Darling. (Erik/Phantom x Reader)

Eight.

Dormitory of the Opera Populaire.

***

Y/N had set up a humble lunch spread on her living room coffee table, complete with plates and cutlery her father had left her and a piping hot kettle of black tea. She passed the additional time left on her hands by beginning a letter:

Dear Papa, 

Some updates from Paris. The head seamstress here has quit, leaving an opening. I have offered Helena up for the role, and sent her the job offer. I sincerely hope she will take it -- I miss having old friends. 

Speaking of friends, I believe I have already made one -- his name is Erik, and he works at the opera house. He is a bit... odd, perhaps, or unique, but also incredibly kind. I have even invited him for lunch today, so perhaps I won't be as lonely as I had foreseen. 

I miss you terribly and cannot wait for you to visit already, 

Your daughter and confidant, 

Teddy. 

Once the letter was finished, she carefully folded it into an envelope, and set it aside to seal later. Her timing was, apparently, impeccable, as she heard a light tapping coming from her mirror. 

She straightened out her skirt as she made her way to slide open the mirror, revealing a familiar masked fellow. He was without cape and cloak, and instead wearing only his trousers, white shirt, and a cream-colored vest. She also noticed that he was holding a small bouquet of flowers. 

He handed her this collection of a variety of blooms, all native to France. She beamed with the gift, "Thank you, Erik! These are delightful. Do come in, would you?" She spoke, moving aside quickly and making her way into the seating room. She pulled a vase from the bottom of her book shelf and carefully placed the flowers inside as he sat in one of her chairs, "These are truly gorgeous," she remarked, placing the vase on her desk in the corner. 

"Thank you again for the invitation," Erik said, straightening himself out. He had spent an hour trying to pick an appropriate outfit, an additional hour trying to select flowers he thought were worthy of her. He was fairly happy with his selection in the flowers, but felt humbled by her presence. Even in her morning dress, which was clearly worn with love and simple, she was a hundred times more beautiful and elegant than he. 

As soon as the flowers were straightened out, Y/N took a seat at her sofa with a smile, "It is wonderful having you -- I must confess, I am desperate for the company."

"So, you couldn't find anyone better on short notice?" He asked with a slightly jesting melody in his voice. 

"I know you're trying to tease me, but you may be the only person who wants to join me for lunch around here," Y/N smiled, pouring herself a cup of tea, "After all, I am this horrid Englishwoman who speaks god awful French. Tea?"

He nodded, accepting a teacup from her. She noticed his hands were covered in white gloves. She was about to ask when he said, "I must admit, I don't know if you will find equal companions here."

"Why is that?"

"I don't think anyone here is nearly as interesting as you," He said, carefully swirling the amber-color liquid in his cup, "You have this unique quality to pull people in."

Y/N chuckled, "You make me sound like a siren! If the people of my last company heard you speaking this way, they would denounce it immediately. I don't have the attitude to be a siren."