Mrs. Dame polished the gun she kept in her nighstand. It was a dark black netal, light in her bony hand and more than accurate. She and Ray were going out into the woods tonight, and this would be the perfect weapon to have.

              Erik worried hanging mistletoe would be a bit forward and presumptuous of him, especially since he hadn't kissed Christiana in over four weeks - four weeks, three days, eleven hours and thirty minutes that is, if he was going to be precise - but  bought a few sprigs anyway when he took her with him on a holiday shopping trip to the neighboring town. She had been the one to point it out to him... even if he had been the one to point out to her it was mistletoe and not garland decorations like she originally thought. The blush brightening her cheeks had been heavenly though, as she placed one piece in the cart anyway. She hadn't seen him dip his hand in the bucket and pull out three more.

    They had been decorating this entire week and were exhausting their christmas stores. He had never decorated before, and was more than pleased to do it with her. Decorating also gave them the excuse to tease each other, and become physically closer.

   Christiana often called Erik when she couldn't reach something, and on the occasion, he'd just lift her up to do it. She'd asked the first time why he didn't just lean over her, to which he'd smartly replied, "But then I wouldn't get to hold you," and once again, her beautiful blush brightened her cheeks.

     She teased him too if course, however she also included the random snowball in these activities.

      In the evening's they'd gather around his piano, huddle close, and they would sing as he played, christmas tunes, or pieces from his opera. They never wanted to leave each other's side.

    Tonight, Christmas Eve, Erik planned on asking Christiana her thoughts on certain things, as they stood staring at the tree he chopped down. And don't get him started on the tree. It was sappy, pine needley, and smelled like the great outdoors. He could not believed she had convinced him to cut down the monstrosity and lug it inside his immaculate home.

   Christiana neglected to tell him that she'd been watching him for the first half hour he tried to cut it down, and how amusing it had been. She couldn't breathe from her laughter. Every time he'd go to swing the axe - why was she not surprised he'd had an axe in his garage? - he'd get too close to the tree and the needles would brush his back or shoulder, and he'd get the most disgusted look on his face at the filth of nature touching him. He had danced around the tree before she finally made her presence known, causing his ego to make him suck it up and chop down the tree like the average lumberjack. She still would have random fits of giggles over this, and he often stared at her while she was convulsing, wondering if she were alright.

   Now he stood staring into the fire, next to the aforementioned tree, cup of egg nog in hand, thinking about the love of his life. Who he didn't realize was coming down the stairs.

   Christiana had made up her mind. Today she would convince him to take off his mask, and she would show him how much she loved him, how much she could accept him, and that no matter what, he could confide in her. She had no idea what kind of relationship they had, but she knew every relationship had to have some trust. She trusted him, she just needed him to trust her.

   "Erik," she called softly from the stairs.

    He turned around, breath catching at her loveliness. "Christiana."

   She smiled at him and set the gift she had in her hands under the tree.

   "What are your thoughts on marriage?" He blurted out.

    She paused, the present falling from her hands. "Excuse me?"

   "Nevermind!"

    "Was that a proposal?" She laughed.

    "No, just a question."

    Wide eyed she gazed at him in confusion. "I mean I want to get married. Have a family. I am a bit young to have children though. I think." Her cheerfulness warmed his emotions. Even if children were completely out of the cards for him. He would never bring a child into this world in case it looked like him.

    "Hmm. I believe in marriage too." He set his mug down on the coffee table, hand slipping to his back pocket.

     "Children?"

     "I have a present for you. I know it's Christmas Eve, but..."

   "Oh! I have one for you too!" Yet he was dragging her away from the tree before she could get it.

    He stood her in front of a mirror, and he placed himself behind her.

   "Pick up your hair and close your eyes."

     Frowning, she complied.

     She felt his cool hands brush her collar bone and her jaw, and then something heavy fell around her neck. It was thick and  wide. His hands drifted to her waist.

   "Okay."

     Her eyes fluttered open and she gasped. A long, diamond necklace inlaid with rubies ran around her throat and collar bones. It was an antique, and expensive.

   "This is... I can't take this, it's too much!" She exclaimed.

    "You will because if you don't I'll throw it in the fire. You will wear it, or it will burn."

    "But -"

   "Christiana," he warned.

     She rolled her eyes and turned around in his arms. "Thank you. It's beautiful."

    He smiled, and she placed a soft kiss to his unmasked cheek.

    "I have a present for you." Really she had several as there were many things he didn't realize he needed.

  But right now, she picked up a little box from under the tree.

     Hesitantly, he opened it, clueless as to what it could be. A key lay in the bottom.

   "That is the key to my heart -" she laughed as his expression completely lit up. "And to another little chest that is currently sitting in your office, inside of which is an organization or filing book where you can label the pages of and insert your music into, instead of having six arias, eight operas, and who knows how many sonatas and symphonies cluttering your piano and desk. Kind of sad for me because the tantrums you throw when you find a sheet of music filed with the wrong opera is adorable. But good for you because now you can stop cursing at inanimate, helpless, innocent sheets of paper."

   He started laughing. "Thank you." Maybe he should have proposed that night. He did have the ring after all... well, he'd had it after she first week she started living with him.

    "I do need a better filing system... but your heart is the only thing I want. Can't live without."

   "Good, because you'll always have it."

      He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug.

    They held each other close, sitting on the sofa for a while, delighting in each other's company. But at eleven, Erik decided Christiana needed to sleep. He didn't know she was waiting for him to take her to her room to pull off her plan.

     She leaned heavily against him as they walked back up the stairs.

   When they reached her room she looked up. "Oh dear," she said, grinning back at him.

   He laughed. "You did that didn't you?" He asked, chuckling at the mistletoe above them.

     "I'm shy and I needed a reason to kiss my boyfriend."

     "If you need a reason to kiss me then I must not be a very good boyfriend."

   "So make it up to -" but his lips were over hers. He intended the kiss on being tender, slow, and sweet. Christiana, however, had other ideas. She needed his full attention to be on her if he were to remove his mask while they... did whatever it was they were doing.

   Okay, hot make out session time. Don't faint, she told herself. Or die.

    She threw her arms around his neck, burying her fingers in his thick hair, pulling him further down towards her, not daring to stand on her toes to meet him less she trip while going through the removal process.

  Erik had planned to pull away the moment he felt her arms around his neck, but kissing her was so amazing. And his self control literally went out the window as his own arms slithered around her back, pulling her petite frame into his towering body. Her back hit the wall as their kissing intensified.

    Her heart was racing, and she briefly wondered if she should give up the plan and just continue making out. But he rarely let her in like this, so she had to take the chance.

    To her utter shock, his tongue brushed her bottom lip, requesting entrance, and she gave it, as he pushed her up the wall, her legs coming up to wrap around his waist.

   Erik had never felt anything so direct and strong, so passionate and controlling as what he felt now. It wasn't lust, it never would be, it was the joy of contact and pure love he felt for the only person who he had ever cared for, who wanted him and his love back. He was so caught up he never felt her hand brush his mask off.

   After a few more minutes Christiana, feeling Erik could probably keep going because there clearly was something weird going on with his lungs, pulled away, because unlike him, again, she had to breathe.

       His eyes were wide, lit with a fire and darting all over her face as she smiled at him.

    She placed her hands gently onhis shoulders, still wrapped around him like a backwards backpack.

   "You really are quite handsome without your mask."

    Then he remembered himself. He felt the cold air on his face. He looked down at the ground, saw his white half masked staring up at him. He was horrified, and his horror blinded him to Christiana's bright smile.

    He threw her down, shoving her away from him.

    "You little prying, deceiving witch!" He screamed at her, going mad.

   Tears filled her eyes as she lay on the ground in her room. For a moment he realized what he'd done. But that moment fled as the madness came back.

   "You wanted to see me! Look at me, Christiana! A regular phantom of the opera, aren't I? A monster? Well this is not a nineteenth century romance! This is a horror story, you havemade it a horror story!"

   He flung himself down in front of her, siezing her shoulders, knotting her thick hair in his fist.

   "Well kiss me now, Chrissy! Kiss me now, as what I am! A monster!" She struggled against him, in pain at his once gentle, now harsh hands piercing her flesh through her clothes, the bones of his fingers grinding against the bones of her shoulders. "Tell me how it feels, my dearest love, to be needed, desired, loved, and adored by a hideous monster who would die for you! Well?"

   She slapped him.

     "Your personality is the only monstrosity I see."

    His face was a foil. One side more  perfect than Adonis' the other horrid. His flesh was crinkled, waxen, and inflammed. His nose was nearly devoid of skin, covered by some kind of dark tissue. His eyes wa sunken, ringed with darkness. His cheek was sunken and hollow. But he was not a monster. He was not disgusting, his features did not disgust her - his actions were more revolting then them.

       He was staring at her in shock that she had struck him. She at the very least expected him to furiously hit her back. But his hands had fallen from her.

   Silently, he got to his feet. Christiana instantly saw that she had hurt him, and he was doing what he always did, what she had always done, ever since her father died when anyone new came into her life. He put his wall back up, blocking her out again.

     "No! Erik don't do this to me. Don't lock me out, please!" She sobbed, grabbing the leg of his pants before he could leave. He emotionlessly shook himself free and slammed her door.

   "No!"she shrieked, slamming her fist against it as she heard the lock click.

    But she still had his mask, and he seemed to realize that.

   Just as the door reopened, she lunged for it. His eyes were icy now, and they bore into her with a burning, frozen, feverous intensity. He saw his mask cradled in her hands.

   "Give that to me Christiana."

   He already hated her, why not drive that hate further, into loathing? She grasped the plastic between her hands and snapped it in half. Then quarters. Then tiny pieces, cutting her hand on the jagged material.

   "Why?" He crouched in front of her, roughly pulling her head up so she would look at him.

   "Because you live a lie. There is nothing wrong with you other than your misguided morals. I still love you. And I hate you for not trusting me. I'm still here, aren't I?" She asked. "You fool."

     Erik's hands tightened and for a brief second, she thought he was going to crush her skull.

   But then he was tucking her bleeding hand into his shirt and his lips touched hers again.

     Sadly before the kiss could deepen, someone knocked on the front door.

       A/N
   So someone pmed me to make this steamy. I'm just going to tell you now though, there will not be any sex in this story. I generally don't do that. However, in another story... say for a random reason Man Behind the Mask gets a sequel... which is kinda weird since it is a sequel... anywho, then that would be included. But this story, will not have anything like that.

   Thanks to all of my wonderful readers!