The Art of Manipulation || Phantom of the Opera & Loki the God of Mischief ||

12. Who Is It There Staring?

Just then a chuckle rumbled quietly throughout the theater, going unnoticed by most. Listening, I searched for Erik to see where he was. With my ears I searched in Box Five, I searched in the jungle above the stage, I searched his perch above the auditorium. I heard nothing; not his steady breathing, not his rhythmic heart. I plummeted my hearing to the cellars, winding down the stairways with my ears. I found him there, his body calm like he was merely sitting and working on either his music or a piece of artwork.

Furrowing my brows I looked around the stage again, wondering who the chuckle could have come from.

"Do we even have to do these rehearsals? It's not like he can hear us!"

At this the chuckle came again, this time louder. The red curtains trembled along with the meager frames of the actors onstage.

Pierre, the pianist, screamed and jumped away from the piano, the bench toppling over with a crash! A faint green mist traveled up to the keys of the piano, sinking between the cracks. The piano then played on its own, the invisible eyes reading the music splayed before him.

Instead of watching the possessed piano with mortified eyes like everyone else, I looked to the curtain, finding the manic green eyes watching from the darkness. Without my attention or my direction, the chorus now sang the intro to Don Juan with voices as flawless as frightened angels.

After rehearsals I scouted out those green eyes, finding them walking along a hallway backstage. Quickening my pace I caught up with Loki, "And what was that?"

He casted a sideways glance at me, his step still quick, "What was what?" He flashed me an amused smirk.

"You know what, Loki!"

"Come on, Alouette. Did you not like my playing? You are the one who taught me. If there are flaws then the fault lies in your teaching."

Rounding a corner I grabbed Loki by the lapels of his Midgardian jacket and dragged him into a secluded corner. Pinning him to the wall using my grip on his lapels and my body, I hissed, "What is wrong with you?"

A mischievous smile curled Loki's lips and he repeated my question, "What is wrong with me?" His cold hands ran down my sides and settled on my hips, somehow finding a gap in my clothing and rubbing his fingers into my flesh, "You can help with what is currently wrong with me." Grabbing me he pressed me into his hips, forcing me to feel what was "wrong" with him.

Grimacing, I pushed against his chest, "Why am I not surprised?" I turned away when he nuzzled into the crook of my neck. "Loki, enough." Still smirking he released me.

He remained leaning against the wall, his eyes raking down my disgruntled form, "What is wrong with me, dearest Alouette?"

Fixing my disheveled dress I said, "You've been acting strange since last night. What is the matter? Is it Erik? Is it because he came to see me?"

Sighing wistfully Loki dropped his arms to his side, his hands slapping against his thighs, "It's always Erik, Alouette. And you know me," his gaze slowly raised to mine, the intensity and darkness within it causing my skin to crawl, "I'm always jealous."

No kidding. That's how we got into this mess to begin with.

I tugged once more on my sleeve to cover the unrest I felt, "I thought we agreed not to pose as Erik anymore. The mortals fear him enough already."