The Man Behind the Mask: The Sequel to Gaston Leroux's the Phantom of the Opera

Potential Part

During Grace's short operatic fame, she and Erik grew somehow closer than she thought even lovers could. It startled her but filled her with joy. Each night after her performances he whisked her off behind a curtain or to a nearby secret where he'd passionately kiss her for a few moments then suddenly pull both of them backstage once more, so quickly they were left breathless yet not a person ever knew they were gone nor the risque tricks they got up to in those stolen moments. It was almost as if he could make time stop for just a couple seconds, and it thrilled her. Everything about it thrilled her, his touches, his hot lips, his seductive, deep eyes staring at her tattered soul. It was so attractive, so very appealing. His deadness, his anger, his lust, his tenderness, oh she could shiver at the thought of his tenderness. He could so easily trap her yet at the moment she was his favorite thing. He was dangerous. She half considered what would happen if she fell from his favor, if he dropped her from this high platform, this spotlight and she fell into his grave as he rose from it. For some reason that battle between them made her want him more.

At night, whenever he wasn't with her, rare as that was, she would sit and think about him and every thought was either one of fear or one of longing. There was no in between, all she needed was him.

And every night she sang, as far as his thoughts went, her voice, her sound, her silhouette against the rich velvet curtain; it made his blood boil and rage in his veins. He felt more alive with her than when he was teaching Christina. There was something so raw, so unadulteredly raw about her when she sang, something about how every note was filled with devotion and loathing. Emotions that he could not place. It was so beautiful and enthralling. The power and insanity, how she edged on hysteria and screams but they were oh so beautiful. Not to mention their alone times before he'd enter her room at night, before he'd check on her as she slept when she wasn't with him in his home underneath or when he could not spend the night with her. Seeing her at rest, peaceful, not knowing he was there was as incredible as when he kissed her and held her. The moonlight on her face, her eyes closed and her small smile whenever she'd turn over in her sleep. He could not place exactly why he loved those times. But he could not place a lot of things.

After tonight's performance, the final performance of the week of course, Saturday night, marked a change in their relationship. He stole her away a moment before the curtain had fully fallen, feeling a particularly strong urge to have her to himself for the evening.

He pulled her into his arms in one of his hidden rooms, and began kissing her as usual, but with deeper kisses she noticed, needier kisses, kisses that would leave her wanting things they could not yet do but might convince her otherwise but make her regret those decisions in the morning.

At the right time she broke away from his soft lips. "Will they not miss us backstage or worry about what's happened to me?"

He chuckled. "No my love, and if they do I do not care. I do not care if they call the Gendarmerie."

"Nora might worry."

"My dear please, I just want you for tonight. If you'd like I'll send up a note explaining how your strict manager does not let you have any fun and is such a grouch that he will not let you do anything other then rest your voice."

Grace smiled at him, knowing very well that Nora and George would not believe that. Well, he spoke to them as he spoke to everyone so they might believe the strict and grouchy part. But Grace always told them of his kindness and lenience of her. Honestly they were quite confused already so the note would just make things worse for when he did meet them as her lover. Not that she wanted that. He didn't need to. Their relationship wasn't normal and -