Christine let out another string of giggles as Erik pulled out their third bottle of wine with a flourish. She knew her tears would convince him to drink with her. She didn't exactly lie about being hurt, it was only… just a bit of an exaggeration, is all. Christine knew that Erik most likely thought she wasn't in the right state of mind to make any decisions at this moment and wished to see her off to bed, but she came down here for a purpose and she will fulfill it!

Erik poured two more glasses of wine for the both of them with such sensuality. The way his fingers curled around the bottle, or how he flicked his wrist when the glasses were filled to the brim! It warmed her even more than the alcohol thrumming in her blood.

Christine had known from almost the beginning of Erik's feelings for her, yet the man had yet to make a move. She had thought with the way she'd essentially moved in with him - something unspeakable with how improper it seemed - he would understand that their feelings matched, but for all his genius, the man was still dreadfully clueless. Mama Valerius did always warn her that a husband was a woman's first introduction to having children. It was only after meeting Erik that Christine was painfully aware of the truth in her words.

For months now, Christine tried to hint to Erik of her desire to court him. She recalled the unfortunate afternoon where she had asked her maestro to help correct her breathing. She thought it would be tantalizing, scandalous even, to have her angel's hands pressed against her abdomen and back. She imagined he'd trail his long, gloved fingers up her waist, just beneath her breast. Then, her breath would hitch and she'd tilt her head just so, and finally capture those loving, thin, misshapen and oh so desirable lips with her own! It would be perfect!

But instead, her Erik hadn't even touched her. In fact, he hadn't even left the piano! His tongue clicked in disappointment against his teeth as he began to lecture her, once again, on the importance of independent practice. And how could she forget all the hours they had put into perfecting her breathing or did she even wish to be prima donna because talent was not enough to warrant perfection or did she need to sit down, Christine, because her face looked quite red. It was a shameful, embarrassing afternoon - one where she both wished to bite his head and flee to never be seen again. Many weeks passed until she made her next attempt.

But tonight would be different, she could feel it in her bones. Every ill gotten attempt at seducing a man who was already in love with her led her to this moment. This fateful night in which her friends had suggested they share a bottle of wine and a box of chocolates, courtesy of one of Sorelli's admirers. It was when Sorelli spoke of all the - to be quite honest - disgusting things that she and Philippe had done after sharing a bottle of wine that the brilliant idea had popped into her.

A man intoxicated will reveal the truth of his feelings, and Erik was a man like no other.

He was the epitome of a man. Just the way he walked with such prowess back towards the sofa, where she now sat. How he moved with such virility, such raw animal magnetism! He set her heart aflame and she could almost scream with desire for him.

Christine tried her best to blink dolefully at him, only to grin in surprise as several Eriks flooded her vision. The night was going better than she could have ever imagined.

"For you, my dear." Erik held the glass out to her. Christine took it with a grin, brushing her fingers over his. She took a large gulp before moving her hand to the side, swirling the wine around in the glass. She pointedly ignored the way it splashed over onto her fingers and instead leaned her chest forward ever so slightly, recalling the way Sorelli showed the girls how to play the coquette.

Her eyes ravaged over the way his shirtsleeves had become looser and his black hair disheveled. She had never seen her maestro in such a state of undress before and she absolutely reveled in it. She wanted to run her hands up and down his sleeves but he was sitting much too far away at the opposite end of the sofa. "Erik," she pouted her lips, delighting in the way that his gaze flickered down. "Why are you sitting so far away from me? Don't you like sitting beside me?"

His eyes widened. He took another long swig of wine before answering, "Erik is sitting right beside his Christine."

"But when we read on the sofa, you are so much closer to me! Oh, angel, it's my only wish!"

"The beautiful Christine wishes to sit close to her poor Erik?"

He was talking in the third person again, she mused to herself. He must be very nervous. Or intoxicated. She hiccupped.

"I do, Erik." Christine moved closer, curling a hand around his forearm. "I really do."

She shifted on the cushions to flush her body next to his. They sometimes sat this close when he read to her and she wished to see the illustrations, but this was different! How she longed for each night to be like this, curled up beside him as a fire roared on. It was so romantic! And scandalous! Christine squirmed in her seat with a lazy smile, thinking of all the wondrously improper ways the night could end.

They sat in the quiet for a moment and Christine began to rest her head against his shoulder. It wasn't the most comfortable of positions - her Erik was a very bony man - but it was his shoulder and she grinned at the familiar rose and inky scent.

Erik had yet to move. She saw the whites of his knuckles as one hand clenched the fabric at his knee, the other still holding his glass of wine. The poor man must be terrified! To have never sat with a woman like this… Oh, she could just kiss him right now! Christine opened her mouth to say something, but Erik had quickly downed the rest of his glass and set it to the side with a clink.

"Would you like to be entertained, Christine?" he asked, face turned to her with a peculiar stare.

"What?"

He stood from the sofa with a little jump and whirled around to face her. Before she had even blinked, Erik displayed a large fan of cards in front of her. "Pick any card, my dear."

A magic trick! Christine gasped with a grin. Erik had shown her some tricks with his ventriloquism, but never any tricks like this. She felt as if a girl all over again, reminiscing on the nights when her father would pull a coin from behind her ear. Not for the first time, she marveled how he could make her feel both the giddiness of youth and assuredness of womanhood. Her heart pounded and her head felt light. The wine they'd been drinking did not leave her unaffected, but Christine felt more determined than ever to woo him.

Like a coquette, Christine pinched a card away from him and pulled out the King of Hearts. She stifled a gasp, a sign! He was the king of her heart and he didn't even know it! But he would soon and she would finally know his kiss! Another giggle pulled from her lips as she handed it back to him. "This one, Monsieur."

Erik delicately placed it back into the fold of cards. He stood taller, no longer with rigidity but with an air of confidence. It was endlessly alluring. Christine preened in her seat as she watched him shuffle the cards, seeing them fall and mix between his elegant fingers. They were so graceful and so long. So very very long. She grinned.

"Mademoiselle," Erik said with just the right amount of gravitas. "Is this your card?" He brandished the card out in front of her with a flick of his wrist.

Christine looked upon the King of Hearts and squealed with delight, clapping her hands. "Oh, Erik, you're like a real magician!"

His chuckle felt like she was floating on clouds. "Because I am one, dearest Christine," his voice came from her wine glass.

She gasped once again. "Oh no, Erik! You've fallen into my wine! I have to drink you now." She downed the rest of her wine, wondering what it would be like if Erik really was so tiny that he could fit inside her wine glass. She would carry him around everywhere she went. He'd fit in the palm of her hand and her lips would be the size of his face! Oh, she'd be able to kiss all of his terrible face with just one peck!

Suddenly another brilliant idea popped into her head. She just knew Erik would find this endlessly amusing. "Wait, wait, wait. Erik, let me try magic," she grinned. " Let me try. I have a really really good idea!"

"Oh?" Erik quirked an eyebrow, still hidden underneath his mask. "What magic do you have for me, my dear? Though, I dare say you are already magic itself," he purred. Oh, that man and his devilish tongue. She would have to ply him with wine more often, if it made him more loose with his compliments.

"It's a trick my papa taught me," she explained. Christine stood slowly and as gracefully as she could (she only stumbled once, thank you). She had to be quick because if he knew before her act, he wouldn't like it. But if he were to see after and that she thought it was funny then it would be perfect! Erik watched her curiously as she watched him intently, preparing for her next move. "Prepare to be amazed," she whispered. "For my next trick, I will make something… disappear!" Christine swiped her hand in front of his face, grinning madly. In her haste, the movement flung the mask off of his face. Christine paid it no mind, presenting her hand with her thumb pinched between her fingers. "I've got your nose!"

She waited proudly for his applause and laughter.

"Christine!" Erik let out a terrible wail, falling to his knees. He was not laughing at all. "Why would you do that?" He buried his face into her skirts and, to her horror, began to weep. "Was once not enough? Must you curse yourself to look upon the monster again?"

Christine gasped. What had she done?! She made him think she took a nose that was never even there! "Oh, Erik! Oh no! I'll give it back!" She tried to smush her palm into his face but he swatted away her attempts.

Erik glared up at her, ignoring the fat tears that rolled down his sallow cheeks. "You foolish child, is it not enough to tempt your Erik so? Must you then remind him of his hideousness? Must you remind him why he cannot live as a normal man?" Erik covered his face again and started his sobs anew.

"It was meant to be a joke," she cried, kneeling in front of him. Oh, this was horrible! He hated her! He would never kiss her now! Christine gently tried to pull Erik's hands from his face.

He snatched her wrists with a scowl. "So you mock me?"

"You were supposed to laugh but you're crying and mad at me and now I want to cry and everything's ruined!" Christine couldn't help the tears that had sprung from seemingly nowhere. What a fool she'd been. She wasn't an incredible magician like him. She couldn't make cards appear or turn into wine glasses. She had the whole night planned out and now the whole thing was ruined all because of a nose!

Yet Christine failed to remember just how persuasive her feminine charms prevailed against the mighty opera ghost. Each tear she cried turned his anger into soft coos to soothe her. Erik reached to hold her in an embrace.

"There, there Christine. Hush child, do not cry," his voice called to her softly. "You know how it pains me to see you upset."

"I don't want you to be angry," she moaned. "I just wanted to make you laugh."

"Christine, dearest, must you remind your Erik of what a monster he is? Am I not allowed to share a drink with you like any other man? You would not mention your boy's nose were you with him!"

"But don't you see?" she sniffed. "I don't want his nose. I want your no nose. Yes nose means no Erik and I would take a thousand no noses if I could have just one Erik." She willed him to see how much his face didn't matter to her. How much she actually wanted him, no nose and all!

Erik met her gaze in awe, desperately clutching to the fabric of her dress. "Oh, Christine," he whispered. "You would truly look upon this hideous semblance of a face? How can you bear it?"

"Listen to me, Erik." Christine grabbed his cheeks in what should have been a caress but was more of a harsh smooshing. "Listen. Erik. Your face… it's not… well, you know. But your face… it's my face. Do you hear me? My face. So we're gonna take your mask," she said, pointing to where it had flung across the room, "and leave it all the way over there! Because I don't want it! I want my face!" Her chest flared with righteous determination. She would prove to him that she loved him and all of him! Besides, Christine could think of some benefits to him not having a nose to get in the way, but she didn't want to scare him just yet.

Erik dissolved into tears, collapsing in their embrace. "Oh, Christine! Sweet Christine! How could you dare look upon my face with anything other than horror! Christine, my Christine, it is you who are the angel!"

Christine hugged him back fiercely. "And you are my angel." All was right in the world once again.

It was bliss, feeling his arms wrapped around her. The heat of the fire licked at her back and she snuggled further into her angel's arms. It was so peaceful, listening to the fire's dull roar and Erik's soft measured breaths. She could have easily fallen asleep if it weren't for the hiccups that kept jostling their embrace.

"I keep hiccupping like a frog," Christine giggled.

"And you are the best frog, Christine, so beautiful, so powerful. My little froglet."

"Would you still want me if I was a frog?"

"Always, Christine, always," he answered. "I would build you the grandest palace any amphibian had ever dared set their eyes upon. You would have fountains and flies and the most beautiful Lilypad to rest your pretty little frog head."

"And how would you turn me from a frog to a princess?" she giggled again. "Would you kiss me like the storybooks?"

"I would do whatever it takes, my Christine."

"Oh, maybe I'm a frog right now! Carlotta always calls me one. Well, a toad I mean."

"What?" Erik shrieked. He pulled back in their embrace to examine her critically. "She dares to disparage you? My Christine?"

She blinked. "Only sometimes during rehearsal!"

"This cannot stand! I will not have some great lout discredit my muse and tarnish your reputation as the world's greatest diva!"

"She has been rather annoying as of late," Christine agreed.

"Christine, my dearest, my heart, my love, you must allow me to do something to defend your honor. You are no toad!"

"Oh, Erik, I know I asked you to stop meddling with the casting and you've kept true to your promise, but perhaps we could…"

"Christine," Erik practically purred. "Does my diva wish to try her hand at being a ghost?'

She pouted her lips. "Only if my maestro were there to teach me."

"That can be arranged."