Author's Note: I had such a hard time writing this chapter and I'm not sure if I am completely happy with it, but I can't edit it anymore. It's eating me from the inside out.

Chapter 12-Complication

There were far too many dresses to choose from and Christine couldn't decide if she wanted to wear periwinkle or pink blush. Her mind was on which one Erik would like the most, which one would make him look at her as he did at the stables when he took her on the picnic. She absently scratched her arm then took both dresses from their hooks and crossed to the full-length mirror that sat against the wall next to her bedside. She alternated between holding the dresses against herself and examining which one would look best on her, and found that the periwinkle did wonders for her skin tone and the scooping neckline was sure to make her breasts look enticing.

She quickly dressed, disregarding her need for a corset as she did every day since she first arrived and her pantalettes, for other reasons, of course. Not that she was expecting Erik to take her again, but if it were to happen, pantalettes would surely be a barrier she had no desire to allow to impede his access to her.

Her mind wandered to their second union and she swallowed hard, trying not to let herself become too heated. He had taken her with such vigor and the sheer tempo of the act was so pleasurable that she felt as if she would explode. The orgasm she had experienced was by far the most intense and quickest she had ever had and she wanted to experience the feeling again. An ache formed within her once again and she clamped her thighs together, trying to drown out her thoughts so she could continue getting ready. After all, the sooner she arrived in the parlor, the sooner she would be rid of the ache.

With a smile, she sat at her vanity to brush through her hair. It was horrendously knotted and after several minutes of yanking the brush through the curls, she sighed and set it down, resigning to have messy hair for the day. Erik surely wouldn't mind, perhaps he would even be willing to help her comb her hair since she no longer had Meg to assist her with it.

Once Christine was satisfied enough with her appearance, she headed for the parlor and attempted to soothe her nerves on the way. She was far too excited to see Erik again, though they had only been apart for less than twenty minutes. Every time she was away from him, she felt as if her heart would burst from the pain of his absence.

At the bottom of the stairs, she paused and ran her hands down the front of her dress, being sure that it wasn't wrinkled or out of place then she entered the parlor.

Erik stood near the fireplace with his back to her, seemingly looking at the large painting that hung on the wall. She observed him for a minute or two, not wanting to interrupt his enjoyment of the artwork. He shifted on his feet several times and she could hear his deep heavy breaths. Perhaps the painting was so interesting that it took his breath away.

Christine felt her patience wearing thin, she needed to see the face of the man she loved. She took a step forward and cleared her throat.

Erik turned towards her with a surprised look on his face. It was rather theatrical, almost as if he had falsified surprise. He must have heard her on the stairs. She noticed he was far too overdressed, wearing a full suit as well as a cravat. He never put on so much clothing unless he was going to the city.

His lips turned up in a smile and he took a few steps towards her, stopping just a foot away. He looked down at her as if she were the very force giving him life and his eyes scanned her body, stopping at her breasts.

"You look ravishing, my dear," he whispered, his eyes still glued to her bosom.

"Thank you," she muttered, twisting her hands behind her back nervously and purposefully breathing deeply to swell her chest.

Perhaps he would take her if she enticed him enough, so she ran her hand down his chest and rested it on his abdomen directly above the band of his trousers. His eyes flickered up to hers and she saw a primal lust flit behind them and she knew she had won, but before she could move her hand farther down, he clasped it in his own and kissed her knuckles. Heat engulfed her face and she turned her face away from him.

"You truly take my breath away," Erik breathed against her hand.

Had she been wrong? Did he not want to make love to her again? No, he wanted to, she was sure of it. The look in his eyes was unmistakable, it was a deep hunger.

Her blush deepened, "You flatter me, I know for a fact my hair looks atrocious today."

"That may be so, perhaps I can be of assistance later," he said as he released her hand to run his over her disheveled hair.

Christine nodded, "I was already thinking of asking you if you would help me. Meg used to do my hair for me and after this morning–" she swallowed hard and looked away from him, "What plans have you made for the evening?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw him wipe away a smirk. Her stomach started fluttering and the ache between her thighs became almost unbearable. She bit her lip and imagined his hands delving beneath her skirts to please her. He would surely be amused to find she was completely bare for him. It would be so easy for him to take her without the need to be rid of all clothing, perhaps even on the table in the hallway as he mentioned it would be put to good use in the future.

"I was hoping we could discuss an important matter. Just for a moment, if you don't mind," he whispered, taking her chin in his fingers and turning her face back towards him.

In an instant, fear washed over Christine and she started thinking of what this important matter may have been. Had she done something to upset him? Had she done something wrong during their union? She thought hard about what had transpired that may have been offensive to him, but nothing came to mind.

"Yes, of course," she said meekly, trying to hide any worry in her voice.

Erik let out a heavy breath and took her left hand, holding it tightly. His palms were damp and he was trembling quite a bit, his breaths were shaky and uneven. He stared at the hand he held and blinked rapidly before clearing his throat.

Was he nervous about something? Surely he had nothing to be nervous about, not after what had transpired during their morning together. Everything was bared, nothing held back so there was little possibility that he would be worried about something in regards to that. Was he leaving her? Was that why he was wearing so much clothing?

No, don't think like that, she scolded herself, knowing she was getting far too ahead of herself for her own good.

"Well, as you already–" Erik paused to clear his throat again, "as you already know, I–I have loved you for years and seeing that you love me as well, I figured–" he paused again and his face blanched.

Oh, God, he was going to propose! Of course that would be why he was nervous and fumbling over his own words. She cursed herself for not taking more time with her hair, but there was little she could do with it now.

Christine knew a proposal so early in their relationship was rather odd, but she had already devoted herself to him, let him claim her body and confessed her love. She knew she was going to marry Erik eventually. She would never accept another man, not while the one she desired most stood before her and was going to propose.

"Yes?" she pressed, hoping her assumption was correct.

Erik lifted his face to look at her, "I would like to say, if I haven't already, that you are very beautiful in this dress, my love."

"Is that what you wanted to speak about? My dress?" she whispered, a hint of disappointment in her tone.

Confusion clouded her mind, after all she was expecting a far different conversation. She forced a smile and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, trying not to let herself cry. But, she wanted to. She wanted to run to her room and lock herself inside and cry for hours. How foolish of her to think Erik would propose so soon!

He nodded quickly, "Yes, the dress. That's what I wanted to speak to you about. It's lovely."

"Yes, you have said so already, three times now," she muttered, peeking back up at him.

Erik's gaze avoided hers and darted around the room behind her. His breathing was heavier than before, even his hand that still held hers was becoming more clammy each passing second. He was lying. This wasn't about her dress.

Hope ignited inside of her once again and Christine attempted to catch his gaze, "Are you certain this is about my dress? It there nothing else you wish to speak about?"

"Yes, I–" he whispered, then he squeezed his eyes shut and mumbled under his breath, "Actually, no, I have something to ask you. I am just finding myself rather flustered at the moment, that's all."

"It's alright, take your time," she assured him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze to let him know she meant it.

He opened his eyes and focused them on their joined hands, taking in a deep breath, "Christine, I would like to say that these past months with you have been the best of my entire life and it would please me greatly if you would grace me with your presence for the rest of it."

"Of course," she whispered, "I already promised I will never leave your side."

"Very well," he breathed, as he loosened his cravat and cleared his throat for a third time, "Christine, as a child, I used to pray to your god for my mother's love. I lost faith in that god after several years below ground, praying for someone, anyone to accept me as I was. After years of silence and self-loathing, an angel walked into my life, a beautiful angel, I might add," he chuckled and looked up into her eyes, "I wasn't sure what to make of you at first, but as time passed, I started feeling the emptiness within me become full of life, of love. When you agreed to stay with me, after everything I had put you through, all because you believed your god had answered your prayers, I thought you were deranged but I accepted it."

Christine couldn't help but laugh and Erik joined her. She could not argue that she may have been a little deranged during her decision to stay with him, but she was certain it was a correct assumption that God had answered her prayers given the circumstances she found herself in at that moment.

"I apologize for laughing, please continue," she said quickly, not wanting to ruin his train of thought.

"It's quite alright," he replied, placing a kiss on her hand before taking a deep breath, "Now, as we stand here, I do feel as if some entity has answered both of our prayers. You have shown me more compassion, more love, than my mother showed me in nine years in just a few hours. I fear I simply cannot live without your love ever again."

A lump formed in Christine's throat and her heart felt as if it was beating out of her chest. She breathed through her nose, trying to soothe herself as much as possible so she would be able to stay calm and not make a fool of herself.

Christine nearly fainted as she watched Erik gently lower himself onto his left knee in front of her and he dug in his pocket, pulling out a beautiful ring. The band was gold with an opal surrounded by tiny pearls set in the center. It was simple and perfect, something she would have chosen for herself.

"My love, my angel, my Christine, will you become my wife, will you marry me?" Erik whispered, staring up at her expectantly with adoration filling his eyes.

It took all of her willpower to not fling herself at him and kiss him until he couldn't breath. He was perfect, this was perfect, everything was perfect.

She nodded quickly, "Yes, Erik, yes, I'll marry you!"

Erik let out a heavy breath and laughed, "Oh, my Christine. You have truly made me the happiest man to ever walk this earth."

"I love you," she whispered as he slipped the ring onto her finger. She stared at it, the perfect engagement ring from the man she loved. It was much more beautiful than the first one she had received on two separate occasions from two very different men.

"And I love you," he replied as he rose from his knee.

Christine stretched up on her toes, and flung her arms around his neck, searching for his lips with hers. He smiled and bent his head down towards her and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was slow, languid, and lacking their usual desperation of clinging to each other's bodies. His hands moved to hold her neck and she parted her lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Their first kiss as an engaged couple.

Her first engagement hadn't gone as planned, even so, being engaged to Erik made her feel something entirely different than with Raoul. She felt excited to plan a wedding, excited to be married and proud that she would be called Erik's wife.

He pulled his lips away from hers and stared at her face with triumph, with an adoration that Christine thought might set her on fire. A deep laughter filled the room and he picked her up around the waist and spun her around a few times, crushing her body against him.

"Oh, Christine, I have dreamt of this moment for far too long," he breathed as he shoved his face into her neck, "My living bride."

Christine tightened her arms around him, "Ever since I was a little girl, I always dreamed of finding a handsome prince like all the women in my fairytale books. When my father died, I cast away such childish fantasies and decided to submit myself to a life of solitude. But, then you found me. I have to admit, I–I think I even loved you when I knew you only as an angel. I know it sounds ridiculous now that I'm saying it."

"No, it's not ridiculous, my love," he whispered, "Though, I must say, I do feel the need to apologize that your dream for a prince will never come true."

"You are my prince, Erik," she smiled, pulling him from her neck and cupping his face in her hands, "A most handsome prince that I am glad to call my own."

He rolled his eyes, almost too theatrically, "I believe it is you now who is doing the flattering."

"I speak only the truth," she pressed, placing a light kiss on his lips, "I wish you could see yourself through my eyes."

"That would be interesting to say the least," he agreed as he lowered her back to the floor.

His hands found her hips and he gave them a gentle squeeze before trailing one hand up her bodice and towards her breasts. A single finger ran up her bare skin exposed above the neckline of her dress. Her breath caught in her throat as his hand engulfed one of her breasts. The deep ache returned and she couldn't help but lean into his touch, pressing herself into his hand.

"Are you going to sing for me now?" she whispered, trying to control the shakiness of her voice.

"Actually, I have something else in mind," he said as his eyes darkened and he massaged her breast with more vigor.

She let out a shuddering breath and moved closer to him again, "Yes?"

He stooped his head down to hers and she automatically tilted her face up towards him, his hot breath setting fire to her skin. Both of his hands moved to her shoulders, his fingers slipping under the fabric and moving it downwards to expose more skin.

"It involves the removal of this dress," he breathed, his lips moving closer and closer to hers.

"A bath?" she questioned meekly.

Christine knew what he wanted as she wanted it as well, but she remembered how he had teased her as she laid open to him on his organ. It was only fair that she did the same to him.

Erik chuckled deeply and his lips caught hers, kissing her with more passion this time. It was filled with carnal desire and she couldn't help but let out a low moan into his mouth. Her fists knotted into the lapels of his coat and she pulled him closer, arching her body into him. She needed him and quickly, she could not wait any longer.

"My love, should we go to the room?" she asked, unsure if he had changed his mind about her deservanse of a bed.

"Too far away," he grumbled as he hooked his hands under her thighs and picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist.

Oh, God, he was just as impatient as she was, maybe even more so. She gasped when he hoisted her up farther, adjusting his hold on her. His eyes darted around, then his gaze fell on the kitchen, to the closest surface to them that was suitable enough for their needs.

"Are we going to have supper first?" she giggled as he set her on the counter next to the sink.

"Of a sort, yes," he mumbled, as he snaked his hands down to bunch up her skirts. She lifted her bottom and pulled the skirts behind her and the coldness of the tile counter on her bare skin sent a shiver up her spine.

Erik trailed his fingers up her thighs and looked at her with a wide grin on his face, "No pantalettes today, my love? Were you expecting this? Were you hoping that I wouldn't be able to resist you in such a dress?"

Heat engulfed her face and she turned away, "What would you say if I did not deny the accusation?"

He shuddered against her and removed his hands from her to unclasp his belt buckle, pulling his trousers down far enough to free his erect member from the fabric. She licked her lips as she watched him grasp it in his hand, then she scooted to the edge of the counter, leaning back on her elbow and spreading her legs wide open. A warm indication that she was ready to receive him.

"Damn these infernal things," Erik gumbled as he tugged at his cravat again, pulling it off completely then shedding himself of his coat as well, leaving only his black vest and white dress shirt. With a satisfied sigh he drew a finger up her slit and smiled, his eyes flicking up to her face.

"Hardly any preparation and you are already soaked, my love," he grasped the back of her neck roughly and pulled her face to his, "Tell me you want me, tell me you need me inside you."

She nodded quickly, her face blazing with need, "I need you, please."

He crushed his lips to hers, his hand guiding the tip of himself up and down her slickness. A groan filled her mouth as he pushed himself inside of her, stopping once he was at the hilt. He shuddered and leaned up, locking his eyes with hers.

"I will never tire of this feeling," he breathed, taking her left hand and pressing his lips against the ring that adorned her finger.

Suddenly he drew himself out and slammed back into her, her head fell back against the wall and she gripped the edge of the sink, though it was pointless as her hand slid from the smooth surface. She hooked her legs atop his hips in an attempt to stabilize herself, squeezing her eyes shut. His free hand moved to grip the top of her thigh, then he started his thrusts, long but slow unlike their second union. But, the feeling was no different in the moment. She was far too euphoric to care how fast he took her.

She opened her eyes and looked up at Erik. He was watching her intently, still holding her hand to his lips. The same lips that she wished she could kiss, but would the angle be impossible if she leaned up to kiss him? She shoved herself up and threw her arm around Erik's neck, pulling his face close to hers, so close their lips were touching.

A gasp escaped her lips when she settled into the new position and intense pleasure built quickly within her. Erik sped up his thrusts and grunted against her lips, digging his fingers into the flesh of her thigh. He released her hand and cupped the back of her neck, finally kissing her with a passion that would melt the sun. He shifted his hips against her and the angle changed ever so slightly and a harsher wave of pleasure overcame her.

"Oh my," she whimpered, digging her heels into his bottom in an attempt to deepen his thrusts and hit the point that reverberated with pleasure.

"Come for me, Christine," he rasped, tightening his hold on her thigh again.

"Harder, just a little, please," she begged, cupping his cheek with her hand and kissing him.

He panted into her mouth as he obeyed her command and her orgasm took her. Her muscles tightened around him and she lurched into his chest, pressing her body against him. No sound came from her lips other than strained moans which were drowned in his mouth. His hips snapped against hers, driving her through her release.

"Erik, oh, God, Erik," she cried out once she was able to speak.

After a few more thrusts, his rhythm became irregular and she felt him pulsing inside of her wet heat then warmth flooded her as Erik grunted her name against her lips. His hand loosened on her thigh and moved up to cup her cheek. He drew in panting breaths as he dotingly grazed his fingers along her jaw and pulled his face back.

Christine's breaths came in long and shuddering as she gazed up at him, the man who looked at her with such veneration she would think she was a saint in his eyes. He pulled her hand against his trembling lips and kissed each of her fingertips before placing a heavy kiss on the pulse point of her wrist.

"My beautiful bride," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her back and holding her tightly against his chest.

At that moment, Christine felt overwhelming contentment as the man she would soon call her husband enveloped her in his arms. Her perfect husband, the man that had loved her for years and would continue to do so for the rest of eternity.

xXx

"This one will be lovely, I am sure of it, my dear," the elderly seamstress assured Christine as she tightened the ties of the white gown.

Christine smiled timidly as she looked down at the floor of the dress shop. She had tried on several wedding dresses and none of them had made a good impression on her, but she had to hold out hope. Erik was most likely waiting for her at the stables and at any moment he could rush into the shop to check on her and she could not have him see her in any potential wedding dress.

"There, now, take a look," the seamstress urged, pushing her towards the large mirror for what felt like the millionth time.

Hopes were high even without looking at the dress as the fabric was much different than all the others. It wasn't scratchy or stiff, rather soft and flowy, just as she was looking for. Christine glanced up at her reflection in the mirror and let out a soft sigh.

It was perfect, just as she had always imagined herself to look on her wedding day. The gown was shockingly white with an off the shoulder neckline with ruffles falling from the hem of the quarter sleeves and down into a V to her waist. A thin material with more ruffles covered her chest and down to the center of her where the multi-layered skirts fell magnificently over the crinoline she wore underneath. It reminded her of the gown she wore during her final aria in Hannibal and she smiled, remembering her debut. How wonderful that night had been, and how it was the first night she had known Erik as a man.

Erik would love the dress, after all, he had told her mercilessly how lovely she had been on the stage that night. How lovely she had been in that dress.

"This is the one," Christine whispered, unable to take her eyes off her reflection.

The seamstress smiled and nodded, "I thought so. I have seen the faces of many a bride when they finally find the perfect dress and yours was the brightest I have ever seen."

"It's very beautiful," Christine breathed, her palms running over the fabric of the skirts.

"Your fiance is a lucky man, my dear, this dress has never looked so stunning on anyone," the seamstress smiled at Christine's reflection

"It is me who is the lucky one, now, how much is this one? I wish to purchase it," Christine asked, finally looking away from herself and to the woman.

"Your fiance has already paid for your dress, mademoiselle," the seamstress stated.

"How did he know which one I would choose?" Christine asked.

The seamstress laughed, "He asked the price of our most expensive dress and paid double. I hope this is not a problem."

"Of course not, do not worry yourself. It seems my fiance let it slip his mind that I would be paying for my dress," Christine grumbled, stepping away from the mirror. "I won't need any alterations, I wish to take it home today."

"Yes, I will get it all packed away," the seamstress said as she began undoing the ties of the dress.

By the time Christine had dressed in her normal attire, the wedding gown had been tucked away in a garment bag, which was large, but thankfully the fabric was lightweight so it was easy to carry.

"Thank you, I appreciate your kindness," Christine stated, holding the garment bag tightly against her chest.

"You are very welcome, we look forward to being of assistance in the future," the seamstress gave a small bow of her head.

Christine returned the gesture and left the shop to head back to the stables, back to Erik who she missed dearly. He had wanted to stay at the dress shop and help her choose a dress but she didn't want him to see it until their wedding day, so he agreed and went to do the rest of his shopping. The parchment and ink at home was running low and he was in dire need of more to continue writing his new opera which had been consuming a lot of his time, though she didn't mind. Whenever she needed his attention, he would drop what he was doing without hesitation. He had been such a loving and doting fiance, more than she deserved.

The francs she had been saving were meant for her dress, but given the circumstances of Erik having paid for it, they were now able to be used for other means. Perhaps she would purchase a gift for him. But, what would he enjoy? What did he need the most?

Just then, Christine walked past a storefront and a glittering caught her eye. She looked over and saw beautiful necklaces and rings. A jewelers shop. In that instant, she knew what he needed most, even if he became upset with her.

Christine turned back towards the door and stepped inside. The shop was filled with a labyrinth of glass cases all filled with various types of jewelry. Most pieces were rather gaudy, but some were magnificent. She moved towards the back of the shop, her eyes wandering as she walked and came upon a thin elderly man reading a book.

He looked up at her and smiled widely, "Hello, my dear, looking for anything in particular?"

She nodded, "Yes, a gift for my fiance. Do you have any pocket watches? He is terrible at keeping time and I would love to purchase one for him."

Numerous times Erik assumed the time of day and was usually hours off. It was rather amusing since he thought that with his time below the opera house had made him an expert at time keeping but he couldn't be more wrong. A pocket watch would be perfect for him.

The man laughed, "Yes, right this way."

He led her a few cases away to one that housed dozens of watches, each different shapes and sizes and each very beautiful.

"Your fiance is a lucky man to have a woman who would buy him one of my watches," he flashed a larger smile. "Do any of these look to be what he would like?"

Her eyes scanned the watches and all of them stood out to her, she had never seen such mastery before, "I'm not very good at making choices such as these, would you be able to help me?"

"Yes, why don't you tell me about your fiance, what clothes he wears, his interests, what makes him tick," he chuckled under his breath.

"Music, he loves music! And he is very tall, and he mostly wears black suits with a cloak and a mask–" she stopped herself. Erik's mask was hardly relevant to the type of watch he would carry around with him.

The man's eyes flickered down to her left hand and he nodded his head, "Just as I suspected. I know who you are, mademoiselle."

"You–you do?" she asked. How could this man know who she was? Her heart dropped at the thought of Raoul or Philippe finding her and she wanted to turn and run from the shop.

"That ring on your hand is one of mine. Your fiance purchased it just a month ago. It is one of my finest works," he said, "I must say, if you don't mind, his words of your beauty do not fall short. He is a very lucky man."

Relief washed over Christine and she blushed and looked away, "Thank you, and the ring is magnificent. Did you make my necklaces and earrings as well?"

"Yes, do you like them?" he asked, an expectant look on his face.

"They are all perfect, I have never imagined myself having so many pieces of jewelry," she whispered, finally looking back at the man.

"It makes me relieved that you enjoy them and now that I know the man we speak of, I have just the watch to suit him," he pulled one from the case and handed it to her.

She clutched the garment bag under one arm and took the watch. It was black with intricate carvings on the top of it and inside was a dark clock face. The simplicity of it was perfect for Erik and she knew she had to purchase it.

"How much for this one?" she asked, as she ran her fingers over the smooth glass.

"Fifty francs, my dear," he stated, watching her intently.

Christine pulled the money from her coin purse and handed it to him, "I will take it! I trust your expertise and thank you for your time."

"No, thank you, and do tell your fiance that I look forward to seeing him again," he gave her a polite nod.

"I will take my leave, he is waiting for me at the stables, thank you again," she said excitedly.

"You are very welcome, good evening, mademoiselle," he said before turning to walk back to his book.

Christine found it hard to contain her joy as she tucked the watch into her coin purse for safekeeping and left the shop. She had found the perfect gift for Erik and she knew that he had to love it since it was from her.

As she walked towards the outskirts of the city, she kept to the main streets, doing her best to comply with Erik's orders to not venture into the alleys. It was for her safety as he said and she didn't question it. She heard of what happened to women in the dark alleys of Paris and knew Lyon was not immune to such horrors.

She stared at the sky as she walked, imagining Erik's face when she would arrive at the stables. He would smile and take her in his arms, kissing her before helping her onto Beauty and taking her home. Once home, she would present him with his gift and hope he wouldn't be too offended.

Loud voices came from around the corner of a building two storefronts ahead of her but she thought nothing of it as she heard people arguing all throughout the city. When she arrived at the turn, she pulled her gaze from the sky to be sure she wouldn't collide with any unsuspecting walkers. She nearly toppled over from how fast she halted her steps and her heart starting pounding in her chest.

In front of her there was a man of medium stature, his light brown hair flowing to the base of his neck and he was dressed far too elegantly for an afternoon outing to the city. Luckily his back was to her, but she would know him anywhere as he plagued her nightmares. Plagued her life.

Philippe.

/

Author's Note: Cliffhanger time :)