(A/N) Sooooooooooooo I wrote a one-shot XD. I got in the mood to write one whilst reading edka88's many one-shots. And I knew I wanted it to take place around the Journey to the Cemetery/Wandering Child scenes. And that it would be E+C. That's it. Then this was born. I hope you enjoy!

I knew it was him; I knew it from the second I got into the carriage. Having only been around him two times, I already easily recognized his posture, bearing, air, and smell—smoky from the candles yet not unbearably so, with a crispness I could only assume came from his soap.

And I always got this strange feeling in my chest when he was near.

If I knew who it was, then why on Earth did I get in and not scream for help? Run back inside and get Raoul? Was it fear he would just force me to go with him regardless? Or was it that I was simply intrigued with where this was going? Was I willingly giving myself into his hands?

I sat only two feet from him, observing his back. He had a thick, black cloak on, which obscured all of his skin. It was cold, freezing really. I envied how thick his was compared to my cape which was more for costumes and balls, not early winter morning visits to a cemetery.

His breath seemed shaky; was it the cold or his nerves? What was he planning? My breath was shaky too, but it seemed to stem more from the cold seeping into my body. Why did I wear this atrociously revealing dress? Because it was the first black dress I saw. I sighed; his back stiffened.

Thoughts raced through my mind. I was inches away from the man who had given me so much, only to reveal that it had all been a lie. Well, not all of it. Deep down, he was still my Angel, of that I had no doubt. But since that night three months ago, I had only seen the Phantom. I was seeing him now. Yet, I was not frightened like I thought I should have been.

I placed the blame on last night. His eyes revealed an absolute gentleness I did not expect to see ever again as he told everyone he was my teacher, as I walked towards him, and as he walked towards me. I honestly thought he was going to kiss me; that or whisk me away to somewhere probably underground. Instead, anger flashed in his eyes and my ring was in his hands.

"You belong to me."

Was that all I was to him? An object to possess, a voice to harness? Did his feelings run any deeper than that or was I simply a trophy to put on his wall, an achievement to add to his accomplishments?

"Fear can turn to love."

Why would he want my love if I was only a thing to possess? No, this was deeper than want; this was need. He needed me, I daresay. Kidnapping me, sabotaging Il Muto, killing Buquet, crashing the Masquerade—all of it was done in desperation to get me to need him. I saw it so clearly now.

"Who seems a beast."

Yes, his actions were beastly. In fact, he was more than likely kidnapping me right now. And his face was... different. I can hardly call it beastly, now that the fog has cleared. No doubt his face had caused him to think he was a monster, turning him into the very thing he truly was not.

But was needing someone really so monstrous?

"But dreams of beauty."

Was I the beauty he desired? Or was it cleansing he desired? Did he think I could bring him that healing, that forgiveness he so desperately needed? I was only one woman; could I possibly mend this broken man? Was there even any beauty to draw out to the surface?

Yes, his music was proof of that.

"Oh, Christine."

I can still hear that sigh, that painful murmur of my name. I was his light in his dark, labyrinthine world. I was the healing hand, the saving grace. At least, in his mind I was. Was it true I could save him? Was it possible? What reason did I have to give him another chance after all the lies and deceptions?

And then we arrived at the cemetery. He stopped the carriage, and I held my breath. I did not move, for I was too shocked he had truly done as I asked. He had brought me to grieve over my deceased father. Hot tears stung my eyes, bringing a strange sensation to my nearly numb face from the biting cold.

"Mademoiselle?" He changed his accent, lightened his tone. Did he truly not realize I knew?

"Angel." The word slipped past my lips before I could consider the consequences. Why did I not get out? Why did I stay put with this man? This murderer?

He turned to face me. I could only see the left side of his face, and there was still makeup around his eye from his costume. Something akin to admiration mixed with shock and pride filled his blue-green eyes. They stared intensely into my brown ones.

"How did you know?" No emotion in that hauntingly beautiful voice of his.

"How could I not? I've always been able to sense your presence."

I had never seen him smirk.

"And now what, Christine? Will you run, scream, call for help? Perhaps a carriage will pass by and you will be saved from the monster." The smirk disappeared, as did the admiration from his eyes.

"If there is a monster nearby, then by all means, why are we still sitting here?"

Shock.

"What do you want from me?" I asked softer than I wanted to. My confidence was wavering at each second his intense gaze held mine. I had the childish notion to focus on a nearby tree, but I stayed strong.

"I want you."

"Why?"

"Because I..." He dropped my gaze, took a deep breath, and caught it again. "Because I love you, my angel."

My breath hitched in my throat.

"Oh."

"It must feel odd for something like me to love someone like you."

Something.

"No, it feels quite normal to me." And it did. I suddenly felt very warm. Comfortable. Even though I was certain I had lost all feeling in my glove-less fingers.

"Christine." My name never sounded so beautiful. Yet there was a warning in his lyrical voice. Do not toy with me, it said. Be honest.

"You need me, don't you?" My teeth were chattering now, whether from adrenaline or frostbite I could not say.

"Like I need air. No, like I need music."

Ah, something we both understood.

"I understand."

"And what do you need?" His expression had softened tremendously, and all I saw was love. He was giving me the chance to say no. He was putting me first.

"I need you to give me your cloak, so I do not freeze to death. Then I need you to take me somewhere safe so we can figure out what to do next." His eyes widened for a moment before he hastily pulled the cloak off himself and handed it to me. My numb fingers pulled it tightly around my throat, his warmth still present and radiating through my body. I buried my fingers in the folds of the cloak, seeking and finding a warmth that nearly equaled what was spreading within my heart.

"Christine?"

"Yes." My teeth were not chattering as badly now.

"I love you."

Before I could even process his words, he slapped the reins down, making the horses trot ahead. I settled deep into his cloak, wondering if I would always feel this warm and safe and needed.

When he turned to look at me one more time, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, I had no doubts I would feel this way for the rest of my life.

(A/N) Also, I should like to add that I just got done writing the first draft of a research paper on an author, and it served to remind me how much I hate research and college.

Please let me know if you liked this! :D