Author's Note: Written for a contest on deviantART. I needed to write a story about Erik and Christine's relationship before the events of the book/musical. Enjoy, and wish me luck!

Sheet music was resting in her lap, but had slipped from an orderly pile and onto the floor in a black-dotted wave of paper. Her eyelashes fluttered like yellow butterflies against her cheekbones as she slumbered. Her head rested against the frame of the mirror. Well, to her it was a mirror. To him, it was a window into her world.

Erik had become so focused on his composing that night, he'd suddenly found himself an hour late for Christine's voice lesson. His untimely arrival at her mirror had led him to find her like this: asleep in front of the reflective glass. It was clear she had been kneeling there, waiting for him as she did every night.

On the nights he was on-time for his arrival, he would hear Christine's voice calling from down the hidden passageway, bidding her Angel of Music to appear. And he would, throwing his voice into her chambers. He lived to see the look of wonderment that would grace her delicate young features upon hearing him speak. She was the only one to ever be happy with him in their presence. Of course, there was so, so much about him she didn't know.

Erik heaved an irritated sigh. He had just arrived, only to find his student asleep at their meeting place. He figured this had occurred – the passage behind her wall had been unusually quiet. Damn. His tardiness had cancelled their voice lesson before it even began.

He was torn between his two loves, and at times he was pulled more towards one than the other. But he always regretted it when he was.

Erik watched Christine's breath mist against the pane of glass. She would wake with such a crick in her neck. It wasn't good for her vocal chords to be strained in such a way. She needed to be in bed, especially if she was exhausted enough to slip into sleep in such an awkward place. Ah well, there was nothing to be done about it now.

He knelt before his window – her mirror – and rested his hand against it. He was so close to touching her. He could feel the heat she left on the glass. The cold barrier between their worlds was now the same warmth as her skin. It was obvious that she had been there a while, waiting at her mirror. Waiting for him.

Reluctantly, he stood and watched over her slumbering figure a moment longer before creeping away. He would remember in the future to be prompt for Christine's lessons. He would try and spare her the discomfort of waking on the floorboards a second time.

Although…should he fail, it would be nice to once more feel her heat against his fingertips.