Chapter 7-Enlightenment

Erik couldn't comprehend why Christine wanted to know of his past, his terrible awful history that he was sure would have her running from him as soon as he told her. He wouldn't tell her, not yet at least. The knowledge of his past sins would surely destroy any progression he had made in the last two months. Every day, his Christine grew more comfortable in his presence, even allowing him to touch her whenever he pleased. No, he would not ruin that.

And tonight, oh, god, tonight she had touched him so intimately. Her fingers on his chest–her lips upon his skin. The feelings were undoubtedly the closest to complete happiness he had ever been, apart from the kiss they once shared that now seemed to be decades ago. These delicate touches were what Erik lived for and she gave them so freely. He reached his hand up to lightly stroke his jaw where the touch of her lips still lingered. The hot breath that emanated from her mouth had been enough to nearly send him into madness, and the way her body reacted to his touch as well was equally sufficient. Her beautiful hips in his hands, her wonderfully soft lips under his thumb, both tempting him to break his promise to not steal any kisses.

The ache for her to come back to him and allow him to explore her body was agonizing. How badly he wanted to touch her in other ways, to be able to feel the soft mounds of her breasts pressing against his palms, or even just be able to kiss her again. A kiss would be enough to wash away his aching need for her, but he would never get it, not with his reservations to open up to her. Not with his material gifts and refusal to give her the knowledge she sought.

He groaned, placing his head in his hands. He needed to obey her and give her what she desired. No matter if she screamed or hid, she had to know who he really was before he had any chance of her returning his love. Being reclusive was only going to make her despise him and he couldn't have that, not when he only had until the end of the year. But how long could he wait to tell her, a month or two?

Now, go now, a voice told him.

"No, she needs to rest, besides, I have work to do," Erik argued, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples.

Perhaps, the voice was right like it had been so many times, but it had also been drastically wrong much more. He loathed the madman that poisoned his mind, always screaming, demanding, threatening, on the rare occasion, encouraging greatness. Often offering advice that ended badly, very badly. Erik refused to pay any mind to the voice any longer, it had soiled his life on far too many occasions.

But, what if he obeyed just one last time? Surely, it wouldn't cause any harm. After all, Erik had left Christine alone longer than he meant to and had not returned on time for their music lesson. He had missed her terribly while visiting Lyon and wasn't expecting her to retreat into her room more or less just as he arrived back home to her.

He would go to her, give her what she desired and if she rejected him, then so be it. She had already promised to stay and he would be sure she held true to her words.

Erik stood so quickly that the chair he had been seated upon almost toppled over, but he didn't care as he was determined to be at Christine's side. He rushed up the stairs, his footsteps light as always, though he was sure if he was a regular man, they would be thundering. He reached the hallway to Christine's room and walked as fast as he could, and as he approached her door he noticed it was ajar and there were soft moans coming from the other side.

Must be a nightmare, Erik thought to himself. Against his better judgment, he peered inside, hoping she was sleeping so he could observe her in silence.

All of the breath was stolen from Erik's lungs as his eyes fell upon the beautiful sight that laid in the silk covered bed. As he pushed the door farther open, only slightly as to not alert her to his presence, he had to grip the door frame for support as more of Christine's body was revealed to him. Her beautiful writhing form on the bed he had provided for her. The expensive silken sheets he had purchased so she would be more comfortable. The pillows he had taken from his room since they were sure to be more to her liking. All the simple acts he had done for her took part in her pleasuring herself. And right before his very eyes, no less!

The delicate fingers of her hand stroked the sensitive flesh of her alluring glistening womanhood before coming to rest upon the little bud that was her pleasure. Erik took note of how her back arched and how her fingers dug into the same hip he had done the same with less than an hour earlier. Her perfect toes curled and her feet swept across the coverlet, widening her legs and revealing more of her creamy inner thighs and the cleft of her rear.

God, how he wished he could join her, please her. To drink up all of her lovely nectar and devour every inch of her body. His own shuddered at the thought of sliding his tongue along the same path as her fingers and drawing out her release. He could only imagine how slick and ready for a lover she was. He could love her, he could give her the same pleasure if she allowed him.

The straining in Erik's trousers was growing harder to ignore as a deep fire invaded his loins and he fought off the urge to rip them down and rush in to take her, or even to match her movements within his own hand.

Take her, even if she protests, she is rightfully yours, Erik ignored the urging, though it was tempting, he would not dare to commit such an act against her will. Only a monster would do such a thing.

Christine was so beautiful, so magnificent. Blushing and brazen, ready for him, and when that time came, he would not hesitate to stake claim to what was his.

Soon, he told himself. Very soon.

A low moan came from the room, and Erik snapped his eyes up to Christine's face. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her breath picked up into a heavy pant as she worked her nimble fingers faster against her flesh. A lump formed in Erik's throat at the realization of what was to come.

Her climax.

And he was going to be an unseen witness to it! This surely had to be a dream! Or, perhaps he slipped on the stairs and fell to his death. Maybe Heaven did exist after all and the god spoken so highly of had granted him access due to Christine's prayers. It was the only logical explanation. After all, there was little possibility that Christine would pleasure herself and leave her door open. She must be hoping and praying that he would happen upon her, that he would sneak into her room and slide into bed next to her to assist in drawing out her release. But, there was no chance she was imagining him beside her, one glance at his face while love making was sure to instantly halt her arousal.

A wave of shame and disgust washed over him and he turned his face away from Christine. How dare he lay his devil's eyes on her during such an intimate moment? They were not worthy of the beautiful vision they had beheld. Erik forced himself to leave and he quietly made his way back to the stairs to escape back down to the parlor.

A quiet whisper made him stop in his tracks. Someone had said his name, a familiar voice that could only belong to Christine. Had she been thinking of him as she pleased herself?

A wide smirk spread on Erik's face, and he felt a sense of satisfaction and inspiration spread through him. He rushed back to the parlor and began pacing. He was more determined now, not only to give Christine what she desired, but to win her heart, now the question was, how?

"Music!" he declared.

Christine loved music, his music specifically, she surely would enjoy the new song he was composing, after all it was for her. It was so close to completion, and he was determined to finish it that night and present it to her in the morning. Erik settled in at the piano and began working on the final touches of his new masterpiece. The usual music in his head was replaced with the memory of Christine's moans of ecstasy, giving him all the motivation he needed to perfect his music.

xXx

Breakfast with Christine was always the best part of Erik's day. Her sleepy eyes and puffy face were rather endearing and he very much enjoyed the comfortable silence that fell over them as they ate. Thankfully, Christine didn't seem to be suspicious of the fact that he had seen her endeavors from the previous night, though she appeared to be avoiding eye contact. Erik shrugged it off as sleepiness and hurriedly ate the small amount of food he had prepared for himself.

"I wish you would eat more," Christine interrupted, before turning her head back down to her own plate.

One of her curls fell from behind her ear, and Erik quickly reached out to tuck it back, "I will try, my dear," he assured her, and he would. He was used to eating only small amounts as food was hardly ever on his mind and he would often forget to eat for days when he became engrossed by the melodies in his head.

"Promise?" Christine asked, her gaze had shifted to his and she quickly looked away, her cheeks taken by a rosy blush once again.

Beautiful, Erik thought as he nodded. He quickly finished the last bite of his food and cleared off the table.

Erik stood by the sink for a few minutes contemplating how he would present his new song to her. He found himself extremely anxious to perform for her, a new feeling that he had never experienced before. It was rather odd, though he wouldn't let it stop him from revealing his latest masterpiece.

He turned and found her still sitting at the table, her eyes watching him, "I have a gift for you."

Christine sighed and gave him a small smile, "Alright."

Erik returned her smile then crossed to her, taking up her hands and leading her into the parlor. He sat on the piano bench and patted the empty space next to him, being sure to adjust far enough over so she could sit with him but not too far as to impede his ability to play. She obediently joined him and sat on the edge of the bench, the space between them just mere inches.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves, "I have been composing this as a gift for you for quite some time, my love. Last night, I found inspiration to finally finish it after–" he stopped himself, not wanting to give away his knowledge of the events he had witnessed.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Christine look away, the tips of her ears were red and he could tell she was biting her lip. Perhaps she knew he had been watching her. He was sure she hadn't noticed him, after all, her eyes were closed tightly during the act.

Erik cleared his throat, "Alright, my love. Shall I begin?"

Christine nodded and her eyes moved to his fingers that were hovering above the ivory keys. Erik began his new song, closing his eyes and letting the music flow through him, hoping she would see the beauty and story behind it. She had inspired it after all.

No one would listen

No one but her

Heard as the outcast hears

Shamed into solitude

Shunned by the multitude

I learned to listen

In the dark, my heart heard music

I long to teach the world

Rise up and reach the world

No one would listen

I alone could hear the music

Then at last a voice in the gloom

Seemed to cry "I hear you. I hear your fears, your torment and your tears."

She saw my loneliness

Shared in my emptiness

No one would listen

No one but her

Heard as the outcast hears

No one would listen

No one but her

Heard at the outcast hears

At the conclusion of the song, Erik finally opened his eyes, then glanced at Christine. She sat perfectly still, her wide eyes filled with tears as she stared at him with a look of amazement–or was it horror?

Hope dwindled as Christine sat frozen and Erik began to think that she secretly despised the song he had composed for her. He had made a mistake presenting it to her, it had only brought tears to her eyes just as he had feared. He contemplated making an escape to his room but felt as if he couldn't move. Instead, he pulled his trembling hands away from the keys and tucked them between his thighs before fixing his gaze on his leather binder.

Fool! You gave her your heart and she crushed it without second thought! the frenzied voice bellowed, the words echoed in his mind.

Erik squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on drawing in steady breaths, something he only recently discovered helped him keep his composure. He couldn't listen to him, he couldn't. He had promised himself he would not allow that madman to infiltrate his mind any longer, especially when the subject held disdain towards Christine.

His Christine.

The same woman that has showed him compassion and friendship the past two months, who has tolerated his abhorrent face without even the slightest quiver of discomfort. Was she truly not frightened or disgusted by his ghastly features? Surely, if his face was no longer haunting for her, his music would not suffer the same fate. He needed his song to penetrate her soul, transcend her spirit into complete ecstasy.

He felt Christine shift her weight into him, leaning against his arm, "That was beautiful," she whispered, finally breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

Erik sighed in relief and he felt tears forming in his eyes and soon they were falling down his cheeks and landing on the keys of his piano. He had been wrong again, so very wrong.

A soft touch as her thigh touched his made him flinch and he opened his eyes to see Christine's hands moving towards either side of his face. They rested on his cheeks and turned him to look at her, his tears expertely wiped away by the pads of her thumbs. He watched carefully as her eyes swept over his face and he tried his best not to grimace when they lingered too long on his deformity.

Suddenly, her lips were covering his and he let out an embarrassingly loud whimper when the realization struck him. His eyes widened and he moved his hands to meet hers on either side of his face. The feeling was unfathomable, painful, delightful all at once and he never wanted it to end. He could spend the rest of his pitiful existence just as he was, unmoving and not caring for mortal essentials. As long as he had Christine, he was fulfilled.

Erik moved one of his hands to cup the back of Christine's neck and closed his eyes, allowing his entire being to be taken by the woman in front of him. The whisper of their lips was the only sound heard in the room apart from the quiet sighs emanating from Christine. Her lips were like the finest silk sheets he had ever had the pleasure of sleeping upon, still sweet from the honey and cream she had with her morning tea, and so very warm–but then they were gone. She had pulled away, leaving him desiring so much more, hoping she would return to his lips and allow their fervent moment to continue.

But, Christine didn't return to him and Erik slowly opened his eyes to see her looking away from him, rubbing her arm nervously. She was perfection, truly the epitome of a goddess and she had, for the second time, willingly kissed him!

"Christine, I–" Erik whispered, but before he could finish a wave of vertigo overtook him and he wasn't sure if he would faint or not. Her kiss had been so powerful, so overwhelming and he couldn't slow his pounding heartbeat or put an end to the intense ringing noises in his ears. "I think I may need to lay down. I do not feel well. I am going to–I will be in my room."

In an instant, Christine's face shot back to his and she nodded, "I will take you. You shouldn't go alone, I don't want you to fall down the stairs." She quickly stood from the bench and held out her hand.

Erik swallowed hard, now fighting back nausea, then took her hand, allowing her to lead him from the parlor. The journey to his room was excruciating, he had never felt as weak as he had at that moment. It was as if his knees would shatter right under him, the only thing keeping them from doing so was the support of Christine's arm around his waist. Once they finally made it to his room, Christine pushed the door open and helped him to his bedside.

"You can't sleep with your coat or your boots. Off with them," she demanded.

Erik sat on the bed and quickly removed them, obeying her every command, "Thank you, my love."

"Lay down, Erik, you need to rest, you are rather pale," she placed the back of her hand on his forehead, "You don't seem to have a fever, regardless, I will bring you some tea," Christine stated, forcing him down into the bed and pulling his coverlet over his body.

It was rather odd having Christine care so much for his health and ensure he evaded sickness, though he knew he wasn't sick. He was never sick.

Erik was unsure of where to place his hands as Christine was moving over him as she tucked the coverlet around him. The only logical thing to do was to help her so he awkwardly patted the fabric around him, doing his best to avoid her wandering hands. A light touch brushed over his manhood causing instant arousal and Erik clutched the coverlet over the area in an attempt to hide the raging bulge that hid underneath.

Steady hands worked farther up the sides of his trembling body bringing her closer and closer to him and soon, their eyes were just inches apart. The shared air between them mingled into something akin to an aphrodisiac and Erik felt a primal urge rising within him.

Christine placed her hands lightly on his chest, her curls cascading around her face. The yellowed light of the candles shone around the edges of her auburn hair, truly giving her the radiance of an angel.

"Beautiful," Erik whispered, hardly even noticing he had spoken aloud. He shakily reached up and tucked a loose curl behind her ear and locked his eyes with hers, wondering what he had to do to obtain another kiss.

A quiet sigh fell from her lips as her face moved closer to his, her eyes fluttered closed and her lips connected with his once again. Erik didn't dare to hesitate, he wrapped his arms around her waist, crushing her body against him, craving the closeness he had been denied his entire life. Oh, god, and Christine did not attempt to escape or draw back. He felt the coverlet being shoved aside and the bowing of the bed as she climbed up to sit on her knees. Erik moved one of his hands up to her hair and knotted his fist into the disheveled mess, deepening their frantic kiss. His tongue trailed along her lower lip, begging, pleading for access and she did not disappoint. She instantly parted her lips, allowing him to dip his tongue into her mouth, and she did the same. Their tongues rolled over each other, a dance of sorts in Erik's mind and it was divine.

And the taste of her! The honey from her tea was stronger than it had been just on her lips and it was almost too much for him to endure. Erik wondered what he tasted like to Christine, after all, he preferred his tea plain, as he always had since as long as he could remember. Maybe he would begin adding honey to his to give her the same pleasure as she was—

God, why was he thinking about tea? The woman of his dreams was above him and he had the audacity to think of tea? It was absolutely laughable.

He turned his attention back to Christine, moving his hands down to her hips, gripping them just as he had the previous night. Without warning, one of her legs moved over him and he felt weight on top of him, brushing against his very obvious arousal and he jerked slightly at the outlandish feeling. He nearly died of astonishment when she pressed her hips harder down against him, his entire soul was on fire and it took every bit of his self-control not to thrust up against her. But, he wanted to, so badly, he wanted to drive his hips up into the center of her and lose himself completely. To spend himself within his trousers without even the slightest feeling of guilt as she would not know he had done so if he controlled his breathing throughout his—

Cool air replaced the wet heat of Christine's mouth and Erik opened his eyes and looked up at the beauty sitting straight up on his lap. She was flushed, lips bright pink and swollen from the crushing force of their kiss and trailing her hands along his bare chest that she had somehow managed to free from his shirt. The heat behind her eyes was a fiery intensity, beckoning him to make the next move. Pleading with him to take their tryst farther than it had already come.

Of course, he did not wish to disappoint the angel astride his lap so he gently moved his hands up her sides. His long fingers ghosting the fabric of the sleeping gown she still had not changed out of. The thin, easily removable sleeping gown. Boldly, he moved slowly, ever so slowly towards the perfect mounds of her breasts. His entire being sang as he engulfed them in his palms and the soft supple feel of them through her gown was nearly enough to send him to his grave. She shuddered under his touch, throwing her head back and grinding down onto his arousal. The feeling was absolute ecstasy, prompting a tight stirring within his loins, forcing him to grip Christine's shoulders to cease her movement.

"Christine, please. We cannot allow this to continue," Erik rasped. He could not spend himself, though the idea was tempting, in the presence of the goddess above him. Not until she returned his love.

"Erik," the angel whimpered.

Her breath came out ragged and her hands met one of his on her shoulder, placing it against her lips. Wet hot kisses covered the top of his hand until her lips met his knuckles where she paused and peered at him through her lashes.

It was a look of primal lust, of complete consent. Her unspoken surrender.

A tremor wracked Erik's body and with an unearthly growl, he flipped her onto her back, settling between her legs. He marveled at the sight of her below him, never in his miserable life had he truly believed he would be in such a position with this woman before him. He had only dreamed of being free to move against her, to pin her to his bed and have his way with her. It was pure ecstasy and he wanted more, so much more.

He buried his haunted face in her neck, nipping at her earlobe and kissing along her jaw until his lips found hers again. He was immediately granted access into the depths of her mouth and he groaned into her when she wrapped her legs around him, pulling his hips hard against her sex. The apparent need for her was painful and his trousers were unbearably tight.

Take her! Fuck her! She is begging you! She is burning for you! the madman screamed.

Erik squeezed his eyes closed tightly in an attempt to shut out the voice, but god, it was right. She was begging, pleading with him to claim her slick heat for his own pleasure, to bury himself within her soul and draw out both of their releases.

To hell with love, she wants me, Erik thought, reaching between them and tearing her pantalettes down before fumbling with the buckle of his trousers. His desire could only be restrained for so long, he needed her. He would simply die if he didn't feel her wet heat enveloping him within the next few seconds.

Just as he undid the buckle of his trousers, Christine tensed beneath him and short whimpers escaped from her unresponsive mouth. He pulled away, fearing the worst and noticed the tears pouring from her eyes as she looked up at him.

"Christine, I'm sorry," he whispered, quickly moving from over her and retreating to the corner of his room where he refastened his trousers. How could he be so foolish? Of course she was scared of him, what else should he have expected?

Christine looked at him with pleading eyes, then she swung her legs over the side of the bed and ran across the hall, disappearing into her room. Erik watched with horror, and hatred, not for her, but for himself. He was a monster and just being near his grotesque body was enough to send her into madness.

Erik let out an angry grunt and flipped the chair in his room, then he tore up the sheet music that sat on his organ. Destruction, that's all he was capable of. He wasn't efficient at anything else, except music of course and he had just lost the focus of his inspiration due to his unsavory actions. He had thought he had done right by her for once, even spent the time to give her a gift that wasn't dresses and shoes just as she had asked. Was his song not enough?

It wasn't enough, I will never be enough, Erik thought, his knees buckled and he collapsed to the floor in a sobbing heap. She would never love him, he had been foolish to even hope that she ever would. All of his efforts to improve himself, had they really been for nothing? Death was all that he could hope for now, he should just lock his door and curl up on his bed to die from starvation. He didn't deserve a quick death, a slow torturous painful one would be best for him. But, he would need to let Christine know she was free to leave before committing to such a fate, yes, she was free and she could take that stupid mare he had foolishly bought for her.

Heaving sobs took over his body and he couldn't draw a breath without nearly choking. God, he was so pitiful. How could anyone ever love him? He wasn't worthy of feeling the joys of love or kindness. Nothing he ever did would be notable enough to earn him the same joys an ordinary man would experience.

A high-pitched scream pulled Erik from his own self pity.

"Christine," he choked, hardly loud enough to be a whisper. Had she been hurt?

Erik clumsily climbed to his feet, wiping the tears from his eyes with his shirt sleeve then quickly stalked towards Christine's bedroom. He paused outside the door, debating if he should knock but if she had been hurt, would she be able to answer?

With a groan, Erik flung the door open and looked around the dimly lit room. Christine was nowhere to be seen, but he could hear her sobs. The earth-shattering sobs of the woman he loved, cutting right into his soul, a punishment that he deserved.

"Christine?" Erik questioned as he slowly walked into the room. He moved around the side of the bed and nearly stepped on her. There, on the floor by the bed, was his angel rocking back and forth, singing to herself. Oh god, what had he done? He had forced her into madness. The sight of her manic state made his stomach churn and he wanted to leave her alone, save her from any more damage, but he couldn't. He would not leave her to her own devices, not when he himself had once or twice been in such a state.

Erik stooped down, hesitantly stroking her hair, "Oh, god, I'm so sorry. What have I done to you?"

Christine's bloodshot eyes met his and he saw fear boiling deep inside them and he recoiled, but before he could move away, she flung her arms around his neck. He froze, unsure of how to react as he was sure she was frightened of him, but now she was clinging to him as if he was the sole thing that gave her life.

"Oh, Erik, I'm sorry," she whispered.

He blinked rapidly, confused as to why she was apologizing, after all it was his face that had ruined their moment, "Christine, I think we should get you into bed."

She pulled her face from his neck and stared at him, then Erik peeled her arms from around him and picked her up, cradling her against his chest. Her body was quaking so terribly that he almost dropped her, but he was able to get her set on the bed and underneath her coverlet, which he tucked around her while avoiding her gaze, "There, I will be in my room if you should need me."

Erik moved towards the window to draw the curtains so she could rest peacefully, only the dim lighting from the gas lamp filled the room now. He felt her watching eyes and without looking at her, he made his way to the door.

"Erik," the voice was meek and shaky, almost pleading, "Please, don't leave me."

He turned to face her, finally meeting her eyes. Fear still shone bright in them, yet she was asking for the very beast that had caused it in the first place. She wished for him to subject her to more terror and agony?

With a curt nod, he took a seat in the chair opposite the bed, crossing his ankle over his knee. He stared at her as she settled further into the bed, her gasping sobs were quieting as her hands wiped away her tears, then settled next to her on the coverlet. Erik wanted so badly to know what she was thinking, to know what to do to help her, but he couldn't. All he could do was stay with her as she asked.

They sat in silence for several minutes and Erik counted the rise and fall of her chest, her breaths she drew were deep and long, showing a calmness was finally coming over her. Then, Christine finally spoke, "It wasn't you, Erik. I know it may have seemed that way, but I promise, it wasn't you."

Erik closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Then what was it, Christine?"

"I–I–" she stammered, then she took a deep breath, "It was Raoul, a–and his brother, Philippe."

Erik's eyes shot open and he raised one of his eyebrows, "What about them?"

Of course it was about that blasphemous fool! And his brother?! Was she to leave him for both of them? To hell with their deal, she would never leave, he wouldn't allow it.

Christine began sobbing again and she slowly sat up, her back against the headboard of her bed. Erik clenched his jaw and looked away, furiously wracking his brain for any inkling as to why these two boys had frightened her.

Christine pushed her disheveled hair away from her face, swiping away the tears that didn't seem to be close to stopping, "The day I arrived at Raoul's home, he–" she choked on a cry, "oh, God, he tried to rape me! Tried to make me prove my love for him! I said no, Erik, I said no and he still tried."

Fury overtook Erik and he stood, pacing the room and breathing heavily through his nose, "Rape you?! How dare that insolent little boy try to harm you? I will kill him. I swear to you, Christine, he will be dead. I will find him and he will be subject to the worst torture, I swear it!"

"Erik, stop, please, don't kill him. You promised," Christine reminded him.

Erik looked at her with a fiery glare, and he struggled to control his anger, his breath came in sharply and he wanted to scream and tell her to hell with his promise. The boy would die.

You must not snap at her, she needs you, he told himself.

"And, the brother?" Erik pushed, "What monstrosity did he commit?"

Christine looked down at her lap, "He assaulted me, he offered me an escort down to ball that night you came to me and he–he touched me, intimately, on my—God I wanted to throw up when his vile fingers touched me. And Raoul didn't believe me, he told me I was mistaken. I couldn't stay with him after that." Sobs wracked through her body and her head fell into her hands.

Erik was enraged, more than he ever had been in his life. Another man tried to claim what was his? Even worse, touched her without her permission? Oh, no, he would not stand for it. He would kill them both, hunt them down and torture them, tie them to posts and beat them senseless before sending them to their graves. Yes! Then he would–

No, you promised, Erik reminded himself, Comfort her.

Rage was pouring from every orifice of his being, but Erik knew rage was not going to solve the problem at hand, he needed to compose himself. Pull himself into a solid emotion, calm. He needed to be calm. He took in several deep breaths, trying his best to push the thought of the two irreverent boys to the back of his mind. Christine was the only thing of importance at the moment and she was sitting in front of him completely broken.

Unsure if he had the skill to fix her, Erik kneeled at the side of the bed near Christine, "I'm sorry, my love. If I had been there–I'm here for you now, what can I do to help? Please, tell me."

He reached up and removed her hands from her swollen face, placing light kisses along her knuckles and fingertips before releasing them and wiping her tears from her cheeks.

She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, "Please stay with me, don't leave me," she whispered, "Will you hold me? Join me in bed and hold me in your arms?"

Erik released her face, moving his hands away from her, "I–don't think that would be appropriate, my love. I do not wish to make you uncomfortable."

Christine protested, "No, Erik, please, I just–I know you won't hurt me like they did. I trust you, please. I only want to feel safe."

God, she wanted him to hold her in bed! How could he refuse such an intimate moment? Of course, he would behave very well and keep his hands on appropriate regions of her body. He refused to do anything that would break her trust.

Erik nodded, moving around the bed and climbing under the coverlet, settling into the smooth silk of the sheets. Christine nuzzled towards him, placing her head on his chest, and hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. She was so warm, yet she was still trembling violently. He placed a light kiss on the top of her head, then rubbed her back in lazy circles, making sure to be as gentle as he could. Christine returned the kiss, placing her lips on his bare chest, the feeling stirring the fluttering in his stomach. A gentle sigh came from Christine and Erik knew she was close to sleep.

Erik started singing quietly, recalling what she had done earlier to try and soothe herself and hoped that it would have the same effect. It seemed to work nicely and quiet snores filled the room around them. He ceased the movement on her back in fear that it would awaken her and closed his eyes, hoping to sleep as well. He hadn't slept for two days and he felt it slowly starting to affect him.

Just as he was slipping into unconsciousness, a quiet voice intruded his mind and he looked down at Christine with sleepy eyes. She was mumbling incoherently and Erik smiled. He had never heard her talk in her sleep, though he didn't adamantly watch her slumber much in the past.

He closed his eyes again relaxing farther into the bed, pulling Christine tighter to him and focusing on the sounds of her shallow breathing. That's when he heard it, as clear as the morning sky, a soft voice pulling him in, whispering against his skin, "Erik…Erik…I love you."

xXx

Author's Note: I just had to use the song No One Would Listen from the deleted scene from The Phantom of the Opera 2004. It was so beautiful and I always wish Erik would have sang it to Christine, so I added it myself.

On another note, chapter 8 will be out a little later, maybe 2-3 hours after I post this chapter. I just have a few finishing touches then it will be posted.

Thank you to everyone who is following along, please feel free to let me know what you think. My love language is words of affirmation so I'll take what I can get.