God, no. She wanted him to rip her pants off, but she'd be damned if she was going to let him fully undress her while he stood there fully clothed!... His hand still in hers, she moved it to his side, and let it go, gently, as she ran her hand up his arm, to his shoulder, feeling his biceps and shoulders underneath his shirt. "Those need to be freed, so I can look at them," she whispered. She had already noted how many buttons he had to be freed, almost subconciously, but then the mind. I can have my moment of solitude. Blessed Jesus, thank you!"The girl quickly made her way through the backstage passages and then turned down one of the darker corridors. The dusty floor and the cobwebs hanging from the ceiling told the tale better than words that the room at the end of this hall was one not regularly frequented by the inhabitants of the opera house. However, this room was the one place Christine felt somewhat at peace. For, if her father chose not to send the Angel of Music to. More

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