to surprise him with her progress in a few days. She had learned French rather quickly when she was a child, and Breton had been a challenge she had been more than willing to accept. This was her fourth language, and she planned to become as fluent in it as she was with the first three.

More importantly, she wanted to be Erik's equal. Perhaps she would never be the genius he was, but she could certainly strive to educate herself as much as she could. He definitely had a wealth of books on a variety of subjects to help her in quest for knowledge!

Raoul paced the drawing room, wondering what had come over him the day before. Why had he reacted so strongly to hearing Philippe tell him that he had witnessed Christine walking with a man? He was in no position to demand that she meet with no one else! Mme. Valerius herself had told him that she was off with her "good genius". Could that be the man Philippe had seen her with?

Why did this matter so much to him? Mme. Valerius had said that it would be inappropriate for a member of the aristocracy to court a singer, and she was right. Christine would have to abandon all thought of a career on stage if he were to court her properly. If she refused to do that, he would probably have to relinquish his title if he truly desired a - dare he think of it? - a marriage with his childhood friend.

The idea of giving up his title and the money and properties that came with it gave him pause. Perhaps, as his brother had suggested, he should bide his time before settling down. He was still young and inexperienced. He had plenty of time for serious matters later. He could socialise with people before settling down with a suitable wife.

With this new outlook, he resolved to ask Sorelli, the next time he saw her, if she knew someone that could accompany him to supper in the evenings. He would ask her to introduce him to someone . . . fun.

Supper in the house by the lake was pleasant. Erik told Christine more about the different places he had lived - but he did gloss over the details of events he said he was " not proud of" - and the buildings he had designed in various cities. She was utterly fascinated by his tales and listened in wide-eyed rapture.

A/N: Next, another glimpse of Christine's diary . . .