An exhausting, yet blissful, week went by all too quickly. This week your hours of daylight had been spent finishing off the dormitories, and when you met with Monsieur Martin on Friday, scheduling the next round of deliveries.  The opera still needed so many things before it could be considered even remotely operational; bed linens, towels, gowns and costumes, food, buckets and buckets of cleaning supplies, and most of all, staff. The opera must have had hundreds of staff members before, and you wondered where Monsieur Martin would find so many people willing to work in the haunted opera house.

And you hadn't even begun to think about the job offer he made you on Friday. With what seemed like your extensive knowledge of the opera house and tight control over the construction crew, he decided to offer you the position of his assistant once the opera opened. While the pay was amazing, and you were flattered that he thought so highly of you, you were nervous about all of the responsibilities you'd have. What would you do if he still refused to set foot in these ghost-roaming hallways?

Speaking of ghosts, most nights when the sun set, you spent all your time with Erik where he showed you the music of the night. When he wasn't playing his organ, or singing, or even writing on his endless supply of sheet music, you both found yourselves entwined with one another. And although you hadn't yet gone any further than kissing, it certainly felt as if the other wanted to.

When you weren't together, you were still thinking of him. Even now, as you were packing your satchel for a trip to the cemetery, you couldn't help but let your thoughts drift to him. A soft smile settled on your face. There were so many things you wished you could tell your mother about him. While you wished she were still alive to meet him, you realized that would be a bit awkward. After all, Erik it seemed hadn't met very many people.

You were on your way to the kitchen when nearly silent footsteps fell in place with yours. If you hadn't been so accustomed to him by now, you probably wouldn't have noticed. He certainly was a mastermind of stealth. Lacing your hand in his, you turned your face to him and smiled.

"Good morning, Erik," you hummed.

"Morning," he said, a bit shy. You found his shy demeanor often returned when he hadn't seen you for a while, as if he was second guessing whether or not the affection you'd shown him was still there, or if it had been real at all.

"And where might you be off to this morning?"

"The cemetery."

He matched your pace and let you pull him toward wherever you were going. Once you reached the kitchens, Erik followed you inside. You made yourself a bread with jam and offered Erik some, but he declined. You noticed he didn't eat very often, as if his music alone was enough to sustain him. Meanwhile you ate, and he was very quiet.

Sensing his hesitation you asked, "would you like to accompany me?"

"Yes," Erik nodded. "I'll get us a carriage."

Almost as fast as you blinked, Erik was gone. He returned a few moments later and lead you to the backstage exit near the stables. What you found awaiting you, however, was not a carriage at all, but was a beautiful white horse.

"I thought you were getting us a carriage," you mused as you gently petted the stallion's nose. It wasn't that you were afraid of the horse, you were afraid of being on the horse. And it showed.

"I won't let you fall," Erik said, taking your hand gently before lifting you swiftly on top of the stallion's back. He then hopped up and sat down behind you, as if he had done this a million times.

You realized then how close you two were, bodies nearly pressed together. You didn't know if you were more embarrassed at your closeness or scared of falling off of the horse. You gripped the edge of the saddle tightly, your knuckles turning white. You believed that Erik wouldn't let you fall, but somehow that didn't make you any less scared.

Erik wrapped his arms around you and gripped the reins, before signaling the stallion to move forward. You nearly yelped as he broke into a gallop. Perhaps you should be the one to sit in the back so you might hold onto Erik for dear life.

"What's his name?" You asked, trying to distract yourself.

"Cesar."

"What a handsome name," you said, leaning forward to stroke his mane.

"Do try not to fall off," Erik said, pulling you back as your purchase on the horse's back began to slip. You might have laughed if you weren't so distracted by the feeling of Erik so close to you.

Even in your distracted manner, you watched as Erik took back alleyways and routes to avoid any watching eyes. You didn't see anyone the whole way to the cemetery. It was rather peaceful.

When you arrived, Erik helped you down from Cesar as delicately as he'd helped you on. You took his hand in yours and gave it a squeeze as you stared at the cemetery gates.

"Come, I'll show you my mother's grave."

You led Erik through the winding cemetery as a cool breeze tickled your cheeks and ruffled your cloaks around you. Although he never took his mask off again as he had that night, you stopped trying so hard to hide your face around him. However, before you'd left today you made sure to cover it should you cross paths with anyone.

When you found your mother's grave, you laid down a few wildflowers you had collected. You hoped she wouldn't mind they weren't her favorite flower.

"I'll give you some time alone," Erik said, disappearing before you could say anything.

You knelt down at the foot of her grave and stroked the cold stone affectionately. Today, your meeting with her wasn't sad. In fact, you were in a wonderful mood. For once, you found your eyes dry and your heart light. Of course, it was because of a certain someone.

"Oh mom, there's so much I wish I could tell you. I've met someone special. He means so much to me. I think... I think that I–"

A rustle of leaves and footsteps caught your ears. Erik wasn't eavesdropping was he? It wasn't Erik, however. When you rose and turned around, you found a familiar pair of brown eyes staring at you with a fond smile.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you again. It's quite strange we keep meeting here."

"It is, isn't it? It's nice to see you again, Christine."

"It's nice to see you again too... oh, I'm sorry. I realize I don't know your name."

"It's Y/N," you said, smiling softly.

"We'll it's nice to see you, Y/N. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but is what you say true? Your feelings for him?"

"What do you mean?" You asked, a bit embarrassed she'd heard you. Christine stepped closer to you and grabbed your hands a bit excitedly.

"Oh don't be so coy. You're in love with him!"

"Shhh! Not so loud!" You yelled immediately, squeezing her hands. Oh god, what if Erik heard her? What if he was watching you two right now? Deep inside your head a dark thought echoed, what if he didn't love you back?

"Oh, don't shush me," she started to laugh, but her laughter died halfway. "Oh. Oh! You mean to say he is here? I thought I recognized that horse!"

A darkness flooded Christine's eyes and was gone again as soon as she blinked. Her smile only faltered a little as she seemed to reminisce of her time with the Phantom. That faraway look in her eyes almost made you feel jealous. Almost.

"Oh, I do hope I haven't given you away," she recovered, laughing to herself. "I'm sorry."

"Christine!" Someone called from a little ways away.

"Over here!" She called back to the voice.

A man came into view, winding his way through the gravestones to Christine. He had long hair and was very well dressed. In his arms was a wriggling little boy, trying to escape his father's tickling.

"This is my husband Raoul and my son Gustave."

Raoul nodded politely and watched as Gustave suddenly became very shy and withdrew into his father's jacket. You smiled at the boy when he snuck a glance at you before he hid his face again.

"Are you here all alone?" Raoul asked suddenly, looking around for someone who might be accompanying you.

"Yes, she's here alone," Christine answered for you, as if you'd willingly reveal the Phantom of the Opera, and Raoul's enemy, was somewhere here with them. You nodded in response to Christine's answer.

"The cemetery isn't a place for a women such as yourself to be alone. Dangerous things lurk here."

Dangerous things being the man you'd been kissing hungrily several nights this past week. Yes, very dangerous. You and Christine shared a secret glance then, and you could tell she didn't want you to reveal that the first time you had met, she was also here alone.

"Let us take you back," Raoul offered.

"That's very kind of you, but I'm all right. I rode my horse here."

You hoped Raoul hadn't recognized the horse as Christine had. Raoul seemed then as if he was going to protest, but Christine spoke first.

"Come on darling, we should go. But Y/N, won't you come by some time and have tea with me? I'd love the chance to speak with you more."

From within her purse Christine withdrew a calling card with her name and address on it. You tucked it into your satchel and promised to visit her.

When Christine and her family were finally out of sight and earshot, you began to look for Erik, although you couldn't find him anywhere.

"You can come out now!" You called. Maybe he hadn't been watching you after all. Your shoulders sagged in relief.

Erik emerged from behind a crypt you were sure you'd already looked behind. There was nothing on his face that revealed whether or not he had heard what a Christine said, so you were hoping it had missed his ears.

"I'm ready to go."

Erik grabbed your hand delicately as you both made your way back to where you'd left Cesar.

"I have to tell you something," you said as he led you through the gravestones. Suddenly Erik looked curious and scared all at once. You wished he wouldn't doubt your affections for him, but you weren't ready to say you loved him, no matter how many times a day you thought about it.

"Monsieur Martin spoke with me on Friday, and he made me an offer."

"An offer for what?" Erik still looked curious, but a bit less scared now.

"An offer to be his assistant and help him run the opera house."

You wondered if Erik still had a vendetta against anyone who would try to reopen it. Did he still want to burn it to the ground? And if he did, how long would your affections pacify him? His answer surprised you.

"Good, maybe it will produce something halfway decent with you in charge."

You laughed, "well I won't exactly be in charge now, will I, but I do appreciate the thought. Of course my musical ear isn't as good as yours... but I suppose I could always pass a message on to the new manager from the musical genius."

You smiled at Erik and he grinned back at you. He did always seem to enjoy when you flattered him and his musical talents. But nothing you ever said to him was a lie.

"Let's just hope he isn't as bad as the old managers."

"They were that bad, huh?"

"They didn't believe I existed no matter how many times someone told them or how many times I taunted them. For months they thought someone was playing a prank on them."

"Well I guess they believed in you just about as much as I did," you laughed and Erik laughed too. "Oh, but you needn't worry. Monsieur Martin definitely believes in you. I mean, he won't even step an inch past the entrance hall. I suspect once it opens, we won't find him around very often."

"Well then, the Opera is as good as ours."