Chapter 8-Revelation

A loud creaking noise followed by the shuffling of footsteps woke Christine from her dreamless sleep. She lifted her heavy eyelids and peeked through her lashes to see Erik standing over her. He held a tray and wore a wide debonair grin that made her stomach flutter.

"Good morning, my dear. I trust you slept well," he questioned as he set the tray on the bedside table and crouched down next to her. "I have prepared breakfast in bed. I hope you don't mind."

Christine sat up and pressed her back against the headboard, "How long did I sleep?"

It felt as if they had just shared breakfast only an hour previously and now Erik came to her with a second one. She must have slept longer than she thought.

"Almost an entire day, but no matter. Here you are, my dear," Erik said, moving the tray to her lap.

"Thank you," Christine whispered as she looked down at the crudely made strawberry tart accompanied by a cup of tea.

Usually the pastries he served her were expertly made but the tart that laid before her was mangled into something…questionable. She bit back a grin and looked up at Erik who was glancing between her and the tart expectantly. With a soft smile, she lifted the tart to her lips and took a small bite and was shocked that it was one of the most delicious pastries she had ever eaten.

"Do you like it? You once said the strawberry tarts were your favorite, so I rode into Lyon while you slept and paid off the baker for his recipe. I made at least five batches before I perfected the taste," he leaned towards her slightly, his eyes full of hope.

Christine nodded, "Very much, though, when did you have time to make them? I'm sure you had other affairs to attend to as well."

Erik looked away and stood from her bedside and crossed to her window, "During the night. I fear I did not get a minute of sleep, nevertheless, I slept plenty alongside you yesterday morning. It was the best I've ever had."

Christine studied him as he drew back the curtains and gazed outside, his brows furrowed and his lips moved silently. The side of his face that was free of his deformity faced her and it fascinated her how beautiful he was. God surely made up for His blunder in giving Erik a deformity by providing him with half of the face of an angel.

A handsome angel, she thought as she absently ate more of her pastry. Surely, if he had been born without a deformity, women all over France would be falling at his feet, begging him to take them as his wife.

Suddenly, he turned towards her, his eyes boring into hers, "I would very much like it if you joined me for a picnic today. We can leave after breakfast."

Christine rolled her eyes sarcastically, "Someone sure is chipper this morning."

The sentiment prompted a smile from Erik and he let out a low chuckle, "I suppose I am, is it so bad that I have a good morning, my love?"

"Not at all, I was merely taking note of your enthusiasm," she paused and nibbled on the edge of the tart, "I would love to join you for a picnic. I'm beyond thrilled to spend more time with you."

Erik turned away again and Christine could have sworn she saw him smirk, then he was at her side, "It pleases me that I have made you happy with our plans for today. Do I please you, Christine?" His eyes bore into hers and she felt her brain fogging over. The pastry slipped from her fingers and landed on the plate snapping her out of her trance.

Christine looked away from his eyes, "Of course, and once I finish my breakfast, I will dress for the day, then I will meet you at the stables."

Erik smiled widely, then took her hand, placing a light kiss on her wrist, "I shall prepare the horses."

"Thank you," she whispered, "For breakfast and the plans for such a lovely day."

"My only desire is to make you happy, my dear," he replied, then he stood and made his way over to the door.

Christine's eyes followed him and watched as he paused in the doorway, mumbling something quietly to himself before making his exit. She listened as his footsteps disappeared down the hallway then quickly finished the rest of her pastry and chugged down her tea. It was hot and burned her mouth but she didn't care. She was far too excited to start her day with Erik.

After placing the tray on the bedside table, she opened her wardrobe to search for a suitable dress for riding. She decided on the pale yellow one that had been her favorite and quickly dressed, disregarding her need for a corset as she didn't want to feel restrained during her day with Erik. She moved to her vanity and began shifting her hair around atop her head trying to find the perfect style for the day. She decided to tie her curls into a bun, leaving a few pieces out to frame her face. She then applied a small amount of cosmetics and pinched her cheeks to provide a subtle rosy look, and smiled at her reflection.

Christine had no notion as to why she was so focused on her appearance, perhaps it was because she was traveling farther than the front yard of the little cottage. She put the thought to the back of her mind and slipped some boots onto her feet, then made her way down the stairs and to the back door of the cottage. Her deep blue cloak hung on a hanger by the door and she fastened it around herself before stepping outside.

The stables were only a few feet away from the back of the building and when she arrived, Erik was nowhere to be seen. She must have dressed too quickly, so she walked over to Beauty, who was already saddled, and began stroking the horse's mane, twisting it in her fingers and reveling in how soft it was. Then she turned her attention to Cesar, who was kicking his hoof in frustration, most likely from Christine giving all of her affection to Beauty.

"Oh, Cesar, I am terribly sorry," Christine giggled, "I know you must hate that my attention is elsewhere," then she began petting him, her eyes darting around the backyard, "Where is your master, my darling?"

From behind her she heard a chuckle, "Right here. I do apologize for my tardiness. I was making sure our food was packed away nicely so it wouldn't spoil."

Christine jumped, tightening her hold on Cesar's saddle, "You frightened me."

She turned to Erik who was now dressed in black trousers with a white shirt tucked into the waistline, his coat left unfastened. He also wore a white mask and his usual wig, which Christine didn't mind as they were leaving the house and those were the times she knew he needed to wear them for his own sake.

Erik stopped in his tracks when he saw her, his gaze flitting up and down her figure. His lips parted and finally his eyes met hers and Christine saw a light blush on his exposed cheek.

Christine gave him a questioning look, "What's the matter? Do I have something on my face?" She turned away, wiping around her mouth and across her cheeks in case there was any leftover pastry stuck to her.

"No, no, my dear, I am just stunned at how lovely you look this morning. I don't think I have ever seen such a beautiful creature in my entire existence," Erik assured her, his voice wavering as he spoke.

Christine swallowed hard and glanced at him over her shoulder, "Shall we?" she asked, moving back to Beauty. She could feel Erik's eyes on her and she tried her best to keep herself from turning bright pink again.

"Yes," Erik whispered, then he strapped the items he was carrying to Cesar and mounted the stallion. She did the same with Beauty and they urged their horses forward with Christine leading hers to follow Erik.

Christine was happy being outside with the air rushing past her, she felt invigorated. She couldn't help but laugh as the wind hit her face and prompted a shiver to run down her spine.

The few times she had ridden a horse were with her father and once with Raoul during the week she stayed with him. The joy it brought her now was unfathomable and she looked up at Erik, who seemed to be enjoying the ride as well. He occasionally looked back at her, his windblown wig no longer smoothed into a perfect black slick atop his head causing her to giggle. She would need to fix it for him when they arrived at their picnic spot.

After a while of riding, Erik began to slow and Christine followed suit, coming to a complete stop near a small pond surrounded by water lilies and cattails. It was truly beautiful and she began to wonder how Erik had happened upon such a wonderful place.

Without hesitation, Erik dismounted and tied Cesar to a nearby tree, then he helped Christine down from Beauty, tying the mare alongside Cesar.

"It's beautiful," Christine muttered, spinning around slowly to view the entire area. It was completely surrounded by pine and oak trees. The morning sun shone through the branches, illuminating the pond like something out of a fairytale book.

Christine's eyes sparkled and she slowly made her way to the pond to see small colorful fish swimming near the surface of the murky water.

"I knew you would like it," Erik proudly said.

She turned around to see Erik walking towards her with a white folded blanket, his wig still disheveled. She stepped forward to meet him and reached up, fixing his windblown hairs, smoothing each strand back into place. Her eyes locked with Erik's and she nearly choked on her breath at how much adoration she found within the blue depths. She quickly pulled her hands away, "There, all better."

"Thank you," he said, moving his hand over his hair himself, "I will lay out our blanket, where would you like it?"

"Anywhere is fine," she replied, and truly anywhere would do. Not one area was a bad spot to sit, it was perfect.

Erik smiled then spread the blanket out near where they were standing, then he plopped down, sighing and supporting himself with his elbows. Christine joined him, sitting on her hip with all of her weight on her palm. She still looked around, examining the trees, secretly looking for any imperfection, but she couldn't find one.

Then a hand was on top of hers, pulling her closer until she was on her knees above Erik. He had laid all the way back and closed his eyes, holding her hand against his lips.

"What would you like to talk about?" Christine asked, adjusting on her other hip so that Erik could still hold her hand.

His eyes opened and a look of worry spread on his face, then he sat up and crossed his legs, "I have debated with myself quite a bit and have decided that if you are still interested, I can tell you of my past. I refused the other day only because I was scared that you would leave me, but if you are to love me, you need to know all of me, as you have said."

Christine swallowed, he was going to tell her of his past, all of his dark secrets, everything he worried she would abandon him for. Her heart fell to her stomach and she wasn't sure if she even wanted to know anymore, not after how he reacted the other night, but she couldn't find the words to stop him from telling her.

Erik took a deep breath, then began, "Christine, please do not think less of me, I had a hard life. Not a lot of people understand the hardships I have faced, not only as a man but as a child. I will not go into heavy detail because I do not want to frighten you any more than I have to."

Christine nodded, keeping her lips sealed so she wouldn't interrupt his thoughts.

He continued after taking both of her hands in his, "I was born in a small town near Rouen, I never knew my father and my mother rejected me due to my–" he gestured to his face, "she couldn't accept a monster as her child, so when I was only nine years of age, I ran away. After wandering for a while, a gypsy found me on the road and with one look at my face, he decided to make me his main attraction for his traveling circus. I was known as 'The Devil's Child', not the name I would have chosen for myself, but I didn't have a choice in the matter," Erik paused, tears forming in his eyes.

Christine moved closer, placing her hands on his chest as a silent affirmation to continue, so he did, "I was with them for a year and it was there that I became a great illusionist and found my love for magic and music. My voice was powerful, even at such a young age, they called it unearthly and unfortunately, I became two of their top attractions simultaneously. When I wasn't being beaten and prodded due to my deformity, I was cloaked in black singing on a stage, violin in hand. One day, we came to stay in Paris, that's when a group of young girls from the ballet came to visit the carnival. A single one stood out to me, one that didn't look at me with horror or mockery but pity," Erik's tears started flowing and Christine began wiping them away, not allowing a single one past her fingertips.

"Erik, you don't have to continue, please don't make yourself unhappy on my behalf," Christine pleaded, wrapping her arms around Erik's neck and placing light kisses on his exposed cheek. He shuddered under her touch and his arms pulled her across his chest, and he laid back, cradling her against his body.

"I'm alright, I need to tell you, Christine. You have to know before–" he paused, then kissed the top of her head, "Madame Giry was that girl, Christine. She came back for me, watched me murder the gypsy that kept me trapped and helped me escape into the night and to the Opera Populaire where she hid me in the basements. She would bring me food and spend time with me. I began to think of her as my older sister, though I knew we could never have a bond like that. She was rather boisterous at that age, unlike the prude she is today," Erik laughed, "After two years, she had only just turned sixteen when she discovered she was expecting a child and right then, it was as if someone had squashed all the joy out of her life."

Christine joined in his laughter, "Madame Giry can be quite the prude. You should see her during rehearsals."

"Oh, I have, my dear. How else was I to know how my theater was being run? Should we continue?" he asked.

She nodded, "Please."

"Under the Opera Populaire, I found my home and eventually helped redesign the majesty of the opera house to what you know it as today, studied the music and watched the stage productions. I fell in love with opera," he chuckled, the vibration of his body flowing through Christine and causing her to shiver.

Erik seemed to notice and moved her onto her side, then sat up to shrug off his coat. He wrapped it around her and laid next to her, his arms covering her body in a protective and warming manner. He must have assumed she was shivering due to the cold.

Christine lifted part of his coat to her nose and inhaled, happy to find that it smelled of him. She breathed deeper allowing the scent to flow through her, relaxing her rigid form.

Erik seemed to notice and smiled before he continued to speak, "Shortly after I turned twenty, I was summoned to Persia to assist in the architectural designs for the Shah, as they had caught wind of me due to my work at the opera house. It was also in Persia where I became an assassin, though I only dealt with dangerous men. Rapists, murderers, an occasional corrupt politician. I refused to take contracts that involved women," he stopped again, examining Christine's unchanging expression.

She wasn't bothered as she already knew of his time in Persia and was sure he saved more lives than he took by being rid of such men. Though murder was a terrible sin, he had already promised to never kill again, already promised to change for her, and Christine believed him.

"Go on," she said after a few moments of his eyes wandering over her face.

Erik raised his exposed brow then continued, "A full year in Persia passed by and I was growing rather bored of my ventures, so I came back to Paris, back to the familiar labyrinth that I called my home for so many years. During the night, I stole onto the stage and would borrow props and furniture to build a true home for myself. I must have crossed that lake hundreds of times transporting the various souvenirs I had taken with me. Then, I settled down, determined on dedicating the rest of my life to my music, to my Don Juan, hoping one day my works would be played across the world. I spent three long years in solitude, slowly building my reputation as the Opera Ghost. It would be dishonest for me to say that I didn't enjoy the reign I held over the opera house. Of course, I tried my best to not commit physical harm to anyone, though I am not without sin and I have resorted to doing so once or twice.

"Then you came along. You were so innocent, so malleable, yet I paid you no mind until I heard you sing. I was so enraged when everyone was comparing your voice to that of a rusty hinge. Fools, all of them!" he chuckled, "There was something seraphic about your voice, and I basked in the angelic tones you were producing and allowed them to penetrate my very soul, you were untrained but I could feel the raw talent, a rarity in my opinion and only at twelve years of age! Much like myself! It was then I knew that I was destined to be your teacher and you were destined to make my music known to the world. I had no idea how I was going to present myself to you, then I heard you praying in the chapel, begging your father to send you the Angel of Music–" Erik closed his eyes and sat still for several seconds.

Christine shook him, not wanting him to stop his tale, "Erik, please don't stop. Not now."

Erik nodded but kept his eyes closed, "I took advantage of your grief, Christine. My own selfishness and refusal to let anyone see me–I will never do such a vile act of deceit again. I'm so sorry for what I have done to you, my love. If you never forgive me, I will not blame you."

Christine stroked Erik's cheek, "It's alright, you are forgiven. Thank you for sharing this with me. You have done terrible things, Erik, but you were hurt so badly by those who were supposed to love you. It's no wonder no one understands, because they are not you. They have never had the misfortune of experiencing what you have," she whispered, then she placed a light kiss on his chin.

"Oh, Christine, I love you," Erik breathed through sobs, his entire body shaking.

Christine wiped his tears away, catching each one with her thumbs, then Erik opened his eyes. His breath was hot and sweet against Christine's face and she felt a fluttering within her stomach.

"Erik, I have a question if you would allow it."

He simply nodded, and kissed her hands, planting hot kisses along her fingers and knuckles.

"How long have you loved me?" she asked, remembering her first encounter with Erik. He had come to her in the chapel where they practiced for years afterwards. Had he loved her then? When she was a child?

Erik looked down, his eyes evading hers, "Do you remember the night before your nineteenth birthday? After our lesson, I stayed for a while as I always did that one night a year so I could be sure no one would see me when I left your gift with your father's photo."

"The roses," Christine interrupted.

"Yes, the roses. I wish I could have done more for you, but all of my supplies were gathered by Madame Giry, and if I was giving you other items, she surely wouldn't have allowed our lessons to continue," he whispered, then shifted to pull her against his chest. "I was standing behind the wall, waiting for complete silence when I heard quiet footsteps on the stairs, then you were speaking to your father's photo."

A gasp escaped Christine's lips when she remembered the one-sided conversation that night.

xXx

Father, thank you for sending me the Angel of Music as you promised. I feared I would be alone without you, feared that I would never feel my heart whole again. He has filled my soul with music and has been so kind just as you once were. His presence has been the only thing keeping you alive in my mind, and I never wish to lose him.

So, I have decided on something and I hope you approve. I wish to promise my devotion to him, to the Angel of Music, father. I am finally ready, after all these years, to see him and to touch him. He has truly been the greatest gift you have ever given to me. His knowledge of music is astounding, he is so intelligent, so sweet…

Though sometimes, he can be rather brash, but that's only when I make mistakes during our lessons. We often sit and talk a while afterwards and he listens so intently. He deserves devotion, he deserves my devotion. So, I leave this with you, father, to deliver to him in Heaven, as a symbol of my everlasting faithfulness.

xXx

Christine swallowed hard, thinking back to the lock of hair she had left for her father to give to the Angel of Music. She felt tears slipping down her temple before falling on the blanket between them. Had she really forgotten how she had devoted herself to Erik?

"After you left, I took no time to be sure that no one was going to see me. I immediately went to the altar to see what you had left me. I nearly died when I found the lock of your hair waiting for me to claim. Hours, Christine, for hours, I stared at the gift you had left me. I was angry, I didn't deserve your devotion, but I had never in my life imagined anyone would give me something so precious. It was the first and last gift I had ever received and I still cherish it to this day," Erik said, and Christine watched as he dug into his coat pocket and pulled out a plain golden locket. He flipped it open to reveal the small tuft of hair that was curled within the gold.

"You kept it?" Christine asked. It was endearing, romantic and she felt absolutely cherished that he would still hold it dear to him after three years.

"It is my most treasured possession," he answered, closing the locket and tucking it safely into the pocket of his trousers.

"Oh, Erik," she was crying, her tears flowing so heavily that they wet her hair against his arm.

His fingers trailed across her cheekbone, before his thumb ran over her bottom lip, "I would very much like to kiss you again, if you would allow it," he murmured.

Christine found herself automatically nodding and his lips were on hers, parting instantly. A hand rested on the small of her back and pulled her body into his as his tongue pushed its way into her mouth. She let out a whimper when his other hand knotted into her hair. He tasted delightful, the saltiness of his tears combined with a faint hint of strawberries made her heart soar.

The edge of his mask dug into her cheek so she reached up and gently removed it, setting it behind her on the blanket. A deep groan reverberated into her mouth and Erik pressed harder against her, now able to deepen the kiss without the impeding barrier. She took one of her hands and ran her fingertips along the center of his chest, relishing in the feel of his skin against hers. God, she was burning for him again. She was a furnace and she needed him, far more intensely than she had the previous morning.

Dizziness overtook her and she was forced to break the kiss to catch her breath. They were both panting heavily, both trembling under the other's touch. After a moment, Erik shifted his hips away from her slightly, the brush of hardness barely touching her thigh. God, he was aroused just as he had been during their tryst in his room. He had nearly claimed her then, and she was going to let it happen. She was going to give him her virginity and allow him to stake claim to her body in every way possible. If only her own weakness hadn't come between them, perhaps they would be making love on the blanket, completely entranced by each other.

"Erik," she whispered, caressing his deformed cheek in her hand.

"Yes?" Erik questioned, his face was flushed and his breathing was returning at a steady pace.

"I'm awfully hungry, should we eat?" she didn't know what else to say, she was certain if she wasn't distracted within the next five minutes, she would give in to her urges.

"Of course, I prepared sandwiches. Wait here, I will fetch them," Erik said, removing his hand from the back of her neck and leaving her side. She was in quite the predicament with Erik, yet she had put herself there with the kiss at the piano. It was her fault and she had complicated everything, but it felt so right, like they were meant to be.

She breathed in the fresh air and it did wonders clearing her mind of her carnal desires to allow him to ravage her, to bury himself deep within her, but not yet. If she was going to sin, she wanted to be sure she loved the one she was sinning with. She had allowed too much to happen the day before, and had been so close to making a mistake that she surely would have regretted.

But, God, he was so gentle, so affectionate and so very respectful towards her, unlike the blatant flippancy given by both Raoul and Philippe, both of whom had taken advantage of her within moments of being alone together. During the two months she had spent with Erik, completely alone, he had not once touched her without consent. She felt he was a different man than the one who dragged her down to his subterranean home and threatened the life of the man she thought she loved.

A different man.

xXx

The rest of the picnic, Christine intently listened as Erik told her of his plans to restore the Opera Populaire, after all he said it was the least he could do after setting it aflame. He had already started the process of obtaining complete ownership of the theater and promised Christine it would only take a handful of years to restore. The thought of being able to walk the halls of her old home again, even perform on the stage, made her heart flutter. Perhaps, Erik would appoint her the lead soprano.

Erik opened up to Christine far more than she could fathom, sharing his dreams and what he liked and disliked. After he shared his past and she accepted him, he seemed to be more comfortable with her, even joining in her laughter and sharing the many odd things he had seen from inside the walls of the opera house.

For one, she learned that Meg had a secret relationship with one of the male dancers and Erik had happened upon them several times in areas that he could have sworn only he knew of. Christine would have to remember to ask Meg why she never told her.

After eating the sandwiches and drinking the rest of the tea Erik had prepared, he suggested they head back home as it was nearing time for their music lesson. Christine reluctantly agreed, not wanting to leave their oasis, not wanting to end their conversations that seemed to come more easily now.

When they arrived back home, Erik ushered her into the parlor insisting on having their music lesson immediately. Throughout their lesson, Christine noticed that Erik wasn't as brash as usual and he didn't raise his voice at her as he tended to do while instructing her.

He must be in an outstandingly good mood, Christine thought to herself.

At the conclusion of the final song, Christine felt extremely tired and was nearly falling asleep standing up. She didn't want to leave Erik though, but there was little possibility of her staying awake.

"Erik, I will be in my room if you need me, I am rather tired from the day," she said, hoping he wouldn't take offense.

Erik straightened his back and nodded, "Alright. I will retire soon as well."

Christine could have sworn she saw disappointment on his face, but she tried not to think about it. Instead, she planted a light kiss on his cheek and rushed up the stairs to her room. Once inside, she closed the door and turned, leaning back against the surface. Oh, god, she was so flustered from the day she spent with Erik.

It was nearing dark, so she decided to dress in a white sleeping gown and then she sat on the edge of her bed, brushing her hands through her curls.

Her fingers had found her mouth and she slowly traced her lips, reminiscing about how Erik had been so gentle with her today, how he had asked permission to kiss her. His lips were so soft on hers, so sweet and he tasted like Heaven. Oh, God and the way his obvious arousal brushed against her thigh.

Christine's stomach fluttered at the thought and she felt an overwhelming need to be near him again. To be held in his arms as she slept–she needed it, needed to be warm with him protecting her from the world. She recalled how his eyes sparkled when he saw her by the stables. God, the way his skin smelled and how soft his chest was, everything about him made her soul sing and she couldn't help but smile at the thought of running into his arms and hiding inside of him forever.

Do I love him? Christine questioned herself.

Surely not, no–but maybe, after all, she had never felt these feelings for anyone, not even Raoul. She never cared how Raoul looked at her, never ensured she looked her best for him, never desired him as much as she desired Erik.

You love him, a voice said in her mind.

Perhaps she was right to assume God had given her the strength and courage to love him. It felt like love, but could she have a life with him? Would she ever be able to have evening walks through the parks on Erik's arm? Make friends with other couples and host dinners? Surely, he wouldn't keep her from enjoying her life and having friends. Would he want to be a father?

The thought formed a lump in her throat and she fought hard to swallow it. He would assuredly be hesitant to the idea or even not want children at all but she would understand if he decided as such. After all, children may impede her dream to travel and sing all over the world with Erik by her side.

It was surely these unanswered questions that were stopping her from understanding her mixed feelings. The solution to her dilemma was simple. She would need to approach him with the matter.

She decided she would await him in his room and get the answers she needed, then ask him to spend the night with her so she wouldn't be alone. He had said he was going to bed soon anyways, so there was no need to head downstairs and interrupt whatever he may have been doing.

Christine stood and opened her bedroom door and crossed the hall, pushing Erik's door open. It was messy with multiple torn sheets of music spread on the floor. She busied herself picking them all up and stacked them in a neat pile on top of the small table in his room, then set the toppled chair back in place before sitting on the bench of his organ. She would await him there, not daring to sit on his bed yet.

She slid her fingers lightly over the keys, not knowing how any of them worked. Erik had never attempted to teach her to play, though she was sure if he had, she would not have taken to it easily. Her fingers were much too short and she heard longer fingers worked well on the keys, much like Erik's. She sat for what felt like hours before she heard footsteps from down the hall and she sat perfectly still, waiting for him to arrive.

The footsteps stopped suddenly and she sensed Erik behind her. She still didn't move, hoping he would come to her and take her in his arms.

Finally she broke the silence, not daring to look at him as she wasn't sure if he would be angry with her for intruding on his private space, "I would like to discuss some things with you."

She heard a shuffling sound then a soft clank as if he was setting something down. Suddenly, hands were on her shoulders and she reached up to meet them.

"Of course, my love," Erik assured her, giving her shoulders a light squeeze, then he was gone and she heard him sigh and looked over to see him sitting in the chair she had turned back over earlier. He had a glass of whisky in his hand, his gaze transfixed on the floor.

Christine shifted herself on the bench so she was facing him, "For one, I just wanted to ask you if you are certain you are done with–your past transgressions."

Erik let out a heavy exhale and looked into his glass, "Christine, if it makes you happy, I promise, I will never commit another crime in my life. Of course, that is unless someone is attempting to cause you bodily harm, then I hope you will understand if I break that promise."

Christine nodded slowly, "Also, if we were to have a life together, would we do the things normal couples do?"

"Define normal," Erik smirked, drinking the rest of his whisky then placing the glass on the table next to him.

"I was thinking of regular trips to Paris to visit Meg and Madame Giry, performing with me onstage one day, going to parties–" then she glanced up at him through her lashes, "Children." She studied Erik's face at the last word, hoping she hadn't pushed it too far.

"I may have my reservations with that last one, but yes, we can be normal," Erik gave her a small smile, "Of course, you must know that I will do anything in my power to make you happy, my love."

Christine looked away from him and down into her lap, "Yes, I know. Thank you."

"Of course," was all Erik said.

His answers were so perfect, so perfectly him. He was perfect with his beautiful eyes and lovely skin, his amazingly soft skin. The way he was staring at her from the chair, it was pure unadulterated love and finally she felt it too.

Christine loved him with her entire being. She loved so many things about him, how she would catch him staring at her, then quickly looking away, focusing his attention on a book or his music. How he would make any excuse to touch her, how he made music for her. How he longed to hear her sing for him. His reaction to her touch, the way he smiled at her for simply existing. How he held her so gently that night she fell into madness.

Tell him, she ordered herself, but she couldn't. Not yet. Being a hopeless romantic, she needed the perfect moment to confess her love. Perhaps, she would ask him to accompany her on a ride, or tell him during their music lesson in the evening.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" she asked. If she was to go back to her room, she would surely go insane yearning to be near him.

Erik nodded, a smile quivering on his lips, "I will not stop you from doing so."

"Thank you," Christine whispered, then she stood and moved to his bed, pulling back the red coverlet and nestling underneath it. The pillows were oddly uncomfortable, she would need to swap the ones from her bed on Erik's so he would be more comfortable.

Erik joined her, his scent filled her senses, and she felt her body fully relax. He slid his arms around her and pulled her closer to him and she buried her face in his neck. The scent of roses made her blood boil and she bit back a moan, not letting her perverse nature get the better of her. Instead, she simply tilted her head up and placed a light kiss on the lips of the man she loved before returning to his neck, then she drifted to sleep, his gentle singing filling her mind.

xXx

Author's Note: Christine eating the tart Erik took hours to make for her: watch?v=308XE1LRzJI

I decided to change up the ages a bit. Erik is 34. Christine is 22.