(Warning: Erik gets a little creepy in this chapter.)

Christine's Point Of View

I finished putting Marguerite to bed and went downstairs to meet Erik. "Did you have fun tonight, angel?" He asked. "I did, Erik. I must ask, are you still living underneath the Opera House?"

His face fell. "Yes. Yes I am." "If you'd like, you can live here with us." I offered him. He chuckled. "I would love to, but that isn't a very good idea. I have to make sure that the theater is running, and besides..." I noticed his eyes looking at the door of Marguerite's bedroom. "If I were to live here, some people wouldn't be able to sleep soundly."

That was true.

I sighed. "Alright then, Erik. When shall I see you again?" "Well, I am not sure, my dear. I am currently selecting the next opera for the Palais Garnier to preform, and when I am finished with my work I shall find you." I pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I shall see you then, angel."

Marguerite's point of view

The next morning I woke up to a note on my bedside table:

My dearest darling,

Unfortunately I will have to be out all day. I am terribly sorry, but my boss is threatening to discard me if I do not take this shift. I shall see you in the evening. Be good.

Love, mother.

I sighed. While it was not uncommon for my mother to work for a full day, and I had adjusted to being alone, a part of me still missed her while she was out. "I ought to find something to eat," I murmured, forcing myself out of bed and over to my closet to change.

A little while later, I had finished with the cleaning and had decided to engross myself in one of mother's books. She had a decently-sized collection of books, which she kept in her bedroom. Often I would take one or two of them and read them during the day when I'd finished my chores. She didn't seem to mind my taking them, or at least hadn't said anything if she did. I settled down into the soft folds of my mother's bed and dove into the first chapter of H.G Wells's The Time Machine, escaping from the cruelty and harshness of the world I lived in and into the world the book painted.

After a few hours, I was completely lost in the author's world of Weena and the Time Traveler, the Eloi, and the Murlocks. My eyes danced across the pages of the book, soaking up the words like a cloth to water. It felt like I could have been in this state of mind for-ever, if not for the sound of someone's knuckles rapping against wood. The infernal sound snapped me out of my head and back into the present, where whoever was making it wanted me to open up the door.

I groaned angrily, put down the book, and went to answer the door. Why can't people allow me to read in peace? This had better not take very long.

As soon as I opened the door, I immediately wanted to slam it as hard as I could. "Oh, it's you."

Erik sighed. "Yes, it is me. Now then, is your mother here?"

"No." Go to hell. I tried to slam the door closed, but he managed to block it with his foot. "It isn't very lady-like of you to swear, darling."

"I said nothing of the sort," I hissed at him. He sighed. "May I please come inside, child?"

I did not want to let him in, but his tone of voice made it clear that he was not going to take "No" for an answer. "Oh, fine. Come inside."

He came inside and took off his cloak, tossing it onto the coat hanger. It was only then that I saw just how tall Erik was. His body seemed to tower over mine, and it became clear to me that he could break me in an instant. Compared to him I was nothing more than a delicate porcelain doll, much like Angelique. Perhaps that is why he thought to give her to me.

"Now then, child, where is your mother?"

"She is working, and she will be out until tonight." Mother worked as both a washerwoman and a tailor in order for us both to eat every day and to avoid having to do particularly disgusting things I would prefer not to mention.

Erik looked a little confused. "And who exactly is taking care of you? Surely someone must be watching you." "No. I am here by myself." He looked shocked. "Y-you stay here everyday? On your own?" I sighed. "Yes, my mother cannot afford to stay here or to hire anyone to take care of me. Or to send me to school."

He shook his head, and he seemed to be disappointed in my mother. "Well, I'm not sure if I want you here all by yourself. What if someone tries to hurt you?" "I am fine. In fact, I like being alone. Now then, why have you come here?"

Erik chuckled. "Well, if you must know, I planned to take your mother to the Paris Opera Ballet today. But seeing as she is out, and seeing as you are not doing anything, by the looks of it, and could use someone to watch you, perhaps I ought to take you instead."

No. "Oh, I-I couldn't possibly, I have to stay here and make sure nothing happens..." He raised his hands to stop my speaking. "Child, I will not have you here all by yourself. You are coming with me, and that is final. Now go to your bedroom and change into more proper clothing."

*****

I angrily stormed into my bedroom and slammed the door. "What on earth is wrong with being alone? Perhaps I like being alone!" Slamming my closet door open, I skimmed my eyes over the few dresses I owned and tried to see if any of them could be considered "Proper."   The only truly "proper" dress I could see was the gown I had worn to the ball the night before, and I did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me in it.

I decided I would have to look in my mother's closet, knowing that she kept an old trunk with the clothing she wore as a child. Pulling it out, I began desperately pulling clothes out looking for something I could wear. Eventually I found an old lace dress which appeared to be my size. This will do, I decided. I hope mother doesn't mind.

(A/N: The picture at the top is her in the dress)

I decided to put on a little of my mother's face powder and lipstick in case I saw Christian while we were out. After putting my mother's book into my bedroom to finish later, I went back downstairs to see Erik waiting. As soon as he saw me, his eyes seemed to fill with a kind of sick hunger. I noticed him eyeing me. "Erm, Erik?"

He shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts. "I apologize, my little angel, that dress... i-it makes you look exactly like your mother."

'YOUR' little angel?!?! Since when? And I must remember to never wear mother's clothes around him again. I raised my hand in order to smack the uncovered side of his face, but before it could land, he grabbed it tightly and brought it his lips to press a gentle line of kisses to it.

"Please do not misbehave, child. This will be fun for you, but only if you do exactly as I say."

For fear of sparking a flame of anger within him, I nodded and allowed him to hold my shaking hand.

"Now we begin, my little child."

(A/N: I hope you liked that! Also sorry if Erik's behavior towards Marguerite near the end made you a little uncomfortable. The reason he did this is because looking at her in Christine's clothes triggered his uncontrollable lust for Christine, since they look so similar. I hope no one minds! He  is into Christine, not Marguerite. He simply gets reminded of Christine by Marguerite sometimes. I hope that's ok with everyone!

Also happy late birthday to @FrancesDaaeBlue21

Have a great day y'all! Please LMK what you think of this chapter, and don't afraid to be honest with me :D)

(A/N One more update: This story has reached NUMBER ONE in the tag Opera, beating over a thousand other books. It probably won' t be there for long, but thank you so so so much everyone! :D)