The Shadow's Melody || The Phantom of the Opera || Book One

7. Playing With The Shadow

"You'll pay for that spider trick later," his voice was right beside my ear making me jump again.

"Oh hush, Opera Ghost. You're just worried I'll steal your spotlight," without looking at him I grabbed my broom and made my way down the wooden staircase, swaying my hips as I walked. If my hearing serves me right, I might have heard him chuckle.

* * *

"Happy birthday tooooooo....yoooooou!!!" the entire group cheered as Violette blew out her birthday candles.

Vi was all smiles and she thanked and hugged everyone. Ever since our discussion about the Phantom we haven't been as close as we had been.

From the way she looked at me I could tell she still worried about my feelings for the assumed dead Phantom of the Opera. She meant well, I knew that. She just didn't understand.

But tonight we carried on like we had normally did. Almost inseparable. I say 'almost' because with Violette's gregarious personality I couldn't keep her to myself for long. Soon enough I was left standing alone by the cake, happily watching as all the men got their turn to dance with the fiery red head that is my best friend.

I picked at my slice of cake, thinking. My family came to my mind and the memory of my last birthday with them. Truly I had enjoyed myself, but even amongst all those people, I felt alone. Alone at my own birthday. I hadn't fit in there. It wasn't for me.

Now, being in the warm atmosphere of the opera house, surrounded by the boisterous crowd, I felt content. I belonged here.

Something caught my eye and I smiled. Picking up another slice of cake I made my way up the narrow stairway that lead to the roof.

I set both plates down on the roof's ledge, rubbing away the cold that nuzzled up against my bare arms. It hasn't snowed yet but we all knew it would soon. Nothing is more beautiful than Paris covered in the white purity of snow.

A heavy black cape surrounded me. It was about four sizes too big for me but I had the feeling that my protests would be like talking to a brick wall.

"You mustn't catch cold," Erik arrived in my peripheral vision.

I inhaled the scent on his cape. Parchment, candles, and roses. An intoxicating combination.

"What are you thinking about?" I turned toward him, taking in his presence while I thought over his question.

"A lot of things, I guess. Things that would surely bore you," I squinted a little due to the setting sun.

"I couldn't possibly find you boring, Mélodie," his deep voice caused a bundle of warmth to form inside my chest, making it swell.

Before I could let my mind get carried away I handed him his slice of cake, "I hope you like chocolate. Maurice and I spent hours baking it."

I laughed, remembering Maurice's black hair nearly white with flour.

"Who is this Maurice?" Erik furrowed his brows, taking his first bite of cake.

"A friend of mine," I glanced up at him and giggled at his skeptical expression. "Jealous?"

"Hardly," I giggled again and he turned back to the view of Paris, his eyes smiling even though his lips refused to.

I leaned my elbows on the barrier and absorbed the warm sun and crisp air. I never want to leave here.

Erik set down the empty plate and I studied his profile. That strong nose, those eyebrows that were almost always furrowed as if he was constantly in deep thought. Knowing him he probably was constantly in deep thought. Behind that handsome face is a brain more genius than fifty brains combined. The sun reflected brightly off his white mask. I never want to leave here. But I knew that soon, too soon, I would have to.