Chapter 2

Four months passed, and Erik and Christine became very close. They would see each other as often as possible, though it was difficult. They had to keep their relationship a secret, and it was getting decidedly harder for Christine to slip away in the night to sleep by Erik's side and in the day just to see him. The other members of the ballet corps were starting to suspect that she had taken a lover, and would tease her about it. Christine would just deny that she had given herself away, since she technically had not, at least how they meant it. She just went about her business as if nothing had been said.

As she descended the stairs of the labyrinthine passageways, she smiled as passionate violin music floated delicately into her ears. Erik would never do anything half way. He always put his entire soul into his music, and anyone could hear that from the way he skillfully drew the best, richest sound out of any instrument that was placed in the care of his talented hands.

Christine entered Erik's home to find him with his eyes closed, swaying in time to the music that was flowing from the beautifully crafted instrument. She did not disturb him, rather, she sat on a big armchair by the fireplace, watching her musical genius with awe and adoration. His song was sad, but strangely comforting. Eventually, the music lulled her into a warm, comfortable, half-asleep state. She only vaguely noticed when the music ceased altogether.

"Christine, when did you arrive?" Erik asked when he had opened his eyes. It always amazed him how absorbed he could become in his music. It was almost as if the rest of the world ceased to exist. Christine only murmured a sleepy "hmm?" so he walked over and placed a soft kiss on her lips. That woke her up instantly.

"Are you tired, mon chere?" Erik asked affectionately.

"Just a little. It was your music that put me to sleep." Her eyes widened and she placed her hand over her mouth, realizing the ways in which he could take what she had just said. "Not that it was boring," she said, trying to hide a smile. "I didn't mean it that way."

"Didn't you?" he asked, feigning annoyance. "I think that you did. I believe that you should be punished for that statement."

"Punished?" she asked, her smile leaving her face.

"Yes. I do not think that I will sing for you tonight. I think that I will just go to bed, and you may read if you wish."

"Erik…"

"No, Christine. If my music is that dull, I do not see any reason to sing for you." His tone was very serious, but his eyes were sparkling with laughter.

Christine saw the look in his eyes, and her smile returned. She stood up and sauntered over to Erik, whose eyes widened at the look on her face.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing," she said saucily, walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. She kissed his cheek and ran her hands up and down his back. "Please Erik, sing for me," she whispered, looking at him through half-closed eyes.

Erik swallowed hard. Christine had never acted like this before. He felt himself reacting to her touch and to her words. He had always managed to keep himself in check when he was around her, but his resolve had been weakening as of late. Her casual touches and innocent caresses were becoming more bold, and her touch now was anything but casual or innocent.

"Christine…" he murmured before leaning down and capturing her lips in a slow, passionate kiss. His hands settled on her waist, pulling her as close to himself as possible. All thoughts escaped his mind save the feeling of Christine in his arms. Her arms snaked around his neck and deepened the kiss considerably. Erik reveled in the low, sensuous moans that emitted from her throat. It still amazed him that he could cause her to produce such sounds. Actually, it still amazed him that she was here with him at all.

Christine was in heaven… or something relatively close. She loved the feeling of her lips against his. There really was no better feeling. Well, there was if she believed what some of the other chorus girls and dancers told her. But that sounded a bit scary, not pleasurable.

That wouldn't stop her from having a bit of fun, though.

Going on instinct and gossip, Christine left the bliss of Erik's lips to trail kisses along his jaw line and down to his neck. She felt him draw in a sharp breath at the contact of her lips on his neck and pull away.

"That is not a good idea," he said huskily. She looked up to see his eyes clouded with desire. It was not the first time that she had seen the look in his very expressive eyes. "Besides," he said with a smirk, "you are being punished. You are not allowed to take advantage of me."

"Take advantage of you?" she asked innocently. "I would not think of doing such a thing." Her wide-eyed look made him laugh.

"Christine, we both know what you were doing. But I still will not sing for you."

"I…" She did not know what to say, so she just pouted. Erik laughed and ran his thumb over her protruding lower lip.

"As endearing as you look, mon ange, pouting is not very becoming." But very appropriate for kissing, he thought, bringing his lips to hers once more.

This time, he was the one to deepen the kiss, semi-consciously walking them toward the sofa. When they got there, Erik sat down on the couch, pulling Christine down onto his lap without breaking the kiss. When he slipped his tongue into her mouth, he was rewarded with another moan. He loved that sound. She somehow managed to make that single sound so very musical and beautiful, yet erotic at the same time.

Christine leaned toward Erik, eliminating all space between them. Letting instinct guide her, she pushed him down so that she was lying on top of him, practically straddling him and never breaking the kiss.

Erik's eyes sprung open as another part of him sprung to attention. She had no idea what she was doing to him. The right thing to do now would be to stop this before it got any further, but he didn't. Kissing wouldn't do any harm, right?

Christine was in a state of bliss kissing Erik… except for the fact that that troublesome mask kept squishing her nose. She had put up with it for four months, mostly because she didn't want to cause trouble, and she knew how touchy he was about people even asking about it, but it was really getting annoying. Maybe if she just took it off while they were kissing, he wouldn't notice. She knew that whatever his face looked like, she wouldn't care, because she loved him for him, not his face. He just needed to realize that.

She slowly brought her hands up into his hair, reaching for the ribbon that kept his mask in place and untying it. Then she slid her hands to the sides of his face, still kissing him deeply, and slowly started to remove the mask.

Erik felt something sliding on his face, but it didn't register what was happening until it was too late.

"Damn it, Christine!" Erik yelled suddenly, sitting up and sending her -and his mask- tumbling unceremoniously to the floor. Keeping his face from her view, he quickly got up and left, leaving a stunned Christine behind. He slammed to door to his room, locked it, and slid down against it until he was sitting on the floor.

How dare she take his mask off? She didn't even ask first. Not that he would have let her do it anyways, but still. Now that she had caught a glimpse of his horrid face, she would never want to come near him again. The thought saddened him greatly. To lose all that he had gained would kill him. He could never be truly happy, and on the few occasions that he got close, he paid for it dearly.

A knock on the door startled him. Why had she not left yet?

"Erik, please let me in," Christine called through the door. Her voice sounded strained, as if she was holding back tears-- or fear.

"Why?" he responded bitterly. "You had your look at my face, so now you can leave me alone. Do not stay despite your fear."

"I love you, you know that. Part of loving someone is loving their flaws, internal and external. I do not fear you, and I never could."

He shook his head at her statement, getting angry with her. She had no idea what she was telling him-- or what she was really getting herself into if she spoke the truth. He stood up and opened the door, fighting the urge to hide his face from the woman he loved.

"Can you honestly look at my face and tell me that you love me, Christine? That you do not fear what I am?" he hissed quietly. He couldn't bear to look at her, so he directed his gaze at the floor, pretending that he found it very interesting.

"And what exactly are you, Erik?" Christine asked gently.

"I am a monster, a freak. I am not worthy of love. I am only fit to be in a gypsy's freak show. I am one to be feared. I am the horrid Opera Ghost who is so hideous that he must live in isolation below the opera house and make his living scaring others into submission. Take your pick; I could go on for a while," he growled, his voice bitter and sarcastic.

"Oh, Erik," Christine whispered, stepping closer to him and placing her hand on his face. He looked up sharply, meeting her sorrowful gaze. She smiled before drawing his head down and kissing him. He pulled back almost instantly.

"Don't," he said sharply, backing away, though all of his instincts told him to hold her tight and never let go.

"Do you know what I see?" she asked him quietly, sounding a bit hurt by his multiple rejections. "I see a great musician who has been misjudged due to a cruel twist of fate. I see a kind, compassionate man who I adore. I see a man who deserves all the love in the world and more."

Without another word, she embraced him, holding on for dear life. Erik was speechless. She honestly did not seem to care what he looked like. She was looking at him without fear.

"I love you so much," Erik whispered, burying his face into her hair. He was choking back sobs, and Christine noticed, rubbing his back and making comforting noises.

"Shh. It's okay. I'm here," she whispered.

She gently untangled herself from his arms and led him back to the couch, where they both sat. Erik curled himself back into the comfort of Christine's embrace, feeling strangely at ease. He had never before experienced complete and total love from another person, but he felt engulfed in it now. He knew now, more than ever, that Christine truly loved him for who he was. Not a monster, not an angel, just an ordinary man.

He lifted his head to capture her lips in a tender, loving kiss. There was no hurried passion, just the comfort of knowing that they would always be there for each other.

Erik gathered Christine in his arms and stood up, breaking their kiss only for a few seconds. Then he walked into Christine's room and lovingly placed her in the bed, climbing in beside her.

"I don't deserve you," he muttered, his voice rough and hoarse from tears unshed. "You are an angel on Earth compared to me." Christine turned and wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on his chest.

"Shh. Don't say things against yourself. I am no more an angel than you are, Monsieur 'Ange de Musique.'" She lifted her head and smiled at him, caressing the corner of his mouth with her thumb until he gave her a small smile. "I love you," she said, kissing him softly.

"I love you too," he murmured against her mouth. They kissed slowly, enjoying each other's closeness. Then they lay together, finally falling asleep in the other's embrace. Each of them felt content and safe, and most importantly of all, completely loved.

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"La leçon la plus importante à apprendre est aimer quelqu'un et pour gagner leur amour dans retour."

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return."

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