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

22. Letter of Goodbye

Sneaking back to the Opéra Populaire I sat up on the roof with a heavy heart. I guess I could go see her later tonight. She might have been out in town. If I couldn't see her before she left I would go insane.

Leaving the roof I snaked through the different passageways to my lair. My mind was so distracted I nearly missed the right turn.

I held her drawing of our night together in my hands, running my fingers over her bare form wishing it wasn't just parchment I was feeling. I stood up to bring it into my bedroom where I kept the others she had drawn for me. I kept everything that reminded me of her in that room, almost making it a shrine to her.

As I walked up the ramp I kept my eyes on the sketch, studying every pencil stroke.

"I was wondering where this went."

My head shot up and I was ready to grab my lasso in case I needed to defend myself. But when I saw the form sitting on my disorderly bed with an undergarment in her hands I nearly crumpled at her feet, "Mélodie."

She leaned forward and cradled my head while I clung onto her, hoping beyond hope that she wasn't a mirage.

She pulled back to meet my gaze, "My Erik." She kissed my cheek and held my face, repeating my name like her life depended on it. She removed my mask and caressed the deformed part of my face. Whispering she said, "I need another day with you. I won't survive if I can't have atleast one more day with you."

Sometime later - I'm not sure how long later - but a while later she stood at the dresser in nothing but a sheet to cover herself. I smiled at the renewed markings I had left on her ivory skin. I studied her from the messier bed in silence. She looked as beautiful as ever but something was different. The most obvious difference was her weight, she looked thinner. Not too thin, but thin. Like she hadn't been eating. There is another thing but I can't quite point it out. There is something in her eyes. Something hidden.

She held in her hands a drawing I had made of her, my Mélodie. It is one of many.

Leaning on my elbows I continued to watch her. She stood there examining it for a while, her honey eyes moving around the page. I smirked, unable to mask the playful arrogance in my voice, "I know I'm not as good an artist as you."

Looking up from my drawing she smiled at me, amusement dancing in her eyes, "Nonsense." Still holding the drawing she crawled back onto the bed and straddled me, "Wipe that arrogant look off of your face before I do it myself." She leaned down to kiss me, my drawing set beside me on the pillow.

When she pulled back I said against her mouth, "It's going to take a lot more than a kiss to wipe this arrogant look off my face."

Her hands went down my chest, her nails lightly scraping me, making me shudder, "What are you suggesting, Phantom?"

I leaned up to kiss her again but she moved away to tease me. Her smirk taunted me and I sat up to hold her to my lap, "I guess I'll have to show you what I am suggesting."

* * *

"Is the light better this way?"

"Hold still!"

"What if I do this?"

"Mélodie!"

Mélodie giggled at me before laying there the way I had originally told her, "I was just trying to help."

I tried not to smile but it seeped through. I looked at her over the drawing pad, hoping she wouldn't see my amusement, "How am I supposed to draw you if you won't stay still?"

She laid on her back across the bed with her arms above her head, the sheets tangled in between her legs and barely covering her chest. Her hair fanned around her head and hung over the edge of the bed by her hands. She had her head turned sideways towards me, her smile bright like the sun, "If you're such an excellent artist you would have no trouble drawing me, no matter what I did."