Hey everyone! I just thought to put an additional chapter since majority of you have requested to continue it. But this is all I can go for, I cannot make it in a series since this was a snap of an idea. Actually, I almost gave up writing this chapter, because I had not planned for this story to be a two-shot. Longest chapter I wrote yet, I think. Bwhahah. I know, I suck at the kissing, sexual scenes. Actually, this is my first time on writing such so I was making myself blush while these imaginations are running through my mind and writing them down pathetically, not being able to find the right words. Oh well.. :D I kind of think this chapter sucks, I keep on blabbering here. BLAH BLAH BLAH.

Some pronouns might be wrong, like her or his can be mixed up. Meh, I will check later, my eyes and hands are kinda tired right now. Nevertheless, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own POTO or any of the characters. Just the imagination ;)

"You are very desirable, you don't know how my body craves for you, Christine."

Those words just made her feel like a real woman. A woman that was wanted by a man, it made her feel pleased to hear his gruff tone with that statement. Yet, those words are falsehoods, and her thoughts about it were set and no one can change that.

Christine was lost in her own thoughts as she stared at her reflection on the mirror of her desk, sitting still as she didn't even recognize the face that was staring back helplessly at her. Dark shadows under her eyes were beginning to be visible; her once beautiful glow has now been drained out her, which only left paleness. Her eyes had not even held any emotions. It was dull and lifeless. Her bright smile now had been recently replaced by a troubled frown. Her eyes were irritated and tired, face puffy from crying. She did not even dare to light the candles; she wanted the never-ending darkness to engulf her forever. She didn't want to be consumed by the pain anymore.

It has been weeks since she didn't attend her voice lessons with him. She was so furious, so much that she wished she had the strength to tell him how she despised the fact that he left her wanting for more. Such intimate touches he gave her body made her deranged. His expertly long, soft fingers explored everything that he could reach; leaving her completely breathless with this sensation she was not supposed to be feeling. How can he just say that she was very desirable and his body ached for her when he just touched her for a moment and then left? It didn't make any sense. Did he just tell her that she was desirable just so she wouldn't be hurt? When he roamed his hands on her, was her body not good enough to be even felt? Did it even satisfy him? Did he realize that she was not the woman he wanted and need? Her painful tears ran down her pale, lifeless face as she imagined that night, his intense kisses, and his warm body on hers, his rough acts that made her cry in pleasure, and the way he groaned when she stroked him left them gasping for air. Did it even mean anything for her mentor? Or was she only a toy to play around with? Why did he pull away? Why was he holding back? She doesn't understand any of his thoughts at all.

His caresses still lingered on her body. She recollected that she was grasping her breath, not comprehending anything that just occurred. An infinity rush of emotions overwhelmed her. She called out his name, loving the feeling of his name come out on her lips. She anxiously craved him to touch her again, to make her longing for him justified. He unexpectedly threw things around, furious for no apparent reason and thundered at her to leave him alone. Frightened at such vehemence, she hastily ran and left, her heart shattered into nothingness.

People did observe the changes in her. Some were apprehensive that such a beauty as her is not taking care of herself very well. They might think she's foolish, but she did not give any care at all. She knows that if she keeps this up, there are a lot of risks that she'll lose her own sanity because of one man she wholeheartedly loved and wanted. But she assumed he did not even want her. What he said that night were all lies. She indignantly looked away from her reflection, she was tired, restless night always haunted her, those fervent moments with him was all she dreamt every night. He was all she can think about. He made her do this to herself. If he hasn't done that, maybe everything would be still normal.

Down below the Opera House, violent, incensed notes floated into the air. Two hands were coarsely dancing its way on the organ; the man playing desperately needs release from his anger and frustration. Yet, hearing these unpleasant and disgraceful noises were not doing any good for his stability. It made matters worse. He started pounding on the keys and stopped.

"Damn this!" He cussed. He heatedly stalked away from his beloved organ. He tried so hard to compose something, anything, just to get his attention out of that night! His fingers were always trembling, wanting to feel her body once again. He desired the sensation of her soft skin against his fingertips. He sought to hear her arousing moans, her hands curiously stroking him. And he wanted to see her face in ecstasy, it gave him superiority that somehow, his touches made her react that way. Yet, shame had not left his mind. She had not even gave him permission to lay a single finger on her yet, he roughly forced his self against her, anger was protruding in him as he heard her doubting that he had not wanted her. That was the moment he lost control. He did not want her to think that she was not attractive in his eyes. Somehow he had lamented telling her how he craves to ravish her. It was possible his statement frightened such an innocent one as her. His corrupt thoughts about desiring her would only make her think that he's a vile monster. He laughed bitterly. He isa monster.

He evoked the sudden violent outburst he made after he sinfully kissed his novice. Her frightened weeps made him more ferocious, he was out of jurisdiction; so much emotion was taking over his own saneness. He heard her flee when he furiously demanded that she should leave at once. Of course, he meant the complete opposite of what he said but he didn't want anything worse happening. He might unintentionally hurt her and he would not forgive himself for it. But he knew he had hurt her emotionally if not for physically.

Touching his lips, he still felt her soft, luscious lips on his deformed one. It was his first kiss. Such sweet, sweet act that was so overwhelming must be illicit. Her sweet scent that infiltrated his nose was so addicting. She was supposed to be off-limits but how can that even be when everyday, her body was taunting him and his cravings were deceiving his concentration?

It had been weeks since that night, he thought. She didn't attend their lessons recently. Somehow, it made him feel relaxed that she wasn't going to face him yet; he wouldn't know what to do. It was killing him to be apart from her at such long time even though he knows she's just up there but he can't bring himself to approach her yet, he was not ready. He was afraid of what he could see in her eyes. He wondered what she must have been thinking of right now. Was she having the same thoughts as him?

She touched her pale lips. It was her first kiss. She traced her lips lightly, remembering his distorted lips roughly crushing against hers. It made her feel her body burn with hunger she had never known until that night. For her, his lips were perfectly imperfect. It was somewhat supposed to feel wrong yet it feels so right. How can that be? And she was ecstatic and relieved that Erik took away the virginity of her lips. She knows herself that even if he didn't ask for authorization to kiss her, she would willingly give herself to him. Was it his first too? She looked at the floor, of course not. With his voice, he could get any woman he wants, with his money, he could've paid someone to bed with him. No, the thought of it was too much to bear. Too many doubts were running through her head, unable to comprehend exactly why would she even think that he would have sex with another. . Woman.

She stood up. She needed to confirm these unfamiliar feelings. She had to know if what happened that night were indications that he wanted her. In a matter of minutes, she can feel herself slowly slipping away from sanity just thinking about what were running through his mind. She did not want to wonder for eternity on how he felt about her. She came near her gigantic mirror, somehow feeling conscious that he always watched her through this see-through glass from the other side. It made her uneasy that maybe while she changed clothes... He can perceive all of her.

Taking a deep breath, she slid the mirror to the right, gasping and stumbling backwards.

"E-Erik!" She breathed, clutching her chest, utterly surprised that he was standing there.

Finally, he once again heard his name come out of her fragile, little lips as he inhaled deeply, taking pleasure in hearing her soft, sweet, innocent voice. He did not utter a single word or phrase, his gaze burned intently at her, wandering his eyes over her perfect, angelic face down to her petite body. She trembled slightly at his exploring eyes, unable to determine what he is thinking of right now. She feels like she was being undressed without even him touching her. He noticed how horrible she looked, red, puffy eyes met with his emerald orbs. Her tightly curled auburn hair was in a mess, framing her face in the wrong places. She was sniffing and quivering while he gazed at her, she looked more fragile than he had ever seen her before. Silence started lingering in the air; only their heartbeats were heard and their unsteady breathing.

"Touch me."

He froze, unable to process what she had just said. Did he heard right? She told him to touch her? Feel her?

"Erik, touch me." She repeated. He held his breath; her words were beginning to arouse him.

"Christine…you don't want this." He growled lowly.

"Prove to me that I am desirable, Erik." She stepped forward; her voice unwavering and will not back down at any cause. He shut his eyes. He knew words cannot always prove anything, actions would have to do but he cannot do what she is asking of him. He wanted to. He needed her.

"No, Christine, stop it." He clenched his fists, trying everything that it takes to control himself and to not give in to her preposterous requests. He won't make the same mistake again.

"Erik…"

"I would not grant any nonsensical requests you're asking of me now, child." He pressed, clearly restraining himself from giving in to her commands.

She stepped forward; grasping his hands gently, and rested it on her round, soft breasts. His eyes widened at her sudden bold movement. He tried to pull away, but she kept her hands above his. She started to guide his hands down on her stomach, her flawless curves. His knees were going weak, and his body was raging with his damned hormones, unable to grasp the situation right now. His breath accelerated, his uncertain, trembling hands against her body were too much for him to even handle. He closed his eyes, feeling the sensation of her perfection under his immoral hands. She lowered their hands, past her stomach to her maidenhood; he can feel her trembling hands against his. They were both afraid of this yet they wanted this too much.

Before he can even touch her there, he roughly pulled his hands away from her, panting. She looked at him, rejection and hurt was visibly clear in her eyes, tears were forming on the corner of her eyes.

"Why? Don't you want me, Maestro? Am I not suitable enough for your needs?"

Silence.

"We will not start this discussion again, Christine. I do not want to linger in this topic any longer." Stubbornly, he turned away, walking towards the mirror to escape from this torture.

"I love you!" She exclaimed, stopping him in his tracks.

What did she say?

She ran and hugged his back, painful tears soaking his cape, as she buried her face on his solid back, her hands grasping the clothing over his chest. She was weeping uncontrollably; hiccups and sniffing were all that were heard of in that room. He stood there, motionless. Loved him? She loved him? No, that's quite impossible, an angel…an angel such as her couldn't possibly… No, he can't accept this. He loved her too, so much. But… he was twice of her age, for Christ's sake! He couldn't possibly bear the thought of him being together with an innocent angel. It would be hell for her. He cannot give her the happiness of the outside world. He cannot give anything to her but his pathetic love and passion for music. He looked down at the tiny, porcelain, trembling hands that were clutching his clothes as if her life depends on it. He shook his head; a single tear fell from his masked cheek, as it dropped on Christine's hands. Of course, she did not miss the wet liquid that touched her delicate hands.

"Maestro…"

He did something out of the impossible. He did not want this to go on anymore further or he would have gone mad. He would have to show her his weakness. This curse is the reason why he cannot grant her wishes. It was wrong, very wrong for him to take pleasure in touching an angel. With trembling hands, he slowly reached for his mask, revealing his hideousness, his sin, his repulsive, scarred face.

"This is a face of a demon, Christine!" Turning around, he grasped her wrists tightly, shouting at her furiously, wanting to scare her. This was the only way.

"Be disgusted! Are you repulsed now?" He spat bitterly.

"I believe that an angel such as you would not want to be touched by such monstrosity."

Her eyes traced his disfigurement, somehow surprised that it did not even make her flinch, her eyes softened at the scenery before her. He did not receive compassion because of this imperfection of his; her heart clenched when angry and agonizing tears ran down her teacher's cheeks as she wandered her eyes over his monstrosity. He thinks that no one could ever love him; he thinks that he does not deserve her beautiful face and soul.

'Pitiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you known?' Her thoughts wondered, imagining all the hurt he must have been through.

He is beautiful. His soul, his music, his voice, everything about him is beautiful. She cared less about his appearances. This man before her was the one who guided her when she was at loss of her father. He was the one who introduced music to her, to make her voice take wing. This was the man who taught her to love, to sing and to learn new things she had never known before. This was the man who could lose his temper, but never dared to hurt her in any way. He can be gentle and rough at the same time, and she loved his ways. This man standing before her is the man she wanted to be with for the rest of her life.

Hesitantly, she started to reach her hand out, searching his eyes for permission to touch his scarred face. Fear was evident in his eyes, so much longing was there, such adoring eyes he had. He was scared that she would turn her back on him, but he knew the risks. He wanted her to flee from this cursed face, not ever looking back. Because he cannot accept the fact that she loved him. It was too good to be true. He cannot protect her, he is sure of that. Society would start being harsh on her too for loving a monster like him. He cannot put her life at risk; let his be taken away but not his angel's. He wanted Christine to have a normal life. A loving, handsome man that would take great care of her, a normal child without any deformities, and a wonderful life out and about where he cannot possibly expose himself into. He let go of her wrists, looking away.

He winced when her fingertips slightly brushed with his twisted face; he just stood there, staring at her in confusion. Why was she not frightened of such image bestowed upon her? He must admit the curiosity found in her face is so amusing. She was just so…innocent. So pure. Maybe that is why he fell for her, since he wasn't even considered innocent at anything at all, she was his complete opposite. She, the light and he is the darkness. Without her, there would be no existence of him in this cruel world. Without her care, love and adoring side, he would be of nothing but complete darkness. She showed him that the world was not cruel at all times, she gave light in him through her beautiful smiles. She calls him her angel. Truly, she was the angel here. Such kindness in her that no one had dared to show him was unbelievable.

She clumsily tiptoed, trying to reach his lips but she stopped short because he was a lot taller than she was. She grabbed his collar, making Erik lean down and she caught his lips, stumbling backwards as his weight fell on her and the bed catching their fall. She brought her hands behind his head, drawing his face nearer, wanting to savor every bit of his lips. Erik supported his weight by putting his hands on the mattress, afraid that he might crush her any second.

"Touch me." She whispered in his mouth as he groaned, pulling away. She sat up, gazing at his troubled face; he was unsure of what he wanted to do anymore. His head was spinning; clearly he was supposed to stop, right now. Yet, this pleasure he was feeling stopped him from doing so. He can't separate himself from her anymore. They both needed this, he growled and roughly pushed her down the bed, pushing his pulsating tongue into her sweet mouth, and was rewarded by a moan as their tongues danced gracefully. He brought his heated kisses on her neck, murmuring on how beautiful she was. She arched her body, enjoying the feel of his unusual lips on her skin. He stopped.

"I love you." He finally said, returning her feelings.

Her lips curved into a smile,

"I love you more, Erik."

"I love how you say my name, perhaps, later, you'll be screaming and moaning my name instead of just saying it." She blushed at his bold statement, and started to moan again as he brought his heated touches on her breasts and his lips roughly grinding against hers.

Such pleasure that was forbidden.

And so their sin began.

Fin.

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Thank you all for the wonderful reviews!