The underground lake stretched before us, black as midnight silk, reflecting the countless candles that lined the stone walls. After our dramatic escape from above, the gentle lapping of water against the gondola created an almost hypnotic peace.

"Mother, I told you once, and I'll tell you a thousand times," I called up through the trap door, my voice echoing off the ancient stones. "I won't go back to that life. Cal is a monster, and you..." I hesitated, years of proper upbringing warring with truth. "You're just a prisoner of your own greed."

"Don't you dare speak to me that way!" Mother's voice was growing fainter. "You're coming home, and that's final!"

The words burst from my heart before I could stop them: "But Mother, I love him!"

The silence that followed was deafening. I felt Erik's hands tighten on the gondola's pole, though his face remained hidden in shadow. Without a word, he lifted me into the boat with the grace of a dancer, his touch lingering longer than necessary.

As we glided through the candlelit darkness, memories of another water journey flooded my mind – the Titanic's bow, Jack's arms around me, that feeling of flying. But this... this was different. This wasn't flying; this was falling, falling into something deeper and darker and somehow more real.

The music came to me then, not an opera aria or a classical piece, but something modern, something that spoke to my heart. My voice echoed off the stone walls, filling the cavernous space:

"Tall, dark, and beautiful
He's complicated, he's irrational
But I hope someday he'll take me away..."

I changed the lyrics slightly, making them ours, watching Erik's reaction in the flickering candlelight. His mask caught the golden glow, making him seem almost otherworldly.

"Something in his deep gold eyes has me singing
He's not all his reputation..."

Erik's hands never faltered on the pole, but I saw him tilt his head, listening intently. The modern song should have seemed out of place in his gothic domain, but somehow it fit – perhaps because it spoke of masks and misconceptions, of seeing beyond the surface to the truth beneath.

"I watch superman fly away
You've got a busy day today
Go save the world, I'll be around..."

As I sang, Erik began to hum harmonies beneath my melody, his rich voice weaving through mine like dark silk through silver. The combination of my contemporary song and his classical training created something entirely new – much like us.

"I'm far away but I'll never let you go
I'm lovestruck and looking out the window
Don't forget, don't forget where I'll be
Right here wishing the flowers were from you..."

The boat glided to a stop at his lair's shore, but neither of us moved to disembark. In the candlelight, surrounded by the music we'd created together, time seemed to stop.

"Because I loved you," I whispered the final words rather than sang them, "from the very first day..."

Erik's hand found mine in the darkness. "My dear," his voice was rough with emotion, "I believe you're rewriting my opera."

"Is that a problem?" I asked, heart pounding.

He lifted my hand to the exposed portion of his face, pressing my palm against his cheek. "On the contrary... it's the most beautiful revision I've ever heard."

Around us, the candles flickered, casting dancing shadows on the stone walls, and somewhere far above, my old life continued its proper, predictable path. But here in the darkness, with the Phantom of the Opera, I had never felt more alive.